Standing outside the Head's office was the old team of lawyers. Treadray the only one seemingly unconcerned. He's a bloody masochist seethed  Steve. He's enjoying this whole thing. Noble looked like a startled mongoose confronted by a cobra.

"Shit we're in big trouble now!" he stated as if they didn't know. The waiting was eating at their resolve, the atmosphere became an electric silence. Noble shuffled from foot to foot, his body shaking, his mouth twitching. Treadray took in a deep breath and puffed it out slowly through pressed lips. He stared off into space as if immune and disconnected from reality. He lived in the expectation of punishment.

All three jumped out of their reverie, senses on red alert as the door was flung open and there stood the Head triangulated in the doorway. "Get in here!" he signalled with his cane. "Stand over there! I've had just about enough of you three! I gave you ample opportunity to confess and still you chose to try and conceal your guilt." He was beside himself with rage, huffing and puffing his way around the desk.  Hands rigid on the tabletop he lunged forward pugnaciously, knuckles white. Three moon-faced boys, two looking down and one looking up, stood paralysed in front of him. He moved round from behind the desk swishing his gown open from in front to reveal a wicked looking cane that was reed-thin, sprung like tensile steel. Noble's words about canes flashed through Steve's mind like summer sheet lightning. There was nothing between him and his prey now and his close proximity was giving Steve his second feeling of claustrophobic terror.    

 "You three are the bane of my life! I cannot understand what I have done to deserve such a trio of troublemakers!" he grumbled. "I take it these belong to you?" he continued becoming more animated as he pointed to the offending weapons strewn across his desk.  Each end of the cane in a massive hand was bent in a rainbow toward the other and then released only to spring back straight again.  A terrified Steve could feel the bubbling anger building up in the man ready to spew forth and engulf them all so he decided to make his stand now.

"Excuse me Sir, but none of those are mine. I don't hav..." was as far as he got before a powerful backhand across the mouth sent him stumbling backwards into a crumpled sitting position wedged into the corner. The metallic taste of warm blood puddled in the bottom of his mouth.  He felt the thunder rushing in his ears. Stars like dust motes floated in the air in front of him as if dislodged by restless spirits. He shook his head trying to gather his befuddled thoughts when he was hoisted to his feet by the collar.

"Balderdash! Poppycock! Baloney and Piffle!" exploded the Head emphasising each word. "I have told you before not to answer me back. You're to speak when spoken to! Of the three of you, Morgan I think you are the ringleader and I will punish you most severely! Do you hear me boy?" he said shaking the small frame like a rag doll.

"Yes Sir!"

"Don't you, ‘Yes Sir' me you insolent young scoundrel!"

Steve was forced over, blood dripping out of his mouth and six vicious cuts were slashed across his taut trousers. Each stroke was slow and deliberate; the Head letting each one take effect before administering the next. Steve was too traumatised for tears. He was in a state of shock; the agony too great to describe.  As he stumbled from the doorway he vaguely remembered hearing the other two receive four strokes as their punishment. Whilst in his daze he sensed that something wasn't right with his legs, and as he ran his hands behind his thighs, his fingers slipped on the blood dribbling down his hamstrings and into his socks.

He looked up at the monster towering above him on the steps and their eyes locked.

Steve had come across a moment with a man when some unspoken message passed through the air and hung suspended and invisible, a kind of primitive recognition that shifted the cauldron of the universe. It was raw and tangible.

"You will never, ever, ever hurt me again!" Steve promised himself.

(How can a kid deal with this sort of thing? Read Part 19........ )