Tales from the Study 1: St. FIGS

St Francis Independent Grammar School St FIGS is a traditional school – traditional curriculum; traditional sports; traditional uniform and traditional discipline. Meet John Allison, eighteen years old and a new boy at school, as he discovers just what that means. The thwack of the cane against stretched buttocks echoes through the passageways. No naughty sixth-former … Continue reading Tales from the Study 1: St. FIGS

Sgt Trueform takes charge

“Freeman. Hardy. Willis. Come here lads. Now. All three of you!” Sgt Trueform barked as he strode through the playground. Three hapless sixth-formers trailed in his wake. The sergeant was a typhoon. He never stopped. He had energy to burn. He may have been discharged from the Army at the end of the war but … Continue reading Sgt Trueform takes charge

St Francis Grammar School – the compilation

As readers know one of my favourite subjects for stories is the old-fashioned English school. Masters prowl the passageways dressed in academic gowns and caps. They swipe whippy curve-handled rattan canes across stretched backsides. Sometimes the unfortunate victims have their trousers – or Glory Be! – their underpants at their ankles. My heart is racing … Continue reading St Francis Grammar School – the compilation

All is well in the world

Harry Clifton was in no hurry. He ambled across the quadrangle. It was a fine day in early summer. The sun shone. The sky was blue. It was all in all a beautiful day. Except is wasn’t a fine day. Not for Harry Clifton, the sixth-form pupil at St. Francis Independent Grammar School; the soon-to-be … Continue reading All is well in the world

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

St Francis Independent Grammar School: Snowballs

Dr Henderson-Smith the headmaster was at his most self-important. Five hundred schoolboys sat in rapt attention. The headmaster, dressed in a rather old-fashioned academic gown, berated his boys. He was a commanding figure, tall, grim, stiff as a ram-rod. His white moustache bristled and his knitted white brows frowned. The headmaster had centre stage and … Continue reading St Francis Independent Grammar School: Snowballs

The Run

A St Francis Independent Grammar School story. Click here for the full series. Brother Sebastian grew impatient. It was cold and starting to rain. Soon it would be dark. Where were those two boys? The others had returned ages ago. Brother Sebastian paced around the carpark. He paused and looked at his watch. He would … Continue reading The Run

Murph in the Headmaster’s Study

A St Francis Independent Grammar School story. Click here for the full series.   Murph was bent over the desk, awaiting his fate. He had been told to grip the far edge of the desk, so he was stretched across it. His school blazer, shirt and white vest had ridden up his back. His grey … Continue reading Murph in the Headmaster’s Study

First Day At School

A St Francis Independent Grammar School story. Click here for the full series. John Allison walked through the gates of St Francis Independent Grammar School for the first time as a pupil. All around him boys were hurrying along, anxious not to be late. “Hurry along you tykes,” a senior boy, obviously a prefect, called … Continue reading First Day At School

The Padded Armchair

A St Francis Independent Grammar School story. Click here for the full series. Jack Wilks stood about two feet from the padded armchair. At any moment he would be bent across its back, face in the soft cushion with his bottom high for the schoolmaster to whack it with a heavy slipper. He deserved it, … Continue reading The Padded Armchair