A Rose By...

“Excuse me Sir, the Headmaster has asked to see Kirsten Ellison.” Any interruption was welcome in 6A at this time of the day. A quarter to three, on Thursday afternoon and even the HSC Maths A (top) class were flagging. Kirsten didn’t particularly like Maths, but she knew it was required if she was to get into her chosen university (and escape Hobart forever).

“Kirsten? Go please.”

“Thank you sir.”


Kirsten straightened her tie, gathered her pencil case and book, and left the room quietly. She wanted to be a teacher, and hoped to get into Rusden College in Melbourne to do it, (and escape Hobart forever), and so thought it worthwhile being polite and considerate to her teachers now. She wondered what the Head wanted to see her about though; she knew she was getting close to earning her 250th merit card for good behaviour and academic effort, but such certificates were awarded on Friday afternoon at school assembly.


Kirsten paused at her locker to put her books and pencils in it. She knew that a call to the Head’s office usually involved some waiting which is why she’d chosen to pack her things, (and Mr Abel, the maths teacher had not intervened), rather than leaving them on her desk for later. It would be time to go home when she was out of the office.

“Belinda, do you know why I’ve been summoned?” Belinda had been the messenger, and was passing Kirsten just as she turned away from her locker.

“Sorry Kirsty I don’t. I know he’s got some of the fag-hags with him now, and two bogans, but they’re hardly your sort of company. Sorry mate I need to dash, he also wants to see Vanessa Carlon.” Belinda kept walking.


Now the puzzle deepened. Vanessa Carlon was known as a bully and a rebel, she’d been caught extorting money from the new-girls. The fag-hags were girls who were known to be smokers, and the bogans were the scruffy types who were always in detention for wearing laddered tights under rolled-up skirts, or untucked blouses and crooked ties. The school crime-lord, scruffs and smokers, hardly the company Kirsten ever kept. Maybe she was being asked to go as an example of what good girls are like. She could just imagine the Head saying, “now ladies, and I use that term loosely, why can’t you be more like Kirsten Ellison here.” Kirsten really hoped not.


Outside the office was a line of three girls. The bogans and Vanessa. (Vanessa’s classroom was next to the office so she’d got there quicker than Kirsten had.) Just as Kirsten reached the line, flashing what she hoped was a friendly smile at Vanessa, the door opened and four girls walked out.

“Joanna!” It was Vanessa’s voice. “Jo-mate, what de’do?”

Joanna looked up at Vanessa, tears filling her eyes; she just nodded and kept walking.

“Jo-mate? Oh. Hey Caroline, Cazza? Cazza!” Caroline Vass similarly looked at Vanessa without saying anything, but her tear-stained cheeks and her nod of assent told Vanessa what she needed to know.

“Fuck!”

Kirsten jumped. She’d never heard anyone use that word in school before, certainly not outside the Headmaster’s office, and not with the door still open.

“What’s the matter Vanessa?”

“Fuck! It’s the thirtieth today isn’t it?”

“Yes Vanessa it is.”

“Last afternoon of the month.”

Kirsten still didn’t understand the significance of the date, but agreed that tomorrow, Friday, would indeed be the first of next month. Samantha Walsh, who was just leaving the Head’s office turned to Vanessa and said “Yes mate.”

“It’s punishment arvo. Not that you’d know Miss Priss, but the last afternoon of the month is when all the girls who have earned it during the month have to come up here for corporal punishment.”

“I’m sorry Vanessa; I still don’t get what you’re saying.”

Samantha turned around, “He’s caning us, you idiot! Each of us just got three across the arse with the stick.”

“Walsh! Unless you’d like to come back for a few more I suggest you get to class immediately.” The Head’s secretary was at the door, helping Amanda Barrowman who was sobbing uncontrollably. Kirsten stepped out of line and took Amanda’s hand, helping her past the line of girls.

“Oh Kirsty, I got five; and I’ve never been caned before. It really hurts.” Amanda was in the same class as Vanessa so Kirsten walked her down to the door.

