Taking care of Clare

As she left the hospice she sprayed the alcohol gel onto her hands to prevent infection, as she had done at least a dozen times that day already. She walked out into the cold night air and took a deep breath. The freezing temperature had turned the pavement into a sheen of slippery ice but she welcomed the frigid atmosphere after the almost unbearable heat of the building in which she had sat beside her mother’s bed all day. Taking another deep breath to try and rid her nostrils of the stale smell of human bodies and sickness that permeated the place. As much as she tried the smell was now a part of her. Even after bathing it seemed to ooze from her skin, reminding her constantly wherever she was that this was firmly a part of her life.

She slid and skidded her way towards the car and sighed as she saw she would have to scrape a layer of ice from her windscreen. A volunteer from the hospice walked by and nodded good night as she worked at the window. Once inside she set the heaters to high and started the engine. Putting the gears into reverse she made her way quickly from the car park and onto the main road towards home. The headlights of the oncoming vehicles made her squint and realise just how tired her eyes felt. She had a half hour journey at the end of which she would be met by her children and partner. She would paint a smile on her face and feign interest in their days. She loved them but right at this moment she wanted nothing more than to go to an empty house, lay down and not to have to speak to another soul for a long time. In frustration she switched on the radio. Music blared out and she immediately switched to a talk channel deciding the frivolity of pop was not for her, not tonight. The documentary on Radio 4 was about country produce.

The voices droned in the background but she did not listen to what was being said. Her thoughts began to wander. Flitting from subject to subject unable to settle. As she got closer to home she felt the familiar quickening in her chest, her breath becoming shallow, sweat on her forehead. ‘Not now’ she thought,’ not tonight’. She knew the anxiety attack was inevitable once it began. She signalled to the other traffic that she was pulling over and turned into a side street. She gripped the steering wheel and gasped for air as the feeling of suffocation enveloped her. She began to shake, perspiration soaking her shirt. She felt the tears come. Tears of anger, frustration and most of all fear. Fear of this attack and the surity of the next. Fear that she could not face tomorrow. Fear, fear, fear. Through the fog of the anxiety she tried to calm herself, slowing her breath, feeling her feet on the floor beneath her. Talking to herself ‘You are OK, you are OK.’ She sensed a number of people walking past the car. None stopped to notice the woman inside. None knew the desperation she felt. Watching a young woman pass. Her red coat, even in the darkness, seemed so bright. The sound of her heels on the pavement exceptionally clear. Clare had noticed this before. How every sight and sound seemed intensified by her anxious state. She wished she could capture the clarity but it was gone so quickly as if it hadn’t happened at all. The attack finally over she felt chilled with the dampness of her clothes. She knew she couldn’t face home. ‘Sheila’s ‘she thought ‘I need to go to Sheila’.

She took her mobile phone from her bag and dialled her home number. Her eldest son answered the phone. ‘Hey it’s mum, where is momma? What are you guys up to?’ as usual Dean was not in the mood to indulge in conversation ‘She went to the shop. There’s no milk.’ Clare closed her eyes and put her head back on the seat rest. Right she had been meant to go shopping before she left for the hospice but yet again had forgotten. ‘OK. Tell her I stopped off at Sheila’s house will you and I will call later? You make sure you get that essay finished remember it is due tomorrow?’ Dean barely grunted before he put down the phone ‘Love you’ Clare announced to the empty air. She threw her phone onto the seat beside her and pulled back onto the road.

Coffee with Sheila would at least give her time to get herself together before she went home. Sheila had been her science teacher when she had been in high school. A formidable disciplinarian and excellent academic Clare had loved her classes. She was an average student but had made good grades in Science partly through her natural interest in the subject and partly through the adoration she developed for her teacher. As the only girl in her class to take science to a higher level, Sheila had encouraged Clare and gradually they had found a bond with each other. Sheila took a special interest in Clare’s studies, often being pretty harsh with her when she felt she wasn’t trying hard enough or her work could be better. When Clare left to go on to University it has seemed natural to them both for their friendship to continue. Now over 20 years later Clare could not imagine life without her.

