CBB Advent Calendar 18th December 2004
The CBB -> Cookies & Drabbles

#1: CBB Advent Calendar 18th December 2004 Author: CBB Triumvirate PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 9:24 am


Apologies in advance for the way this one ends, talk about no inspiration!



The elderly lady patted the grey bun on the back of her head; it was a neat as always. For some years she had dyed her hair, but as the steel grey took over more and more she had finally let nature take its’ course. It had done her good, now in her 80’s she was a stately, well respected and much loved woman. Not that she realised any of this herself of course. One of her other qualities was an awareness of her own frailties and an unassuming acceptance of everyone else’s. She had her faults of course, she could be slightly dogmatic when it came to her specialist subjects, failing to realise that not everyone held the same interests and whilst she readily forgave those who wronged her, she would hold a grudge for years against those who wronged her friends or her charges.

Her charges, yes, she was a teacher, a Head Mistress of a prestigious girls boarding school. The Chalet School was recognised as one of the leading international public schools and competition for both student places and jobs there was fierce, and it was well recognised that a job at the Chalet was a job for life, very few staff wanted to leave once they had obtained what to most of them was the job made in their dreams. The Head had kept to the policy of appointing staff who were at the start of their careers as well as more established staff, and this had paid off as she had an eye for those staff who would fit in with the ethos of the school and who would bring something extra to the community as well. She had also maintained the scholarships and the schools commitment to finding places somehow for those children recommended to them by the large Sanatorium with whom they still had many close links.

Today was going to be hard; she knew that. She took one last look in the mirror, pulled her academic gown straight and left the study. She walked down the main stairs into the entrance hall and for a moment stopped and looked around at the trophy cabinet, at the paintings of the original chalet and the founder of the school, and at the honours boards which had been repositioned there a few years previously to give them more space. She glanced at some of the names, both from the earliest years and more recently, so many girls who had touched her life as she had touched theirs. Looking out of the window she took a deep breath, taking strength from the majestic view and made her way towards the hall.

It was the final morning of term and the school had gathered for prayers, for once not split into Protestant and Catholic, for this occasion the whole school wished to be together. The Head Girl opened the door and held it as the Head walked through, and as one the school rose and began to clap. Speeches by the board and by parents had been and gone during the sale, but this was different. This was a private moment. This was their tribute. Nancy Wilmot was taking school prayers for the last time before retiring as Head of the Chalet School.

She managed to keep her composure throughout Prayers, though with an effort. Her professional pride demanded no less, and besides there was a very special guest sitting with the small group of guests at the back of Hall, and she had no intention of failing in front of her. She had managed her own last prayers without breaking down, and Nancy was determined to follow her example in that as in everything else she had done as Head. For this reason she avoided catching Hilda Annersley’s eyes for the whole for the brief service. She introduced her replacement in a steady voice. A stranger to the school, who would bring fresh ideas, had been the main idea behind the appointment. That, and the fact that the candidate had been clearly the strongest there, with a vision for the future of the school which was also faithful to its history.
Afterwards she allowed her emotions to leak through when she sat beside the lederly lady in the wheelchair who had been her own Head. Hilda Annersley was very frail now, but her mind was still as sharp as ever, and she expressed her pride in Nancy very clearly.