“Sorry Miss,” said Samantha.

“Right, who have we here?” The secretary checked her list. “Vanessa Carlon, right. Two Dober sisters Victoria and Laura, right. Kristen-Elisa deWitt, o-kay she’s with Amanda now. Kristen-Elisa, hurry up!”

“Of course Ma’am, sorry.”

“In you go girls.”


Kirsten had been to the Head’s office on two occasions previously. Once with her parents when she was accepted into the Upper tier for HSC, (a special “gifted and talented” programme for clever girls), and once when she had had an asthma attack whilst playing touch-rugby for the school team in an after-hours tournament, and the sick-bay was out of action. On both occasions she’d been seen by the Assistant Head, Ms Penstock. She and Vanessa were shown to seats beside a low table whilst Victoria and Lauren Dober were taken straight in to see the Head.


“Kirsten Ellison, why are you here?” Vanessa seemed quite pleasant at this point, and seemed genuinely interested. What Kirsten did not know was that Vanessa had heard the roll call, and knew that there had been a mistake. By calling her “Kirsten Ellison” rather than “Kirsty” as all the other girls did, she was hoping to cement the idea in the secretary’s head that this girl was in fact Kristen-Elisa.

“I really don’t know Vanessa. Certainly not the reason why those other girls were here I imagine!” Kirsten laughed pleasantly. “Not that I wish them any malice of course, it must be horrible being caned.”

“So you’ve never been caned before?”

“No. I mean, my parents used to spank me when I was a girl, but no I’ve never been in so much trouble at school.”

“I can’t imagine you being spanked Kirsten Ellison.”

Kirsten smiled. “Well I don’t recommend it, but I suppose I learned from it. My mum still threatens me with the hairbrush when she thinks I’m getting bolshie, but I’ve not felt its fury since I was fifteen.”

“How old are you now?”

“I’ve just turned eighteen, like you. My birthday was in the July holidays”

Vanessa winced. Krissy deWitt was only sixteen, what if the secretary had heard? Then again, Krissy was blonde and Kirsten was coppery so they’d obviously not paid too much attention. Vanessa allowed herself a smile, which Kirsten returned. “You’d not be smiling if you knew what I know,” Vanessa thought to herself. “It’s so much more satisfying when the hitting part of a bully’s work is done for her.” Not that Vanessa considered herself a bully of course; it was more “estate management”.

“Are you going to get the cane Vanessa?” Kirsten was embarrassed to ask, but it seemed like the next obvious question in the conversation.

“Oh I expect so. What is it, September now? So that’s March, April, June; this is the fourth time this year I’m here for it.”

“Oh Vanessa! I’m so sorry.”

“Well Kirsten Ellison, when you break the rules you need to pay the consequences.”

“Does it…I mean…umm…does…”

“Yes. It hurts a lot. Didn’t you see the fag-hags?”

“Amanda was quite distressed, she said she got five.”

“Ooh. Usually it’s three. I imagine I’ll get five today, since it’s the fourth visit this year.”


The unmistakeable sound came through the wall behind them. Whoosh, crack, wah-HAaa!

Kirsten gulped. “Oh poor Lauren.”

“That’s Vicky actually. Lauren doesn’t cry, so they always cane Vicky first in the hope that Lauren might crack: seeing her twin sister arse-up over the desk.”

Whoosh, crack!

“They’ve been here before then?”

Ooh! Hoo-hoo.

“Yeah, they were here with me in March and June at least.”

“Oh.” Kirsten felt a tear well in her eye, and sat back in her seat. Vanessa allowed herself a smile and sat back as well. Both girls sat in silence as Victoria received her final stroke, and then Lauren had her three. Vanessa was right, Lauren’s voice was not heard in the way her sister’s had been.


“Stand up!”

“Huh?” Kirsten had been lost in thought and was startled by Vanessa’s instruction.

