After lunch, Mother went to my former school to collect my course work. On her return she had me organise everything into folders on her book shelf, along side the books I brought from my room. She then made a spreadsheet on her computer so she could keep track of my progress. “I can’t believe you’ve got so far behind.” She fumed as she tallied my expected progress with my actual achievements to date. “I think you’ll have to work through the Christmas and Easter holidays to get back on track!”
“But Mother.”
“No buts! You’ve brought this on yourself and I’m the one trying to pick up the pieces.”
I spent the next few days completing my current homework assignments. In the mean time, Mother interviewed several potential tutors (not in my presence, thankfully), before she decided on a lady called Mrs Barnes. She was in her 50’s I guess. Mother introduced me to her on Friday afternoon.
“Pleased to meet you Peter.” She said with an outstretched hand.
“Hello Miss.” I said, shaking her hand.
“I understand you’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do?” She said.
I nodded, “Yes Miss.”
“And your Mother tells me the reason you’re wearing a dress is to stop you from running off. Is that correct?”
“Yes Miss.” I replied shyly.
“And has it worked?”
“Yes Miss.”
“Very good.” She replied. “Well then, I’ll see you first thing on Monday morning. You may wait in the hallway whilst your Mother and I discuss your curriculum.”
Mother glanced at me, then towards the door. “Thank you Miss.” I said as I went to wait in the hallway.
I must have waited for a good hour before Mother and my new tutor exited the study. All the time I obediently stood by the study door, waiting to be told otherwise.
“He’s ever so compliant.” Commented Mrs Barnes.
“He’s been as good as gold all week.” Said Mother. “I guess the uniform is working better than I ever expected.” Mrs Barnes agreed with a simple nod. “Taking away his music and grounding him didn’t seem to do any good, so the next step is always going to be a bit more drastic.” Again, Mrs Barnes agreed with a nod. “Although if he genuinely tries hard, he can have some liberties back, as an incentive.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Said Mrs Barnes. “Reward good behaviour and punish bad behaviour. It’s a concept which eludes many parents these days.”
I stood silently as they said their goodbye’s. “She seems nice doesn’t she?” Asked Mother once Mrs Barnes had left. I nodded. “And you were very polite, addressing her as Miss.”
“Thank you.” I said quietly, still stood by the study door.
“Well, it’s 4.30. I guess we can call it a day.” Mother said, checking her watch. “If you’d like you can change out of your uniform.”
My face lit up. At last. The first time since Sunday morning I’m allowed to wear my own clothes for a bit. I shifted slightly, ready to run upstairs, but hesitated, knowing Mother hadn’t actually said I could change at this very moment. I looked at her for approval.
I restocked your wardrobe so there’s plenty for you to choose from.
“In my room or Cheryl’s?” I asked, ignorantly.
“Cheryl’s room is your room now Peter.” Mother replied, in a matter of fact tone. “In fact, there’s a surprise in there for you too.” She added with a smile.
“Really?” I said as I headed for my room. I opened the door to see my hi-fi sitting on the bookshelf, along with all my cd’s. “Thanks Mother.” I shouted with joy. “Excellent!” I said to myself, opening the wardrobe to get a pair of jeans to wear. My heart sank. None of my clothes could be seen, only skirts and dresses. I leant over the bannister to ask Mother if I was missing something. “Mother…?”
“Yes.” She replied, from her study.
“Are there any pants I can wear?”
“I can’t hear you. Come and speak to me properly.”
I went down stairs and into the study where Mother sat at her desk. “Are there any pants I can wear? Please?” I asked.
“No dear.” She replied, not looking up from whatever she was doing.
“But I thought you said if I was good I could wear my own clothes for the weekend?”
“No.” She looked up. “I said if you were good you wouldn’t have to wear your school uniform over the weekend.” She explained clearly. “You can wear what you choose as most of Cheryl’s old clothes should fit you. If you can’t find anything I’ll find something for you.”
“Oh God!” I thought as I made my way back to my room to try to find something else to wear.