His voice cut the air, “look only at the mantle-shelf, and do not release your grip, or I shall add another stroke for each time you do so and we do...’t want that do we?” through a vail of tears she grunted “no sir!” but prayed that she could be strong enough to stay the course. She focused on the clock, its little balls swinging to and fro, in its glass dome, regular and steady, its hands reading a quarter to five as the horrible secretary lifted her skirt folding it onto her back, cool air. Middleton’s voice screeched across the room, demanding an explanation as to what was going on. I ripped the scarf over my head as she grabbed me. She pulled me up and frog-marched me out of the girls’ room, through the corridor and into her own room. She shoved me in and slammed the door, heading back to the girls. I stood stock-still, in a state of absolute shock as I heard her scream at the girls, pretty shortly there was crying. There was a loud bang as she slammed their door and I. More

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