Sunday, March 26, 2023

Marie-Chantal in Scotland, part 6

For my first monthly report card, I had a 10.17/20 average. I had barely made the 10/20 average required by Aunty Davina and Uncle Archie. Thanks to Margaret having helped with math, my worst subject, I didn't have any grade under 10/20. Phew!

I had a 10.70/20 average for my second monthly report card. I again avoided a grade under 10/20 in math thanks to Margaret. Phew!

Aunty and Uncle told me to raise my average to 11/20. Gaining 0.3 point felt within reach. They had also added an encouraging, "Or else!"

Margaret was holding on her required 12/20 average. Only French could make her miss it, but I was helping her.

Having a good average was easy enough with regular work, but having no grades under 10/20 was quite a challenge. We couldn't as most of our classmates wing a lesson, and make up for it with the next one. We were told that it is about learning to be consistent.

We weren't punished for trivial infractions, as Amelia, who was spanked for having forgot to add washing powder to a load in the washer. As long as we were respectful, and didn't use improper language, our derrieres were safe. We could attend parties on weekends, and weren't punished if back home a little late.

Our log books were examined at least once a week by Aunty. She ignored small classroom misbehavior, but all remarks about our schoolwork were duly noted in the red booklet kept in the drawer with the hairbrush. We knew it could mean additional smacks, because we were warned.

All was peachy, and William took me for another ride on his motorcycle. I held onto him with both hands around his waist, and my skirt billowed. I thought I was a clan's lassie riding behind a knight on his steed. His friends were jealous. Girls were also jealous. Margaret teased, "You've showed your knickers to the whole town!"

I teased her back, "You are glowing! What have you been up to with Arthur?" We played the game, 'I'll tell you, if you tell me.'

I started with. "He opened my blouse."

She upped the game with. "He unhooked my front clasp and took both my titties out of my bra."

I would not be outdone. "He did that too and kissed my nipples!"

She went for the kill. "One of his hands was on my thigh, and then he moved up under my skirt"

I was defeated. I had caught William's hand, as it was still on my knee.

Amelia, who had overheard part of our chat, chimed, "French girls aren't as brazen as they say!"

I suitably blushed.

I was enjoying being back in school after my year of working as a bank teller. Although Aunty and Uncle weren't Papa and Maman, they obviously cared for me. It was home away from home. There was one drawback, the threat of having my knickers pulled down for a severe spanking, if my grades weren't satisfactory. At nineteen, it was very embarrassing, and not to mention that it hurt!

Then it was the dreaded last week of the month. It was also the day of the surprise weekly quiz. Every week we have a random quiz. Last week it was French, and since the teacher had been away to a seminar, Margaret was anxiously waiting for her grade.

The new supervisor announced, "This week's surprise quiz is math, you have one hour." Having said that, he turned the big screen on and the quiz appeared.

For my first math quiz I had almost wet my knickers, but it was linear equations. Thanks to Margaret's private lessons, I had managed an average grade. I read the first question of that new quiz on the big screen. I felt fairly safe. Ten minutes later it was another question. I started to worry. Forty minutes later l had a sickening feeling.

The supervisor chimed. "Your grades will be included in your monthly report cards to be handed out tomorrow."

Back home, I discussed that quiz with Margaret. Her verdict gave me nightmares. "You will be lucky to reach 10/20!"

She again asked about that French dictation, and I couldn't reassure her. We had reddish eyes in the morning, we had slept little.

Next morning, Mrs. Robertson, our form's head teacher, gave us our monthly report cards. She also offered comments, with very few praises. For Lucinda, who's twenty-one, it was, "If one of my girls brought home such a report card, I would have applied a cane to her bare bottom!"

When she handed me my report card, I got, "Disappointing! A sharp traditional Scottish skelping wouldn't be wasted!"

 For Margaret, the French prof said, "With such a poor grade in French it should be, "La fessée!"

Marie-Chantal and Margaret

To be continued...

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