Temporal Exploring 101 - First Transit

I.23 Group dynamics

That day, we had French in second period. Eunice Ndemba and Erin Morgan came in five minutes late when the lesson had already started. As I later learned this was not the first time that this had happened.

"Ndemba and Morgan." Our teacher Ms Mallet regarded them with a frown. "I have told you repeatedly that I will not tolerate tardiness in my class."

Both girls apologized profusely, but that did not seem to appease the teacher.

"Very well, for now. You can take your seats," she told them.

At the end of the period, when everybody was getting ready to leave, Ms Mallet announced: "Ndemba, Morgan: the two of you will stay in the classroom. We need to talk."

"Uh oh," Natty commented.

My roommate and I as well as the rest of my classmates went to the school's cafeteria. The girls positioned three tables and the respective chairs in such away that we could all sit together.  They had self-service in the cafeteria, so everybody got up and purchased their favorite beverages. Natty and I got ourselves cups of black coffee. The Turner twins shared one tall glass filled with a special kind of lemonade. Nancy just took a glass of water and Mallory Carmichael got a hot chocolate as did Helen Langden and Jessica Burns. The four rich girls  -- Barnett, Bradford, Lane and Mellon -- chose English tea.

We were all sitting together, taking sips from our beverages and chatting amiably when Eunice Ndemba and Erin Morgan finally joined us about ten minutes later, both girls looking none too happy. We watched as the African girl carefully lowered her butt onto the seat of a chair and winced. The Welsh girl followed her friend's lead and sat down beside her.

"Did you guys get a licking?" Debbie Turner asked.

Ndemba nodded. "Bloody Mallet," she muttered.

"Three strokes of the cane for each of us," Erin elaborated.

"That woman has got it in for me." Eunice made a face. "You may be a royal princess of the blood in your own country, Ndemba," she intoned, in a precise imitation of our French teacher's voice. "But this is England, and here you are subject to school discipline just like any other student. Is that understood?"

Everybody was grinning.

"She has got the weirdest ideas about my home country too," the black girl continued. "She says she is well aware of the fact that in my own country I could have her, quote, thrown into jail or worse, unquote, for disciplining me. But you know, fortunately for her, this is England."

"Could you actually do that?" Jessica Burns asked, intrigued. "I mean, have her imprisoned and all."

"I wish." Ndemba laughed. "I've got zero influence and even less power, back home."

"Aw, that's too bad." Jen Turner grinned. "Just imagine it. We could go there on our next school excursion and Ndemba could have old Mallet thrown in jail. Or worse.  Just for a day or two. Wouldn't that be something?"

"Well, as I said, this is not likely to happen," the black girl told her.

"Myself, I would love to go to Paris, just once." Nancy sounded wistful.

"The Lower Sixth always gets to visit Paris, for two weeks," Mallory Carmichael said. "You will just have to wait until then, Kerrington." She yawned. "Instead, we are taking a trip to London, on Friday. It's not like we didn't go there only six months ago."

"Why don't you go and talk to Headmistress Stuart about that, Carmichael. Use your famous charm to wrap her around your finger." There was a touch of malice in Eleanor Bradford's voice. "Why don't you convince her to change the destination of our trip to Brighton or something."