Nobody searched a locker as ruthlessly as Millie searched a locker.
It was lucky - once I'd got into 6's, the Hag was about to leave, and I suppose the joy of locker seaching and booty snatching had grown stale for her. Mrs Blunt was too vague and unmotivated to begin on a career of locker-searching, and Jackdaw was probably too nervous that locker contents would cascade out and ruin her stockings. As for searching upstairs, her heels would have made too much noise and ruined her mission - a giveaway! Not to mention that we'd have made even more cawing noises to torment her.
Dear old Pot lacked the finesse for the sudden locker-swoop. I don't remember her ever confiscating anything. Even my transistor radio, which she found talking quietly to itself at the bottom of a "packet of Ariel" was remarked upon but not removed. Therefore, she suffered the humiliation of being informed by DR that pet mice were being kept in lockers.
That was a bit mean of Judy Evans. To boldly go straight to DR with the info, rather than tactfully allowing Pot to deal with the situation. Pot was shown up as not knowing What Was Going On.
Locker searches! Little did I know what the future held - the daily mascara-seeking mission of two daughters to whom my make-up bag was a casual target.
"Baldrick, you wouldn't recognise a cunning plan if it painted itself purple, and danced naked on top of a harpsichord singing "Cunning plans are here again.""