She pulled her car up in front of Sheila’s drive way 20 minutes later. She was relieved to see the light on in the front room and Sheila’s small hatch back parked in front of her garage. She rarely went out in the dark evenings but Clare knew that she was often asked to help out at the adult education centre and that sometimes meant working the odd night class. Grabbing her bag Clare walked up to the front door and rang the bell. It was opened promptly and Sheila looked only slightly surprised to see Clare standing before her. ‘Hello my darling how was she today?’ she smiled opening her arms for a quick hug as Clare stepped into the warm hallway. Sheila was almost 6 foot tall and had an athletic build. She had been a keen sportswoman until a knee injury had curbed her activities but she still swam regularly and ate well. Her short blonde hair now had streaks of grey around the ears and there were some wrinkles appearing around her eyes but she had an attractive face and when she smiled it made Clare happy to just be with her. Clare’s smaller 5 foot 6 slightly stocky frame fit well into Sheila’s hug. She welcomed the woman’s embrace and the warmth of her home. ‘Ah, you know. Much the same really.’

Clare pulled her straggly long dark hair behind her and took off her black winter coat, throwing it over the end of the stair rail. She followed Sheila into the kitchen. There was meat roasting in the oven and Clare suddenly realised she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink since early that morning. She found trying to eat in the hospice made her feel slightly nauseous. She pulled out a wooden chair from under the kitchen table and sat down heavily. ‘Have you eaten?’ Sheila asked, although she could tell from Clare’s drawn face that it was unlikely. Not wanting to admit to a complete dereliction of self care, Clare shrugged and said ‘Earlier, but I could eat something now.’ ‘Hmm. Interpretation of that is you ate sometime in the last 24 hours but not necessarily today? Right?’ Sheila asked with raised eyebrows. Clare blushed a little ‘Well….maybe. How do you always know that stuff?’ Sheila kissed the top of Clare’s head ‘Because my dear I know you so well. You used to get the exact same look if I asked if you had done your home work when you hadn’t!’ she pretended to scold. Clare laughed ‘When did I ever not do my homework for you? You were way too scary!’ ‘Oh I remember a couple of times when you tried to get one past me. The day you had been to the netball tournament and conveniently ‘forgot’ you had an essay and a test with me that week. As I recall you tried to blame that on the school coach breaking down and you not getting home until the early hours. When the truth was you had gone over to Judith Kellerman’s with the rest of the team for pizza and goodness only knows what else.’ Sheila looked at Clare with her arms folded, her head to one side daring Clare to deny it. ‘Oh yeah’ Clare blushed for the second time that evening ‘I’d forgotten that’ ‘Ha. I’d have thought the slippering I gave you the day after would have had you remember for a while!’ She pointed at Clare and then smiled before she turned towards the stove to check on the roast.

Satisfied that all was well inside the oven, Sheila made tea and put a mug down for each of them before pulling out another chair and sitting beside Clare. ‘So my dear girl, how are you coping? If you don’t mind me saying you look like hell. Have you been taking care of yourself?’ she asked reaching out for Clare’s hand and patting it before resting her own on top. Clare looked at her friend and mentor. The one constant in her life, the one she could turn to and lean on. The one with whom Clare could still feel like a child and about to be scolded for late homework. The woman she loved with all her heart because with her she felt safe and taken care of in a way only a parental figure could make you feel. She didn’t know what to say to her, where to start. How did she tell her about the fear, about how she couldn’t sleep at night? How she rarely thought of eating. How the only emotion she had towards her family was tinged with guilt and feelings of inadequacy. How did she tell her? As she looked at Sheila’s face she saw the love and care and knew she was asking not from politeness or social nicety but because she wanted to know. She wanted Clare to share her life with her. She demanded it with her eyes, with her love with the relationship they had nurtured over so many years. And so she began.

