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Showing posts with the label Sharon Smithfield

The Red Belt of Saint Ethelburga

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The second part, from Uniform Girls 14 The well-oiled lock of the oak door of St Martha’s Retreat opening smoothly to Father James’s key. Opening and then closing again behind the monk and his young postulant companion. The equally well-oiled bolt sliding into place. No interruptions were wanted while this beauteous young woman was at her devotions. Not half-an-hour ago Father James had been in here with the girl’s visitor, one of the infrequent visits the nuns were allowed. And by some quirk of chance her knickers, removed in an earlier devotion, had been carelessly left lying on the sofa. For the Reverend Father to snatch up quick-wittedly before they caught the visitor’s eye. That was the reason, or the excuse, that she was here again: that error — though it had not been her doing but that of the other monk, Brother Oswald. Not that knickers being taken off was in any way rare or unusual at the Priory of St Ethelberga. A new

The Order of Saint Ethelburga

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First part of two, from Uniform Girls 14 The sound of crisp, clear voices soaring above the more sombre tones of the organ. Female voices chanting in joyful unison as they had no doubt done in these ancient stone walls over hundreds of years. Father James smiled at his visitor. ‘They will be at practice for another 30 minutes. The human voice is a truly marvellous instrument, is it not, Mr Whitford? And I always think especially the female voice. Yes: the sound of angels. When trained, of course, to bring it into its full flowering. Brother Oswald does an outstanding job with them. But it is a labour of love; he is a wonderfully dedicated man.’ The visitor, Anthony Whitford, murmured assent. The soaring voices were marvellous. How many would there be? A dozen was it he had been told, nuns and novitiates, in this small daughter house of the Order. One of their number his own niece, Alison, whom he had come to visit today.

Mr Ardley’s Conditions

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From New Blushes Uniform Girls 2.04 Mr Ardley came round to see Sharon’s parents one evening at the end of her last year in the Lower Sixth. He had arranged the visit by phone and Sharon had a pretty good idea what it was about and would have very much preferred to be out. But Mr Ardley had specifically instructed that she be present. Howard Ardley was Deputy Head at Mountfield School. Philip and Anne Smithfield had met him once or twice at school functions: a big, heavily built man in his forties with thick dark hair and glasses. He could be charming to parents — but apparently could put the frighteners on Mountfield pupils when necessary. A number of girls were really scared of him. They hadn’t necessarily been on the receiving end of anything but they would have heard whispers. Were those whispers true? Sharon was afraid she was about to find out. She hadn’t had a very good year at school. She knew she should have given her