"I've just received the strangest note," Nancy declared with a frown as she came into Kathie's room and shut the door firmly behind her.
"What's that my love?" Kathie, cosily ensconced in her armchair, looked up from the novel she was reading.
"This," Nancy replied, brandishing a piece of paper. She handed it to Kathie, and then proceeded to pace the room anxiously.
Kathie read the note, and burst out laughing. "Oh my," she said. "Oh my oh my."
"It's not funny!" Nancy said, rather crossly.
"Oh, it is my love," Kathie replied. "So, are you going to accept their invitation and go up to the old herdsman's hut and talk to them? It sounds like there might be quite a sizeable audience you could educate with your, um, considerable expertise."
"No I am not! And don't say it like that - that sounds like I'd be seducing them." And then, catching sight of a gleam in Kathie's eye, she said sternly, "And you're not to go either."
"Of course I won't," Kathie said, chuckling still. "It would just be too, too weird." But with a grin, she read through the note once more. Catching sight of the initials at the bottom of the page, she gasped a little. "'C.M.'?" she said. "Please tell me that's not who I think it is...."
It was a Sunday evening following a typically eventful weekend at the Chalet School, and in a quiet corner of the staffroom, two women were chatting companionably. One of them was busy explaining to the other just exactly how, earlier that afternoon, she'd unfortunately ended up in the middle of a snowball war organized by two rival factions of Middles, when suddenly she froze. There, at the corner of her eye, was the sight she'd been dreading all week. Despite all her better instincts, she couldn't help her gaze being dragged ever more firmly towards what appeared to be the embodiment of all her worst nightmares.
"What is it, Nance?" Kathie asked, seeing the peculiarly stricken look upon her partner's face.
Nancy didn't reply.
With no reply forthcoming, Kathie followed the line of Nancy's gaze. And then gave vent to a rather uproarious chuckle.
There, standing menacingly, and brandishing a banana and a variety of small but interesting looking pieces of rubber, was Ruth Derwent.
"Ready for your lesson, Nancy?" Ruth said, with a wicked glint in her eye.
White as a sheet, and clutching on to the arms of her chair fiercely, Nancy shook her head. "Er...I've been thinking...maybe another time?...you know, I'm not sure that maths teachers and bananas mix..." She finished with a hopeful, but nervous smile.
"Oh no, Nancy Wilmot, we're going through with this, whether you like it or not."
"She did what?" Hilda exclaimed, putting the coffee pot she'd been about to pour from down on the table rather heavily. It was the morning after a rather illuminating 'demonstration' in the staffroom.
Nell Wilson leaned closer to her co-head and whispered in her ear.
"With her mouth?" The exclamation was laced with incredulity, and not a little awe.
Grinning, Nell nodded.
Looking down the breakfast table to where Ruth Derwent was sitting, Miss Annersley regarded her Head of English with a new-found respect.
Late one night, a group of girls were gathered in a dormitory, sharing sweets and talking about things they really shouldn't. Luckily for them, Matey was suffering from indigestion and therefore wasn't patrolling the corridors as assiduously as usual. But had she been around to hear, there is little doubt that she would have been perturbed by the direction conversation had taken.
"But, " one of the girls was informing her rapt audience, "Mamma says that toothpaste doesn't really work..."