Anthea looks at Sara to see whether she can be moved.
“Possibly.” Sara concedes. “
But her smacking my bottom is not on the cards.”
Silence prevails for a good few seconds,
and I feel Sara’s abject refusal is having more influence on Anthea than I would like.
“Oh dear.” I say.
“Looks like some long nights in and lots of weekend detentions, doesn’t it girls?”
Sara sighs, and makes as though she is about to get up and leave,
but Anthea stays put.
“Hold on, Sara.” Anthea takes time for another little think before she looks directly at me.
“Make it six whacks, not twelve, and it’s to be done by a teacher in view of our seniority.
Not the headmaster and not Miss Stone. Agreed?”