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Jane points to the couch. “Lay down on your stomach. I’m going to ice those bruises.”
Storm does as she is told, visibly trembling from cold and emotion. She is quiet as Jane takes ice packs, wraps them and puts them over the worst of the marks in an attempt to bring some of the swelling down.
Laura has not said a word throughout, but she has followed them in and closed the door to keep the worst of the night air out.
“Frau Lotte is trustworthy, is she?” Jane says, looking up at Laura, shifting the packs slightly. Storm flinches and bites back a whimper. None of this is good.
Laura frowns. “I have not seen this kind of punishment from her before. It seems excessive.”
“Yes. It does. A reminder stroke across the legs to gain compliance is one thing, but this is… this is brutality. It is not discipline. It is malevolence.”
“You are upset,” Laura observes.
“You could say that.” Jane’s tone contains worlds of understated sarcasm.
“Should we ascertain why and how this happened? Or should we assume the headmistress of an elite private finishing school is an unhinged woman who beats girls for no reason?” Laura is calm.
“Every time I talk someone beats me,” Storm sniffs.
“That might have something to do with the things you say when you talk,” Laura rejoins.
“Maybe,” Storm acknowledges.
“What did you say to Frau Lotte?” Laura asks the question firmly, looking not at Storm, but at Jane.
Storm, to her credit, makes a full and ample confession. “I called her a mean old witch or something, I don’t know. She was trying to cane me, but I wouldn’t let her, and she kept hitting me and telling me to get into position and I kept not doing that…”
“Disobedience, insubordination, disrespect…” Laura counts the sins off on her fingers. “And you have a few bruises to show for it. I see no harm done here.”
Storm takes a little sobbing breath.
“I think I’d best attend to this situation,” Jane says, her tone cooling. “Thank you for your company this evening.”
She does not get up and show Laura the door physically, but her words perform that action admirably. Laura nods and departs without further comment or argument. There is silence in her absence, and a feeling of loss that Jane does not enjoy. It was a lovely evening that has now rather soured.
“Sorry I ruined your date,” Storm mumbles after a few minutes.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Jane says, her demeanor entirely professional. Perhaps a little too professional.
“Sure, you were probably going to get laid with the hot Swiss lady and now…”
“That’s enough of that kind of talk,” Jane says firmly. “You are going to have that ice on a little longer, and then you are going to go back to your room and go to bed. We will discuss…”
A tap at the door interrupts the conversation.
It is Laura again. She lets herself in, and this time, she comes with instructions.
“Frau Lotte would like me to bring Storm back to her office.”
“I’m not going there!” Storm refuses immediately.
It is hard to believe that they were having a lovely dinner not an hour ago, and now Jane finds herself pitted against Laura, who seems to have chosen to act as the headmistress’ personal enforcer.
“I don’t think that’s appropriate this evening. I would prefer to take her back to her room once she’s been iced a few more times. She has enough bruises for one night.”
“It is not up to you, Frau Strict,” Laura says.
Jane’s eyes narrow a fraction, as do Laura’s. There is a silent battle of wills, in which neither side is clearly willing to give in. In the end, Jane decides she does not mind going to see Frau Lotte. She has a few choice words for the woman.
