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best soothing voice she could manage. Please stop your crying. I promise Ill not report this episode -- but you must tell me -- is this Lucy a girl in your year, or perhaps a girl in a lower year? Please, tell me Mary, have you been having sex here -- at the school -- with a fellow pupil? Or is Lucy just a fantasy figure. Someone youve made up?
Whilst shed been speaking, Mrs. Brown had been gently squeezing Marys shoulder, trying to console her and calm her down. Trying to get her to open up about why she had felt the need to sit masturbating in the toilets -- especially on her own time, after school - and then suddenly, as if shed reached a monumental stage in her young life and made a final decision Mary looked up into Mrs. Browns face once again.
Its you Mrs. Brown! Its you! YOURE Lucy! Oh God help me, please God help me! Im so sorry Mrs. Brown I just cant help it Mary cried... I love you! I know you will hate me now and I know that youll report me and I know that theyll throw me out of the school and I know that...
Stop! Cried Mrs. Brown, anger and shock in her voice. She paused for a few moments -- gathering her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was softer, calmer. Please, please, Mary, stop crying. I shant report you. Truly I shant. But please, stop crying -- and lets get you cleaned up so that I can take you home Mrs. Brown gave Marys shoulder a last squeeze then moved away in order to give the girl a bit of privacy as she got dressed.
Mary put her panties back on and started to tidy her clothes and it was whilst she was blowing her nose loudly into some toilet paper and flushing it away that she suddenly realised what Mrs. Brown had said:
Lets get you cleaned up so that I can take you home!
Mary walked unsteadily out of the cubicle and found Mrs. Brown waiting for her.
Come on Mary. she said surprisingly softly Lets get along to my office and well tidy up your face and then Ill drop you off at your house. All of the rest of the school will have gone home by now, so no one will see us.
Mary followed Mrs. Brown out into the deserted corridor and the few yards that took them from the ladys toilets to Mrs. Browns office. Mary wasnt totally sure, but she thought that she detected an extra little wiggle in Mrs. Browns walk as they made their way down the passageway...
The drive to Marys home would take about 15 minutes normally, but now, with the rush hour traffic, it was quite likely that it was going to take considerably longer.
Mary sat in the front passenger seat, next to Mrs. Brown and looked around her at the other cars and at the pedestrians all hurrying to
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be somewhere else. It had begun to rain quite heavily and Mary felt glad to be inside a nice, warm car. Normally, she would either have gone home by bus or, in the summer months, she would have cycled in to school. In fact, she had hoped to have her own car by now – like many of her classmates – but failing her driving test a few weeks ago had meant that had to go on temporary hold.
Getting cleaned up in Mrs. Browns office had not been the ordeal that Mary had imagined. Mrs. Brown had helped her remove the gummy, streaked eye makeup and had assisted her to disguise the tear tracks and any other marks that shouldnt have been there. Then, with a quick application of her hairbrush, Mary had completed the process and they were ready. No mention had been made of Marys little indiscretion and Mary was hoping in her heart-of-hearts that it would all blow over.
Once she had cleaned herself up, Mary had said that she was alright and that honestly, she could get the bus. But Mrs. Brown told her that as it was virtually on her way, she would drop Mary off before going on to her own home. Now, watching the rain streaming down the windscreen and at the wipers swishing across the screen with a rhythmic slap, slap, slap, slap, Mary was glad that she had relented and accepted the proffered lift.
Sitting in the bumper to bumper traffic, edging along at little more than walking pace sometimes, the two women chatted on amiably – almost like old friends in fact - about things in general and indeed, when they got on to the subject of men and boys, Mrs Brown even cracked a joke at which they both laughed uproariously. Mary felt relaxed and happy. She knew she had done wrong and she knew that things would not – could not – ever be exactly the same again, but right now she just felt good being in Mrs. Browns company. She sighed unconsciously.
Are you okay, Mary? asked Mrs. Brown I know this traffic is murder, but really, Im afraid it cant be helped. she said.
No. Said Mary almost dreamily Its not the traffic, its just – well – its just that I was thinking.... Her voice trailed off into silence and, when she didnt continue, Mrs Brown said
What were you thinking, Mary? Would you like to tell me about it?
Mary was only kind of half listening to her teacher. The slow, rhythmic slap, slap, slap of the wipers, coupled with the welcoming warmth inside the car and the subdued background music from the cars radio were making Mary drowsy and she found it all that she could do to concentrate on what Mrs. Brown was saying and upon actually staying awake. She yawned absently.
Are you tired Mary? Asked Mrs. Brown Why not take a nap if you wish – Ill wake you when were there. Itll take ages yet with
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