When everybody had left the school the new Head wandered around on her own assessing the place carefully. She had thought of one or two ideas on her tour when she had been interviewed and had brought them up at the time. Now she had the time and the opportunity to do a more complete examination, starting with her own quarters. She had been given carte blanche to do as should liked with them, the Governors accepting that her tastes would be very different to that of the older woman. She opened the door to the small flat and walked forward into the living room. Looking around her she winced as she took in the flower-besprinkled cretonne curtains, matching loose covers on the old-fashioned suite, with the antimacassars draped over the backs. The walls were washed in a light creamy-yellow which she hated. Well it could all go, she thought. There was an Ikea in Interlaken now that would provide her with the modern simplicity she preferred.
She walked through into the kitchen/diner. This was a small room, for it was expected that she would eat with the school during term time, and would probably return home in the holidays. However, there were no modern fitments here at all, and she looked forward to changing that!
The bedroom was a distinct shock when she walked into it. Whereas the public rooms of the little flat were as she would have expected, the bedroom obviously reflected Nancy’s own tastes and was very modern and up-to-date. The carpet was clearly original, for it had traditional flower patterns all over it. The walls were plain, but the curtains sported geometric designs in bright colours that shouted the 1970s. The cover on the plumeau was in the same bright material, and the new Head winced. Well, she thought, there was the whole summer to get the place the way she wanted it. She looked out of the window towards the Jungfrau which reared over the Gornetz Platz, permanently capped in snow, and smiled in satisfaction. There was the reason she had taken the post in the first place. The location of this school was inspirational, and the challenge of dragging it into the second half of the Twentieth Century was one she relished. She had got the job on her own merits too, for no one knew of her family connections to the school, which stretched back to its beginnings. Her Grandmother Juliet had been one of the early Head Girls, but she had had no daughters to send to the school and her Granddaughters had all gone to school in England. All the connection she had was a shared name – Juliet.

It took Juliet just three weeks to set the place by its ears. Her own quarters had been redecorated by the start of the new term, as had the office, the study, the staff library and the staffroom. The girls common rooms had also been completely refurbished and the library prefect gasped when she saw the crates of new books all waiting to be unpacked. On questioning where they were to be put, she was told in no uncertain terms that room would be found, and that the staff responsible for each department would be weeding through all the older textbooks and journals.
“It may also be time to get rid of some of the trash,” the head had said, waving a hand in the direction of the school’s collection of Josephine Bettany books. I understand that Miss Bettany has a close connection with the school, and as some of her earlier books are becoming collectors items, maybe we could remove them to the museum and make room for some good children’s literature, as well as some of the modern classics you seniors should become acquainted with.”

Joey was not happy when this was reported back to her, as Juliet had known it would be. The library prefect was Julia Entwistle after all, Joey’s great-granddaughter. Julia had been rather upset and had told her great-grandmother at the first opportunity. Joey had brooded over the affair, half annoyed at being called trash, and half proud at being regarded as collectable and worth keeping in the museum. She was unable to much about it however as she died at the end of that eventful term (see 16th December). She did manage one act of revenge however. Earlier in the term she had rewritten her will and left a sizeable amount to the school, one that could not be turned down, with the proviso that current pupil, and each new pupil thereafter was to be presented with a copy of one of her books and that the schools copy of her own books were to remain in the library, accessible to all.

That is jumping forward a little however and out story is now about Juliet and the changes she made. The staff were shocked to say the least when at the usual beginning of term staff meeting they were presented with new curricula for their consideration and told that they should be reviewed with regard to implementation the following term and that each Head of Department would be expected to bring sample lesson plans, resource lists and training needs analysis to the head before half term. The last made them all sit up, most of them had not done any further training since leaving university, although all had been expected to keep up to date by reading academic journals. The thought of being sent of the Berne for example for weekend or week long professional courses was a new one for them.

It was the minor changes that upset people though, stopping using German phrases such as ‘Kaffee und Kuchen’ and ‘abendessen’ other than on German days; replacing cubicle curtains with plywood dividers up to just above head height, with curtains only at the front, and worse allowing the girls to tack posters onto these ‘walls’; changing the Saturday night dancing to add in popular music; Having prayers only once a day instead of twice, starting each day with a secular school assembly where notices would be given and where each mistress was expected to ‘share an uplifting thought’ as a way of beginning each day; and even worse than all these changing the school diet to one that reflected good nutritional practice, no more whipped cream and lots more fresh fruit. No more rich pastries and lots more fresh salads. By three weeks into term the school was in revolt, teaching and non-teaching staff and pupils alike. Juliet was happy. She knew that to bring the school up to date and to stem its falling numbers she would have to cut out and burn away a lot of the dross and she had been given a free hand by the board of governors. Not that anyone questioned her to her face; all her orders were obeyed implicitly, the Chalet School being one of the last footholds of ‘unquestioning obedience’, to start with anyway.

