My hands were placed palms down in my lap, the tip of my index finger nervously fingering a small hole in my black tights just below the hem of my skirt. “Charlotte, you are now seventeen years old, when will we start to see some responsible, lady like behaviour from you?” Mr Francis’ tone was steady and measured. I lifted my eyes a little and shrugged helplessly. “I – I don’t know, Sir.” “You don’t know?” he mocked before sighing and opening my permanent record which sat centrally on his large desk. “The information I have been given today states that this morning, during first period, you swore and punched a fellow classmate. Is this true, Charlotte?” There was no putting it off any longer, I cautiously adjusted my gaze and looked at him. It was like starring into the sun. I nodded slowly, my finger widening the small hole in my tights. “Yes Sir, I – I hit Chloe Knight and I … I swore at her … but, it just came out … I – I didn’t mean it … I am sorry.” I’d promised myself I wasn’t. Thank heavens they did not.’ He handed her the paper, and enjoyed the view as her face broke into the salacious grin she always sported when a roll in his arms was in the near future. ‘Jonathan! A private compartment?!’ ‘I paid for the upgrade in cash, back in Westfordshire,’ Jonathan explained. ‘I knew all too well both our families would have us sleeping in separate rooms, after all, and why should we have to wait all week when there would be nothing else to do on this leg of the trip?’ Elizabeth looked longingly at her watch. ‘We’ve all too much time to enjoy our tea first, haven’t we?’ ‘Think of it as anticipation,’ said Jonathan. ‘More like torture,’ said Elizabeth, uncrossing and recrossing her legs in frustration. Little doubt she was already growing wet, she knew. More than half an hour to go before the train even arrived at the station, and it would likely be another ten minutes before they would pull away from the station…it had been difficult but manageable to banish any.
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