William gulped. “Yes Miss.”
“Now, as you’ve probably noticed, this is a girl’s school and whilst you’re here, you’ll be treated as such.”
William gulped again.
“We do the utmost to help our boys fit in, so whilst you’re here, you’ll answer to the name Wendy.”
“What?!”
“Wendy.” the headmistress repeated. “It’s vaguely similar to your real name so you can remember it, but a little more suitable for a pupil in a girl’s school.”
William gulped. He nervously thumbed the strap of the bag that hangs from his shoulder. Inside is a spare pair of tights, a clean pair of knickers and a handkerchief. The prefects carry similar bags with their names neatly written behind a transparent plastic panel. The headmistress slides a rectangular slip of paper across her desk and prompts William to take it. He steps forward and picks it up. ‘Wendy Dowson: 3C’ is written in ink. 3C is his class, the name is also his. He reluctantly slips it into the slot on his little shoulder bag before letting it hang dankly on his hip.
“Janice.” the headmistress says to one of the prefects.
“Yes miss?”
“Thank you for your time. You may return to class.”
“Yes miss. Thank you miss.” Janice says before dropping a quick curtsey and leaving.
“Amanda.” the headmistress says to the remaining prefect.
“Yes miss?” she enthusiastically replied.
“Will you escort Wendy to class, and chaperone her for the remainder of the day.” the headmistress asked. William grimaced as he was not only referred to as ‘Wendy’, but also as ‘her’. Amanda wasn’t quite so enthusiastic the second time she said ‘yes miss’. “You may go.” the headmistress said.
“Thank you miss.” Amanda said before dropping a quick curtsey. William gulped. Amanda glared at him. The headmistress stared at him.
William gulped again before muttering “Yes miss.” and carefully and cautiously curtseying. At the moment, his humiliation was so great that he swore to himself that there’s no way he’s coming back here tomorrow. He’ll run as far as London if he has to.
He follows Amanda awkwardly along the corridor. Their two pairs of heels clack a syncopated rhythm on the hardwood floor. “This place is worse than I thought.” he grumbled.
“It’s actually a very good school. The best in town.” Amanda replied.
“Maybe if you’re a girl.” he groaned.
“So far as everyone’s concerned, you are a girl… Wendy.” she replied.
“I’m not… and my name’s William!” he retorted, adding ‘stupid cow’ under his breath.
Amanda drew him to a halt and looked him in the eye. “Look. Wendy.” she said. “I don’t want to chaperone you all day when I should be attending my own classes, but since I am, I’m the one who’s keeping count of your misdemeanours… so don’t piss me off, Wendy. I alone could keep you here for twice as long as you should be.”
William gulped and hung his head. “Sorry.” he muttered.
“Since you’re new I’ll let you off… but don’t expect to get off scot free if you call anyone else a stupid cow, especially a prefect.” Amanda advised. She continued walking and William sheepishly followed. Amanda drew him to a halt outside a classroom and knocked on the door. “Enter!” a voice said.
Amanda and William entered the class. “This is the new boy sir; Wendy Dowson.” Amanda said as William hesitantly glanced at the faces that glared at him.
“About time Wendy.” the teacher said. “Take a seat.”
He sat at a vacant double desk alongside Amanda, but struggled to concentrate on what was being said. All William can do is imagine just how ridiculous he must look, especially with his hair in a pair of cute girlie bunches. The teacher prattled on about Edwardian Britain, throwing out occasional questions to his class. Half a dozen hands would go up and the teacher would select one to reply. She (or he, it’s hard to tell) would stand before offering their answer, and before seating themselves, they’d always curtsey first. Some wore their hair in bunches, much like his own. Others had plaits or a high pony tail. A few had neither, but all wore either white or burgundy ribbons in their hair. “Who can name a British Prime minister from the Edwardian era?” the teacher asked. “You, Charlotte.” he said after a number of hands went up.
Charlotte stood up as the remaining hands went down. “David Lloyd-George sir.” she said, but it was clear to William that Charlotte is really a boy, probably called Charles.
“Wrong!” the teacher bellowed. Charlotte curtseyed awkwardly and sat. “Any one else?” he asked. No one put their hand up. “What about our new boy?” he said, turning his gaze toward William. “Any idea Wendy?”
“No sir.” William meekly replied.
“Stand when you speak!”
William hesitated, then stood. “No sir.” he repeated.
“Can you name a political party that held office during the Edwardian era?”
“Er…” William gulped and guessed. “Conservative… sir.”
“Very good.” the teacher replied. William began to sit but stopped himself, offering a quick yet clumsy curtsey first. “The conservative party held office until 1905…” the teacher continued.