“The Dobers are coming out. It’s the code; any girl waiting here always stands when any girl leaving there comes out. Solidarity sister, on your feet!”

Kirsten stood up and turned towards the door. Lauren was stone-faced as she exited the room, holding Victoria’s hand and leading her towards the outer door. She winked at Kirsten and Vanessa, Victoria was too busy crying to acknowledge the ovation. “Poor things,” muttered Kirsten.


“Kristen-Elisa, come in here please.” The Head’s voice.

“Those poor girls,” Kirsten’s attention was on the retreating Dober sisters as she absently answered the Head’s command to enter his office. She presumed that since Vanessa was probably going to receive quite a firm punishment he’d called Kirsten in first, (since she was to receive no punishment), and allow her on her way. She saw it was now almost twenty-past-three, bell in ten minutes!

“Kristen-Elisa!”

“Sir, coming.”


The Head’s office was as she’d remembered it, although it was of course not Ms Penstock standing behind the big desk. Mr Aldwych, (known by all the girls, even the good girls, as “mister old-witch”), walked around the desk and shook Kirsten’s hand as she approached. “Take a seat Kristen. Is it fine if I just call you Kristen?”

Kirsten thought she’d misheard, but thought it better not to comment. After all, he’d shaken her hand so he obviously knew who she was: and it was better that being called “Kirsten Ellison” the whole time.

“That’s fine sir, thank you for seeing me sir.”

Mr Aldwych smiled, he’d not heard that before, but then this was to be young Miss deWitt’s first caning so he could imagine her being over-polite

“Now, Kristen, do you know why you are here.”

“No sir, I’m afraid I don’t.”

“It’s about your behaviour Kristen.”

“Of course sir.” Kirsten was sure he’d said “Kristen” that time, but again thought it of little consequence: as long as they had the spelling right on her certificate and he didn’t call her “Kirst”, which she hated, she didn’t mind.

“At this college we have a long tradition of educating ladies, such as you, to function in the world beyond our doors. One hundred years ago we were educating, the daughters of our colonial masters, and of the land-owners. Now any girl in Hobart, indeed any girl in Tasmania, may attend. And not just to raise a company of demure ladies to manage their husbands’ estates, but to equip young women, such as you, for the last decade of the twentieth century and indeed into the twenty-first.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Consequently, we have very strong ideas on behaviour and discipline. We have the name of our school to protect, but more importantly we want our graduating women to be well adjusted and ready for what comes next in life. What do you hope to do next, Kristen?”

“I want to go to Rusden sir, and it’s Kirsten actually.”

“Ah Rusden. Yes I was at Rusden, it’s a good school. And, more importantly, not in Tasmania.”

Kirsten smiled.

“Yes, you’ll be able to escape Hobart forever. Making it even more important, since you’ll be representing your State, that you have learned how to perform appropriately. I mean this both academically and with regard to conduct. We are a ladies college Kristen, we may not have ladies come in but we sure as eggs have ladies go out.”

“Of course sir, I hope I shall make you proud of me.”

“You must know then what this college makes of your conduct.”

“You mean how I’m behaving now sir? Yes sir, I think I know.”

“And you are aware of the rewards and sanctions policy of this school?”

“Yes sir, I was on the SRC in 1988 and 1989 when it was drawn up.”

“SRC?”

“Oh, Student Representative Council sir. It’s now called Pupil Forum.”

“Yes, so you know where this is leading then, this conversation. Kristen?”


Kirsten did know where this conversation was leading: she was to be called up in front of the assembly tomorrow to receive her Merit Award for 250 earned merits.


“Do we need to engage in further conversation Kristen-Elisa?”

“No, sir, I understand that you are a busy man and that you still need to talk to Vanessa Carlon. I appreciate your taking the time to speak with me first.”

“Good girl. Now I realise you’ve not been here before so I’ll take you through the procedure.”

“Thank you sir.” Kirsten had indeed been “here” before, not in this office but she had been publicly presented with her Merit Award for 100 earned merits, but she thought it best to allow the Head to finish his piece.

