SSC category: 'First/Last Line.' (also School and Edge)

Whispers
by Tasha


 Mr Wilson was a narrow-eyed, shifty man and Miss Swan didn't like him
at all. He never looked her in the eye and he had a strange habit of
ceaselessly rubbing the thumb and middle finger of his right hand
together. It made a distracting, whispery sound and Miss Swan found
herself staring pointedly at his hand in the hope that he would stop.
 'So you see,' he said. 'The school governors felt that the discipline
in your little school was somewhat lax.'
 Miss Swan smiled thinly. 'I am quite proud of my "little" school, Mr
Wilson,' she said. 'And I expect the governors only have the best
intentions. However-'
 'It's not my decision,' Mr Wilson said, momentarily stopping the
rubbing to raise his hands defensively. 'The governors simply felt that
- well, your tender years... I'm sure you understand.' He smiled,
showing uneven, yellow teeth.
 Miss Swan bristled. 'I realise I am younger than your average old hag
headmistress, but I consider that an asset. My girls can relate to me
better than they can to some battleaxe ten times their age.'
 She stopped herself, taking a deep breath. Mustn't let him get to me,
she thought. But it was hard. That whispering noise was really getting
under her skin. He'll wear away his fingertips, she thought, bewildered.
 'Yes, and I think that's exactly why the governors are insisting on
changing the discipline policy here. You relate to your pupils like
equals. You're not an authority figure. Girls need discipline, Miss
Swan.' He made eye contact for a moment and she looked away, unnerved.
'As I'm sure you're aware.'
 'Fine,' she said frostily. 'We'll dust off the Victorian torture
devices. Will that satisfy you, Mr Wilson?'
 'You needn't look to satisfy ME, Miss Swan,' he said in a mockery of
pleasantness. 'Only the governors. No doubt you're too young to have
tasted the cane in your own school career, but I can assure you of its
effectiveness.' The whispering intensified as he spoke.
 'Barbaric,' she muttered. 'Beating defenceless little girls - Mr
Wilson, WILL you stop that, please?'
 He looked surprised and glanced at his hand. He shrugged and put his
hand in his pocket, where she could still hear his fingers whispering.
'It's not barbaric, Miss Swan,' he told her in a patronising tone. 'As
you will see.'
 'Very well. I'll dig the ancient punishment book out of mothballs and
record every stroke. Then you'll know - sorry, the GOVERNORS will know -
that my girls aren't being coddled.'
 'Oh, I'm afraid a punishment book won't be enough,' he said.
 'I don't understand.'
 'That's why they sent me, you see.' His fingers whispered madly, as
though tormented by an unbearable itch.
 Miss Swan's eyes widened with horrific understanding. 'Mr Wilson, you
are not laying a finger on my girls!'
 He met her eyes again and smiled his goatish smile. 'I have no
intention of touching them.' he said. 'I like to watch.'


(c) 2004 SSC by Tasha