That summer, our family—Mother, Father, myself, my younger sister, and my two younger brothers—journeyed to Scotland to visit my grandmother, my father’s mother.
We travelled to Scotland in July and remained for the month with Grandmother. I confess, I was not entirely pleased to forgo a summer with my friends, especially as I had grown fond of a certain boy. My mood was often less than cheerful, and Mother warned me more than once that my attitude was in need of correction.
By some effort, I managed to improve my behaviour just enough to avoid punishment, and I returned from the trip without a single spanking—save for one memorable occasion during a visit to our cousins in London.
In the second week, we took a long train journey to London to visit my father’s cousin, a distinguished diplomat then serving at the Canadian embassy.
He and his wife had two children—Lisa, a few months my senior, and Stephen, who was younger. After weeks at Grandmother’s with no companions my own age, I was delighted to spend time with Lisa. We spoke of music, school, and other innocent topics.
The highlight of our visit was a matinee performance of Phantom of the Opera. Lisa’s father procured tickets, and after much discussion, we were permitted to attend without our parents, provided we took my younger sister and cared for her.
We agreed readily, and on the appointed day, set off for the theatre. Mother was hesitant, but Lisa’s mother assured her that Lisa was quite capable of navigating the city.
The journey to the theatre required two bus rides and took nearly an hour. The performance was splendid, and afterwards, we stopped at a restaurant for a meal.
When we finished, Lisa urged us to hurry for the bus home. In our haste, we became separated. Each of us believed my sister was with the other, but after several stops, we realised with horror that we had left her behind.
In a state of panic, we alighted at the next stop and took another bus back. We searched frantically until, at last, my sister emerged from a shop, waving to us.
In those days, there were no mobile telephones. My sister had no money and did not know our cousins’ telephone number. She had entered the shop in tears, and the kind shopkeepers were about to call the police when she saw us.
We caught another bus and made our transfer, but arrived home much later than expected. Our mothers were waiting, anxious and stern. My sister burst into tears and recounted her ordeal, describing how frightened she had been.
The mothers’ concern swiftly turned to anger at Lisa and me for our carelessness. Lisa’s mother was especially cross that Lisa had not telephoned. After comforting my sister and sending her to watch television, they turned their attention to us.
“We shall continue this discussion upstairs,” said Lisa’s mother. I saw a look of dread on Lisa’s face, for I knew her parents believed in strict discipline. Her father used a belt, and her mother a wooden spoon or a leather slipper.
We climbed the stairs to the master bedroom, our mothers following. Lisa’s mother entered the closet and returned with two sturdy men’s slippers, each with a thick rubber sole. Lisa’s face paled at the sight.
Unlike at home, there was little ceremony. Lisa’s mother sat on a hassock, and my mother drew up a chair to the centre of the room.
Lisa and I wore dress shorts and blouses, our shoes removed but socks still on.
Lisas Mother gave us a ‘proper telling off’, citing how irresponsible we had been, how much they had worried us and compounded our misjudgments by not calling them. She had been raised in Canada by upper middle class English parents and came across as very formal and matriarchal.
As she upbraided us, my Mother would occasionally interject with her own admonishments, including how she only agreed to let us go because she thought I could be trusted to watch my sister. By the standards at my own house, this was an exceptionally lengthy lecture. It probably went on for 10 minutes – an excruciatingly long time to be standing on full display.
Finally, the lecture wrapped up and with a signal of slipper pointing to laps, we each bent over our respective Mothers’ knees. They way they were angled, our heads were only a couple of feet apart and we could look up and see the face of the other naughty girl.
Again, Lisa’s Mother took the lead and began vigorously applying the rubber slipper to Lisa’s upturned bottom. My Mother followed suit and soon the room was filled with the sounds of a slipper smacking our bottoms.
I noticed that Lisa’s Mother did not make her count swats and in a break from our usual protocol, Mother didn’t make me count either. She also did not spank in her usual group of 12 swats. I don’t know how many I got, but she painted every inch of my bottom, top and bottom, and the tops of my thighs with the slipper.
I could see Lisa’s legs occasionally scissor-kick and I know I was squirming and bucking myself toward the end, letting out the occasional yelp as the slipper met the tops of my thighs. I am not sure of the duration, but it was probably a good sound three minutes we spent over our Mothers’ knees and it was one of the lengthiest spankings I remember getting.
When we were finally told we could stand up, we each hopped up and down and rubbed our sizzling behinds, no longer concerned about modesty or embarrassment. When we had calmed down some, my Mother took the lead, pointed to an empty corner and told me to go park my nose in it.
Lisa’s Mother said: “I think that is an excellent idea – you can think about what you should have done.” She dispatched Lisa to a space between her vanity and dresser.
I’m not sure how long our exile lasted but eventually my Mother came back up and told us to get dressed and get down for dinner. The only saving grace is that my brothers and Lisa’s brother were out with their dads and didn’t know what had happened. We also had to apologise to my sis, who seemed to take glee in the comeuppance we had received.