“Good girl, approach the desk.”


Kirsten stood up and walked across to the front of the large wooden desk.

“Lean forward, and place your hands flat on my blotter.”

Kirsten did so, imagining that this was some sort of processional rite. She was glad that she had taken up Mr Aldwych’s offer to walk her through the process; obviously there was to be some sort of desk on stage tomorrow and girls would be required to take their certificates from someone sitting behind it. Kirsten saw the green leather blotter where Mr Aldwych would have sat to write, and leaned across to place her hands upon it.

“Are you ready Kristen?”

A strange instruction, but as she was in place after the last instruction Kirsten replied “yes.”


Whoosh crack!


“Kristen-Elisa deWitt. Under guidance from this school’s 1989 Discipline and Behaviour policy I… BEND OVER!”

Kirsten had jumped when the cane had struck her, and had stood up with a startled squeal.

“Kristen-Elisa bend over the desk NOW, young lady, or do you want another stroke?”

Unsure of what was happening, Kirsten bent over the desk again, placing her hands on the blotter.

“Good girl. Now, under the policy I hereby deliver to you three strokes of the cane upon your covered buttocks for continued disregard of school rules, leading to you gaining three Red Card Warnings. Have you anything to say?”

“Sir, it’s not me that …


Whoosh crack!


“…ah-HA-a-ouch … oh sir it’s not me you want.”

“Disobedience brings its own rewards Miss deWitt.”

“But please sir, I’m not …”


Whoosh crack!

Whoosh crack!


“…ooh-hoo-hoo. Ha-aah-oow. Sir, I’m not her.”

“Foolish! You surprise me Kristen-Elisa.”


Whoosh crack!


“OW! Oh please sir, I’m Kirsten Ellison. Kirsten Louisa Ellison, from 6A. Kristen-Elisa deWitt is a different girl, she’s in 4C and she’s probably at the swimming meeting in Launceston.” Kirsten broke into tears. “Please sir, I’m a different girl.”


Mr Aldwych stood back. He turned and looked at the file on the desk beside the sobbing girl. “Birthdate?”

“Oh, mine sir, July two sir.”

Kristen-Elisa DeWitt was born in March.

“Class?”

“Six A sir, I was with Mr Abel when you called.” The tears were running down Kirsten’s face and her voice had a sighing quality, but she’d stopped crying.

“Well girl, stand up, what did you think you were doing here then?”

Kirsten stood up slowly. “I think I have 246 merits sir, I thought you were going to present me with my certificate tomorrow.”

“Miss …”

“Ellison sir. Kirsten.”

“Take a seat Kirsten.”

“Please sir I’d …” Kirsten was rubbing her bottom, unaware of “the code” that a caned girl waits until she can get into the toilets before doing so.

“You’d rather stand. Well, let’s leave this for later then. You go clean yourself up and I’ll see you back here tomorrow okay?” Mr Aldwych put his hand on Kirsten’s arm. “I cannot tell you how terribly sorry I am. Good afternoon Kirsten Ellison; oh what a silly error!”

“Thank you sir, good afternoon sir.”


Kirsten turned and walked out of the office. As she did so she saw Vanessa standing, awaiting her turn. “Nice meeting with the Head was it Kristen-Elisa deWitt?”

“Carlon?” Mr Aldwych was at the door. “You could have saved this unfortunate young lady a great deal of trouble. You’ll have your five, plus the five I gave her.”

Vanessa smiled, “Kirsten Ellison got five! Winner!”

“Vanessa Carlon, that is cruel and unthinking. I think I’ll ask you to raise your skirt on this occasion if I can find a female chaperone. Kirsten, would you agree to be Vanessa’s chaperone?”

“Please sir, let her just have the punishment she came for.” Kirsten smiled at Vanessa, and walked out.

“Now Vanessa, why can’t you be more like Kirsten Ellison? In you come.”