I’m sitting here in my office. Mr. White, to you. Haron, or should I say Miss Faraday, is along the corridor in the spare bedroom – or, should I say, the punishment room. As her Housemaster,I’m in suit and tie; she’s immaculate in school uniform.

After serving a detention last Sunday for failing to hand in her homework, the foolish girl has apparently repeated the offence. So it’s back to the punishment room for a second consecutive weekend, with a textbook (carefully chosen for its dullness) to be copied word for word for twenty minutes. Minimum. I’ve confiscated her watch, lest she be tempted to keep too close an eye on the time.

At the end of detention, I shall be discussing her insolent attitude at the start of her punishment: she’ll be punished with a hand spanking, befitting such childish behaviour. And then, of course, I shall teach Miss Faraday a lesson in a way that will prevent her reappearing for a third weekend in succession, with a short, sharp taste of the rattan.

Oh, how I love playing scenes. I’d better head back along the corridor to check up on the girl again.