My brain whirred: four o’clock finish school plus forty-five minutes detention plus collect coat, satchel, have a pee plus three miles cycle ride home—Sarah should be here any moment! And right on cue, I heard her wheel her bike round to the shed. Sarah came apprehensively through the back door. She was wearing a green, belted gabardine raincoat, and green beret. Her hair was in a pigtail halfway down her back. Her eyes focused on me. “What’s he doing here?” she demanded, switching swiftly from apprehension to belligerence. Sarah’s mother ignored the question. “Take your mackintosh off.” “But Mum…” “Now!” Pouting sulkily, Sarah began to unbuckle the belt. “And you can take that sullen look off your face or I’ll wipe it off for you.” Sarah managed to look marginally less surly as she unbuttoned her coat and took it off. Under it, she wore her winter uniform of green blazer, grey blouse, green and yellow striped tie, grey skirt, grey socks and black shoes. “I’ll go and hang my coat up in the hall,” she volunteered, beginning to move in that direction. “No. Leave it on that chair. And take off your blazer.” “But Mum…” “Do it!” “Send Archie home, please” wheedled Sarah, adopting more conciliatory tactics. “He doesn’t have to be here.” Sarah’s mollifying manner did her no good either as her mother simply ignored it. Sarah put her blazer with her raincoat. “Now your skirt,” Mrs Hibbard said implacably. “No Mummy!” shouted Sarah and she actually stamped her foot. “Tell that horrible boy to go home!” Sarah’s mother stayed surprisingly calm. “There is only one horrible child in this house, Sarah, and that is the one who puts smaller girls’ heads down toilets.” “It was just a joke. Anyway, she’s a horrible little sneak.” “Skirt off, Sarah.” “Ooh!” moaned Sarah, but she unbuttoned her skirt, stepped out of it and put it with her raincoat and blazer on the chair. She was now dressed in shoes, socks, her bottle-green school knickers, blouse, tie and, rather incongruously, her green beret. “And you had better take those shoes off as well; I don’t want you kicking me like you did last week.” Last week! For the first time there was confirmation of the spankings that I felt sure went on when I was not around. “It’s not fair,” muttered Sarah, bending to untie her laces. Sarah took off her shoes and put them under the chair with her other clothes. Mrs Hibbard sighed. “Do take off that beret, Sarah. You shouldn’t be wearing it inside and in your present state of undress it makes you look very silly.” “Oooh!” whined Sarah, and snatched the hat from her head and put it with the rest. “Good,” said Sarah’s mother, calmly. Now I am going to give you a very sound spanking.” “Oh please, Mummy! I won’t bully anyone ever again. We didn’t really hurt her and it was all Diane’s idea anyway.” “Now who’s the sneak, Sarah? Not that Diane’s part in this affair is no significance to me. I am sure her mother will deal with her appropriately.” “No she won’t,” Sarah said excitedly. “Her mum’s expecting a baby really, really soon—it’ll be born any minute, Diane says—and so her mum can’t spank her properly because of the bump and stuff. And her Dad’s at sea ’cause he’s in the Navy. So it’s not fair for me to be spanked, is it? Not if Diane is going to get off with it.” “Do stop twittering on, child,” Sarah’s mother said wearily. “I’ve already told you that Diane is not any concern of mine, although I’d be happy to lend her mother a hand if she asks me! However, you are my responsibility and I am not going to let bullying go unpunished. Come over here and get across my lap.” “Oooh, Nooo!” wailed Sarah, and burst into tears. This surprised me because Sarah was generally rather brave, but I think that she had begun to hope for a last minute reprieve and when her hopes were dashed, the thought of what was bound to be a severe spanking overwhelmed her. Whatever the reason for the child’s distress, her mother was not impressed. “Well I suppose that just goes to prove the old adage that bullies are always cowards,” she said bleakly. “You are worse than Alison.” “No, I’m not!” Sarah blazed back through her tears, stung by this insult to recover some of her usual aggression. “We’ll see. Over my lap.” With a final—for the moment—glare at me, Sarah moved across the kitchen and bent over her mother’s lap. “And be a bit quicker next time,” snapped Sarah’s mother, giving her left thigh a sharp slap. Then moved and pushed so that Sarah’s position was so adjusted that her head slipped more towards the floor at one end and her feet left the lino at the other. “Good,” commented Sarah’s mother in satisfaction, Sarah’s mother wasted no more time in getting down to giving her daughter’s bottom a sound spanking. Sarah’s grey-socked legs kicked the empty air as best they could, “Ow! Wow! Ouch!” squealed Sarah and her pigtail brushed the floor as her head shook this way and that. “Mummy…Ouch… please… Ow… stop it… Youch … no more… Aieow… PLEASE!” As usual, Sarah’s pleading did her no good at all. Her mother just kept on spanking very briskly, reddening her naughty daughter’s bottom with every hearty smack. Half a minute later, after a particularly energetic kick caused by a dazzlingly delivered slap, The spanking went on a long while after that with Sarah kicking and crying strenuously, but her mother remaining adamantine in her determination to give her child a comprehensive tanning, which task she seemed to me to complete several times over—and presumably even more so for Sarah whose bottom was on the receiving end of all that attention. At last, though Mrs Hibbard appeared to consider the task done to her satisfaction and released poor Sarah who rolled off her mother’s and gently rubbed her bottom , jigging and boohooing with feeling. “Right, straight up to your room, girl, and stay there. I’ll bring up your homework and something to eat later.” Still crying loudly, Sarah ran from the room, probably glad to be away from my prying eyes and her mother’s punishing hand. As for me, I saw that I should have been home for my own tea five minutes or more earlier. I quickly explained to Mrs Hibbard who said,” “Yes, you be off now, Archie, but see if you can come back after you’ve done your homework. I may have some more bug dusting to do!” And she gave me a broad wink.