Nice use of a

, Jo... I note that that was your post no 666...
Well, I suppose that an account of having sat next to WL caused me suddenly to s-n-a-r-l. A reflex action. Should I still be feeling like this? Probably not. I only remember WL with anger when I come across another Wendy and the pleasant sweet little name brings back the most unfortunate memories.
Wasn't it invented by J M Barrie as "Friendy-Wendy"?
Not exactly friendly. (I expect any frank account of my second year at CH and first year in 6's will be immediately moderated.) I'd had a very happy first year in 1's, enormously enjoying being with many other girls my own age. We had Millie as Housemistress, but hey, safety in numbers! Then there was the great division into Senior Houses. DR put into 6's 'A' form me and Jasmin Ansar - goodness, she was clever! - and three 'B' formers. I felt pretty lonely without all my friends - I suppose I reacted by becoming
more boisterous.
Day after day, it was "Report to the Study" at 08.30 hrs after breakfast. The main crime was "untidiness", but I think that it was more my attitude problem

None of the shoe-cleaning, essay -writing, clean-all-the-baths-and-basins in-the-House punishments had any disciplinary effect. Although I felt a little aggrieved that these activities were stepped up during Exam Weeks, at least I would be left to beaver away, with Gumption or shoe polish, on my own which was infinitely better than the "blowings-up". The blowings-up were bad, very bad.
I remember the routine only too well. I would knock, be admitted and stand holding the big bluebelled door handle behind my back. In front of me was always WL, her mouth opening and closing in an endless stream of
frank opinions, her furious face like a large piece of roast beef. In the background - blonde Anne-Marie Kelly, judicially cool, poised and beautiful. Ruth McCurry would be propped up against the radiator, hands linked under her GA in characteristic pose, watching my reactions with a strange dispassionate curiosity. Every so often their charming vague colleague Susan Cottingham would wander about, seeming not to notice the floorshow at all.
I developed a sort of disassociation technique. I would mentally recite the names of all the South London streets round about my home. Telford Avenue, New Park Road, Kirkstall Road, Kelieser Avenue! The reassuring music of those names! Then one day, my mind snapped back into the present - WL, in her tirade, had split an infinitive! Perhaps unwisely, I pointed it out.
It was like the *pyroclastic flow from an erupting volcano!
For some time, I begged my parents to intervene, as my schoolwork and exam results deteriorated. They considered that it would make things much worse for me if I complained. Of course, I should have gained in toughness, but didn't. So, the routine continued. WL was kind enough to give me a special mention for worthlessness in the end-of-year House Report book.
It was unfortunate that this situation occurred and that it was in the days when 6's Housemistress, The Hag, left all the disciplining to The Study. I determined, and I know Alex did too, never to behave in this way to the younger children. I just loved the juniors when I was in the Study - like funny little sisters as they tumbled about full of exciting thoughts and ideas.
However,
I never broke down and cried during these miserable sessions.
Cage kickers, there we are. Wretched memories! Sorry.
*Is this the word? Scientists, correct me!
"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.""