Читать книгу Rosie Dixon's Complete Confessions - Rosie Dixon - Страница 19

“And so, in the circumstances, I have no alternative but to ask for your resignation.” Matron looks at me severely. “I fully appreciate that my—that Nurse Green may have proved an evil influence but I cannot allow bad apples to go on spoiling the barrel indiscriminately. There is no place for bruised fruit at Queen Adelaide’s.” I can’t think of anything to say to that so I keep my mouth shut. “I realise that you were not alone in this sorry incident and Doctor Quint’s decision to leave the hospital and study Sleeping Sickness in the Congo is, I think, a wise one. If you could have your room cleared by …”

She need not worry. I have already packed my bags. Just time to say goodbye to a few friends and I will be ready for Adam Quint when he calls to take me out to lunch. Of course, there will be no repetition of the unsavoury scenes of the previous night. Champagne and virginity obviously do not mix as far as I am concerned. In days to come I must take good care of the merchandise if I am to avoid presenting my future Mr Right with shop-soiled goods. It is only by a hairsbreadth that I have so far avoided compromising my principles.

As I leave Matron’s office I am not as downcast as I might be. Of course, I am sad about leaving Queen Adelaide’s but I have in my pocket a letter from Penny Green which could lead to even more interesting and stimulating employment.

The writing paper is headed “St Rodence Private Boarding School For Girls, Little Rogering, Nr. Southmouth, Hants.” It reads: Dear Rosie, I hope you still remember me. I am now working as Sports Mistress at St Rodence. It is a crummy dump and most of the staff are nearer the grave than anything Queen A’s has to offer but the countryside is nice and there are lots of sailors and things like that at Southmouth. Some of the masters at the local boys schools are not bad either and desperate(!) for female company.

“I am writing because there is a vacancy for a gym mistress to assist me and I thought it might be rather a jape if we teamed up. Get in touch if you are getting a bit bored with hospital life. Tons of love, Penny.”

Of course, Penny is rather free but I like the idea of working with young people. Perhaps I might meet some clean-limbed young schoolmaster. I believe they are very dedicated. I am still thinking about the possibilities when the lift doors open.

There, all by himself in a wheelchair, is Mr Arkwright. “I gave my gaoler the slip,” he says evilly. “Now, how about that game of ‘Naughty Nanas’?”

He jabs at the “basement” button and clutches at my leg. Something inside me snaps. I am tired of being pushed around by dirty old men of all ages. The time has come to take a leaf out of Penny’s book.

“I prefer ‘Furry Quoits’, “ I say.

“What’s that?” There is a nervous flutter in the old wart hog’s voice.

“Whip out your peg and I’ll show you.”

“Get away from me!” Arkwright cowers in his wheelchair.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” I lift my skirt and give him a flash of the full frontals.

“No! No!”

“Scared of this!” Down come my panties.

The lift doors slide open and there is Sister Belter. Her eyes widen in horror as she takes in the hideous scene: the crumpled heap in the wheel chair; me, skirt up, knickers down.

“ I have this thing about older men,” I explain.

THE END