Tribes of St. Trinian's
Disclaimer: I don't own the St. Trinian's franchise or any of its characters. I am just borrowing them here for a little while.
"I was a ghost before you came
And I was a slave but then I changed.
And I will take the good and bad;
For many I am a slave to this again
So leave me alone before the strain of listening to me
Becomes more than you can bear…"
JES—Ghost
Preamble: More Than You Can Bear
"Haven't you shamed me enough?" The dark haired man behind the desk asked. Pushing violently away from the piece of furniture, he swivelled out of his office chair and worried his widow's peak with one hand. "First, you get tossed out of St. Catherine's for bugger knows what and now you fail your entrance exam to Cheltenham. What am I supposed to do with you? I promised my dear sainted brother on his deathbed that I would look after you and here you are failing out of primary school like some despicable dosser's runt. I repeat myself, Kelly, what am I supposed to do with you?"
The ten year old brunette swallowed and stared down at her shoes, actually afraid of looking up again until the man in front of her had reined his anger in some.
"I don't know, Uncle," the girl muttered.
"What was that? Speak up, girl!" Her uncle prompted, turning around to lean across his desk so his fifty something ears could better hear her.
"I said I am sure I don't know what you should do with me, Uncle," Kelly repeated more properly than before.
Her uncle was an old fashioned man who only respected three things in life: propriety, money, and outside reputation. Little Kelly Jones was neither proper, moneyed, or reputable and that made her the bane of her only guardian's existence. He never missed an opportunity to remind her what she was not and that—even at the tender age of ten—he had no hopeful prospects for her other than to marry her off to become some other man's problem once she was old enough. He reminded her daily that it hadn't been his choice to take her in, that fate or karma or whatever it was had screwed them both over by taking her parents away and he was also never a man to suffer alone. As a private solicitor it was his job to make sure people suffered with him, legally most of the time, but privately was just as good when it came to his only niece and only family.
Personally, Cyril Jones didn't even like children. He couldn't think of any more persistent or difficult a pest to eradicate and as a high end solicitor in the private sector, he had met his fair share of human vermin, but children were the worst. And his niece was the worst excuse for a child he'd ever had the unfortunate displeasure of taking care of.
He moved back to his chair and reached into a mahogany box to pull out a thin rolled cigar and a pair of cutters. When he had the cigar the way he wanted it, he lit it and took a first puff, leaning back in the tall leather chair.
"The question is what to do with you?" He thought aloud, "No decent school will have you now that you not only bombed your examination to Cheltenham, but also managed to receive a negative score, which I didn't even know was possible until you did it. Your behavioural record at St. Catherine's has also limited our choices of where to put you as no respectable institution is going to want to take in a repeat junior offender and twice proven arsonist. If it were up to me I would just let you rot in a room somewhere for the rest of your sodding life, but it won't do to have Education Welfare breathing down my neck now will it?"
Kelly sat on her hands. Her dark hair fell in a short mushroom cut around her head almost as much as a security policy against rogue flames than just an easily manageable hair style. She was a slight, underweight kid who was so small and squeaky that even Minnie mouse looked more intimidating than she did most days, oh, but how appearances were deceiving.
"I suppose," Cyril sighed, loosening his tie with a free hand, "that it wouldn't hurt to look at places that have accepted members of our family in the past. We might have a leg up there. Your father and I both went to Eton so there's no hope of that. Your mother went to this little dot on the map not too far from Cambridge. What was it called? St. Trinian's, I believe. Hm, perhaps if your mother made a good enough impression there, we'll be able to skirt some of the more discriminating questions on the registry form like 'does your child have a criminal record'. I'll phone up the Headmistress this afternoon. You better pray she's not one of those staunch tight arsed birds who take such pride in enrolling the proper students or else we're both done for."
A small smile settled on Kelly's face, though she immediately tried to hide it at her uncle's glare. A new school. New teachers to torment. New girls to undermine and fight with and just another chance to get back at her uncle for letting her know every day just how much he wished she wasn't his responsibility. She would show them. She would show them all and in six months' time she would again be without a school and fully her uncle's problem once more. Serves the miserable bastard right, Kelly thought as he eyed her with another disgusted look.
He nodded his head as if to himself, eyes scrutinizing her as if she was some sort of animal he was assessing the condition of.
"St. Trinian's it is," He said and that was how Kelly Jones first came to Miss Fritton's safe haven for unruly girls.
To Be Continued...
