The selfie

There! Take a look at that. Are you satisfied? It’s all your fault. I told you I didn’t want to skip Uni. You made me do it. I said if he found out, my Dad would tan my hide. You just laughed. You thought I was making a joke. Well,  just take a close look. … Continue reading The selfie

Adventure at Camp Cottage

Julian thought Uncle Dick was a queer fellow. He was the most extraordinary looking man, very tall and very dark and with a rather fierce frown on his wide forehead. Julian couldn’t help shivering the very first time he saw him and it wasn’t even a cold day. “Hello Uncle,” he said in his usual … Continue reading Adventure at Camp Cottage

Just an ordinary day

“Right Brooking,” the headmaster flexed his whippy rattan cane then pointed to a spot in the centre of his study, “Bend over. You two,” he gestured to my pal Christianson and myself, “Stand there, by the wall.” He turned back to Brooking, “Right-over lad! Touch those toes.” Brooking stretched his finger further down his shins. … Continue reading Just an ordinary day

Noisy neighbour

I’m not particularly proud of what I did, but I’m not ashamed either. I never planned it. It just happened on the spur of the moment. If I’d thought about it beforehand I know I’d never have done it. I’m far too timid a man. I could try to blame the drink, but I’ll make … Continue reading Noisy neighbour

Uncle Graham’s belt

Uncle Graham stood feet firmly planted eighteen inches apart, his back erect, the muscles in his forearms rippling. I stood, my eyes popping, as slowly and with great deliberation he unbuckled his thick, wide leather belt. He glowered as he took hold of the buckle and tugged the belt so that it slipped majestically through … Continue reading Uncle Graham’s belt

The French student

Back in the day I was a great defender of the English way of life. This was long before we got mixed up in the European Union and lost our national identity. Every summer for years I took into my home students from France who were in town to learn English. Also, the college that … Continue reading The French student

The boom-box boy

We had a lovely summer’s day last week and you don’t get many of those in Brocklehurst so I decided to make the most of it and lounge out in the garden, fortified by some gin-and-tonic and an ice bucket. Imagine my annoyance when after about five minutes of catching the rays, I was assaulted … Continue reading The boom-box boy

A school-leaving present

The beautiful grounds of St Francis Independent Grammar School basked in the cloudless July morning, but it was lost on Mr Price, the deputy headmaster. The dour Welshman, pushing sixty, tall and bony, had the usual grim expression on his gaunt face. It was now halfway through the last week of summer term and in … Continue reading A school-leaving present

A spanking before bedtime

Go to your room, get changed into you pyjamas and meet me in the lounge. You’re getting a spanking before bedtime. ……. Come in, stand there. Don’t slouch. Look at me when I’m talking to you. When I took you out of that half-way house for young offenders and gave you a room in my … Continue reading A spanking before bedtime

Waiting …

The Headmaster’s a sadistic old so-and-so. He makes you wait, standing, nose inches from the wall. He does it every time. Waiting. What for? I know it’ll be the cane. I’ve been here before. Many times. It’ll be on the bare for sure, this time. I can’t see him, but I can sense that he’s … Continue reading Waiting …