Among the pupils were many with relations among the staff, and The Family were very much on their guard against changes, seeing them as criticism of their own ways. The Family were not about to leave Juliet unchecked and after the day she woke up to find a horses head in her bed Juliet began to take precautions. It was difficult to get contraception on the Platz, but she managed it. She also started wearing a bulletproof vest as Len, expert marksman discovered. It was stab proof as Cecil, who had the same delight in knives as her ‘auntie nun’ discovered, and she started having all her food tasted, as a succession of unfortunate middles discovered.

In the end it was a total accident. The avalanche that should have been the main event of half term was, well the final event of half term for Juliet. Not being brought up in and steeped in school traditions she did not know to rush to a herdsmans hut and feast on chocolate melted in snow. She became separated from her party of prefects, none of whom wanted to report the matter as they were all members of The Family and was never seen again. It turned out that she must have fallen over the glacier as the snow overwhelmed her as 70 years later she floated out entombed in ice looking just as she did the day she fell in. A perfect story ending. This time The Family paid the board off and ensured that one of them became Head Mistress and the Chalet School slowly gained a cult like status with phrases such as ‘not a sausage’, ‘I didn’t think’, ‘all the hanes’, ‘That was before I discovered what a solid lump of comfort he could be’, ‘slipped a dose into her milk’, ‘the middles latest’, ‘The lemonade is standing in the passage’, ‘going to be a little busy in the spring’, ‘ Three cheers for the best school ever’, and the ever popular ‘ still, grey and to all appearances dead’ being chanted across the internet ad infinitum.

 


#2:  Author: LesleyLocation: Rochester, Kent PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 9:52 am


Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Laughing Poor Juliet! What a fate. Love The Family!


Nancy Wilmot

The Jungfrau

Solid lump of comfort

 


#3:  Author: Helen PLocation: Cheshire PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 9:53 am


Laughing

I'm going to assume all those phrases at the end are a red herring... Confused

Nancy Wilmot
avalanche
unquestioning obedience

 


#4:  Author: ellendLocation: Bow, London PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 10:05 am


Juliet Carrick

honours board

The walls were washed in a light creamy-yellow



I've not got better than 2 out of 3 yet and I don't think I will here.

Ellen

PS: Another good story.

 


#5:  Author: patmacLocation: Yorkshire England PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 11:54 am


I still can't guess. that was littered with likely words and phrases. Love the story though. Makes the Russell/Maynard/Bettany family sound as if the could come from Sicily Twisted Evil

 


#6:  Author: Kathy_SLocation: midwestern US PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 3:29 pm


Nancy Wilmot
honours board
Three cheers for the best school ever

Poor Nancy, bamboozled by such a replacement....
Especially liked Joey's will! Mr. Green

 


#7:  Author: MihiriLocation: surrey england PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 6:15 pm


Juliet Carrick
the family
the lemonade is standing in the passsage

great drabble, thanks

 


#8:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 7:50 pm


*giggles wildly!!*

*wonders what drugs the Triumvirate are taking!!!*

 


#9:  Author: CBB Triumvirate PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 9:55 pm


Vikki wrote:
*giggles wildly!!*

*wonders what drugs the Triumvirate are taking!!!*


OI!!! Cheek! We ain't taking nuffink!!!

 


#10:  Author: VikkiLocation: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 10:02 pm


*raises a sceptical eyebrow......*

 


#11:  Author: LizBLocation: Oxon, England PostPosted: Sat Dec 18, 2004 11:14 pm


Does anyone else find now find that when they're reading an ordinary drabble they start picking out names or phrases?

Hilda Annersley
cretonne curtains
'not a sausage'

Liz

 


#12:  Author: CBB Triumvirate PostPosted: Sun Dec 19, 2004 9:19 am


There were some good guesses! The answers were:

Nancy Wilmot
Flower-besprinkled cretonne curtains
“That was before I discovered what a solid lump of comfort he could be.”

 




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