bad cold and began to snore, but I wasn’t the one who
threw slippers at her because I slept right through it.
One week, Matron rather pointedly pinned up a plan
on the door of the dorm. It was a map of St Mary’s showing the
nearest fire exits.
“Well, that’s easy,” said Snort. “If there’s a fire,
we just dash down the stairs, through the locker room and out of
the back door.”
“Correct,” said Matron, then added darkly, “but what
if that route was blocked?”
We had a think about that.
“And mind you gels read the rules at the bottom of
the sheet.”
Matron left, and Snort read the rules aloud. We
listened carefully.
Do not take any possessions with you, even items of
value or teddies.
Put on slippers or shoes and a pair of linings.
Vacate the dorm in a single orderly line.
The Dorm Captain should be the last to leave, having
made sure everyone is out.
Unsurprisingly, that very night, a fire drill took
place.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnngggg…
“Dusty! Wake up! It’s a fire drill!”
“Wh…”
Snort had been voted Dorm Captain, probably much to
Matron and Mrs Driver’s dismay, as she was the most unruly girl in
the dorm.
“Quick,” shouted Snort. “Put your knickers on! And
your slippers! Hurry up! Everybody out!”
I was heading the line, but to my surprise, the
flight of stairs leading down to our nearest exit was blocked.
Shirley, my GO, was standing there holding up a large piece of
paper saying FLAMES.
“Oh, Shirley!” I said, pretending to swoon, the
behaviour expected when one met one’s GO.
“Not now!” she hissed. “Quick, you’ll have to go up
the next flight of stairs, along the corridor past Mrs Driver’s
room and down the stairs on the far side.”
I turned and led the line up the stairs. However,
outside Mrs Driver’s room was another prefect holding up a sign
saying FLAMES. I had no choice but to turn right and led the line
into the back corridor that housed the isolation room and was
haunted by Emily the scullery maid. Our slippers clumped along the
bare floorboards until we reached the big window that opened onto
the fire escape. Out we climbed, one by one, and clattered down the
very fire escape where Emily was said to have met her tragic
death.
“Well done, gels,” said Matron when we reached the
bottom. “And I’m very pleased to see you all remembered to put on
your linings.”
Now I understood why we had to put on our underwear.
If it had been a real fire, the firemen would have gained more than
an eyeful as we girls descended that fire escape.
Within ten minutes, we were back in the dorm, in bed
and dozing off to sleep again.
However, there was one particular night when every
girl and member of staff was wide awake in the middle of the night,
and it had nothing at all to do with fire drills.
11 Bad Boys
Crispy Crunchy Crackly Crack
A s we climbed into our beds one moonlit
night, we had no idea of the spectacle we were about to
witness.
“Goodnight, gels,” said Matron at the doorway of the
dorm as she switched off the light as usual. “No more talking
now.”
“Goodnight, Matron,” we chorused.
We drifted off to sleep as owls screeched to each
other in the woods. By midnight, all the girls and staff would have
been asleep. It was a warm, still, summer night, with just the
occasional cloud sliding across the moon, throwing the world into
momentary darkness. As the hand of the clock clicked round into the
small hours, St Mary’s lay silent and peaceful. Until…
Vroooooom! Vroooooom!
Night sounds always seem louder, but this noise was
deafening, and growing louder by the second. Even we young girls
couldn’t sleep through that. We sat up, wide awake.
“What on earth?”
Vroooooom! Vroooooom!
Snort sprang out of bed and ran to the window,
tugging the curtain aside.
Vroooooom! Vroooooom!
“Oh golly! Quick, come and SEE!”
We leapt out of bed and pressed our faces against
the glass, then gaped. Outside, on the drive, six or
threw slippers at her because I slept right through it.
One week, Matron rather pointedly pinned up a plan
on the door of the dorm. It was a map of St Mary’s showing the
nearest fire exits.
“Well, that’s easy,” said Snort. “If there’s a fire,
we just dash down the stairs, through the locker room and out of
the back door.”
“Correct,” said Matron, then added darkly, “but what
if that route was blocked?”
We had a think about that.
“And mind you gels read the rules at the bottom of
the sheet.”
Matron left, and Snort read the rules aloud. We
listened carefully.
Do not take any possessions with you, even items of
value or teddies.
Put on slippers or shoes and a pair of linings.
Vacate the dorm in a single orderly line.
The Dorm Captain should be the last to leave, having
made sure everyone is out.
Unsurprisingly, that very night, a fire drill took
place.
Rrrrrrrrrrrrrinnnngggg…
“Dusty! Wake up! It’s a fire drill!”
“Wh…”
Snort had been voted Dorm Captain, probably much to
Matron and Mrs Driver’s dismay, as she was the most unruly girl in
the dorm.
“Quick,” shouted Snort. “Put your knickers on! And
your slippers! Hurry up! Everybody out!”
I was heading the line, but to my surprise, the
flight of stairs leading down to our nearest exit was blocked.
Shirley, my GO, was standing there holding up a large piece of
paper saying FLAMES.
“Oh, Shirley!” I said, pretending to swoon, the
behaviour expected when one met one’s GO.
“Not now!” she hissed. “Quick, you’ll have to go up
the next flight of stairs, along the corridor past Mrs Driver’s
room and down the stairs on the far side.”
I turned and led the line up the stairs. However,
outside Mrs Driver’s room was another prefect holding up a sign
saying FLAMES. I had no choice but to turn right and led the line
into the back corridor that housed the isolation room and was
haunted by Emily the scullery maid. Our slippers clumped along the
bare floorboards until we reached the big window that opened onto
the fire escape. Out we climbed, one by one, and clattered down the
very fire escape where Emily was said to have met her tragic
death.
“Well done, gels,” said Matron when we reached the
bottom. “And I’m very pleased to see you all remembered to put on
your linings.”
Now I understood why we had to put on our underwear.
If it had been a real fire, the firemen would have gained more than
an eyeful as we girls descended that fire escape.
Within ten minutes, we were back in the dorm, in bed
and dozing off to sleep again.
However, there was one particular night when every
girl and member of staff was wide awake in the middle of the night,
and it had nothing at all to do with fire drills.
11 Bad Boys
Crispy Crunchy Crackly Crack
A s we climbed into our beds one moonlit
night, we had no idea of the spectacle we were about to
witness.
“Goodnight, gels,” said Matron at the doorway of the
dorm as she switched off the light as usual. “No more talking
now.”
“Goodnight, Matron,” we chorused.
We drifted off to sleep as owls screeched to each
other in the woods. By midnight, all the girls and staff would have
been asleep. It was a warm, still, summer night, with just the
occasional cloud sliding across the moon, throwing the world into
momentary darkness. As the hand of the clock clicked round into the
small hours, St Mary’s lay silent and peaceful. Until…
Vroooooom! Vroooooom!
Night sounds always seem louder, but this noise was
deafening, and growing louder by the second. Even we young girls
couldn’t sleep through that. We sat up, wide awake.
“What on earth?”
Vroooooom! Vroooooom!
Snort sprang out of bed and ran to the window,
tugging the curtain aside.
Vroooooom! Vroooooom!
“Oh golly! Quick, come and SEE!”
We leapt out of bed and pressed our faces against
the glass, then gaped. Outside, on the drive, six or
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