My ears pricked wandering past a gaggle of gossipers in the office first thing this morning, as one of the ladies commented, “He kept giving me that Headmaster look all day. You know?”
No, I don’t: care to enlighten me? Is that the “I’ve seen what you’re doing” look? The “I’ll deal with you later” look? The “I understand I’ll be seeing you in my office at lunchtime”, or the “Ah, there you are”?
The “Feigned surprise at the severity of your misdeeds”, the “I’m disappointed in you”, the “You’d better not argue with me?” Or the “I’m now going to hurt you” or the “I wonder how you’re going to take this?” or the “Averting my eyes, up to a point” as the girl adjusts her uniform for punishment?
Perhaps it was the unseen look: from behind, the girl bent over, feeling his eyes on her. The concentration as he measured the cane, the smile of satisfaction at the quality of his ever-so-precise handiwork?
Or the “I wonder if that got through to her”, the “I know you’re not really a bad girl” – and the genuine, re-assuring “I hope this is our last such encounter” combined with the “Intrigued as to whether you will ever be back for more”.
Perhaps I should go over and ask her for clarification?