The words tumbled from her mouth. Her fears. Her love for her family and her darling wife, Jay, who unerringly stood beside her, whatever life threw at them. Who took care of her and the family without question. The wife whom Clare felt unable to show her love to, she was just too tired and felt too empty. She told how she just didn’t feel good enough. Not up to the job of taking care of her mother. Her inadequacy as a daughter, mother, partner and friend. How professionally she was failing. Not giving her students the kind of time and effort that Sheila had given her. The torrent went on for more than an hour. Sheila sat and nodded. She stood and removed the roast from the oven. Adding vegetables to the steamer. She made more tea and she listened. She heard every word and watched as Clare verbally beat herself to exhaustion. When she had finished Clare looked at Sheila expecting her to say something and was shocked when all she said whilst patting her hand was ‘I think we will eat now. You need to eat.’ Clare merely nodded, confused at her lack of comment.

Sheila placed a steaming dinner in front of Clare. In a companiable silence the two ate. Clare realising how hungry she was cleared her plate quickly. When Sheila had finished, Clare rose and cleared the dishes, filling the dish washer with the debris from the evening meal. ‘Let us go through to the sitting room and be a little more comfortable’ Sheila said as she walked from the kitchen. Clare followed her into the tastefully furnished room. Bookshelves lined one wall. An overstuffed sofa was placed on the wall opposite the glass doors which lead into the garden. In the summer months it was pleasant to sit there in the evening and watch the dying sun and the bird life in the trees beyond. On this winter evening when darkness had already fallen, Sheila pulled thick curtains over the windows lending a cosy atmosphere to the room. Clare sank into the sofa with a sigh. Sheila turned to look at her. The girl she thought of like a daughter. For so many years she had watched her mature, seen her make a success of her life, achieving academically and perhaps more importantly watched her struggle with her sexuality and eventually meet a wonderful partner and build a home together and have a child. She loved her, unconditionally but she would never develop the patience to tolerate Clare’s high expectations of herself which often lead to self destructive thinking and behaviour. She had punished her more than once over the years and she felt strongly that this night was going to end in a similar way.

‘Clare’ Sheila looked at her young friend sternly, ‘I listened to all you said earlier and I know how hard things are for you at the moment. I also know how hard you are trying to please everyone and in the process not taking care of yourself.’ Clare began to respond ‘I am taking care of myself….’ Sheila held up her hand to stop her continuing. ‘Clare please do not tell me you are taking care of yourself when you turn up on my doorstop looking like you do! I know you well enough to know that as soon as you have a crisis the first thing you do is neglect yourself. But much worse than that is that you are so hard on yourself you make yourself ill. It has happened before and I am sure as heck not going to sit here while you do it again.’ Sheila towered above Clare who was slowly sinking deeper into the sofa as she was scolded. ‘OK Sheila. I get it. I am not doing well enough for you either. I need to do better and take care of myself as well as take care of everyone else!’ Clare raised her voice as she tried to argue her point. Sheila raised her eyebrows and said quietly ‘I don’t think you are listening to what I am saying Clare and since when has it been OK to use that tone with me young lady?’ Clare swallowed. It had been a long time since Sheila had used her old school teacher tone with her and it still had the power to make her stomach drop and reduce her to a nervous teenager. ‘Sorry’ she muttered. ‘I should think so. It is obvious you are not listening or understanding what I am saying to you. You are intent on punishing yourself and not acknowledging you need help. So I am going to help you and I am going to punish you for hurting yourself. Do you understand?’ Sheila stood with her arms folded across her chest, daring Clare to argue. ‘But… what? I mean..why? Sheila..I am just tired. I will do better. I’m too old to be treated like a child!’ Clare started to rise from the sofa, protesting as she moved. Sheila quickly took the two small steps which brought her directly in front of Clare. She reached out and with her right hand she grabbed Clare’s ear. Pulling her firmly with her as she walked to the door of the sitting room. ‘No more talking young lady. You are getting a spanking tonight so you may as well accept your fate.’

Sheila escorted her charge down the hall way and up the stairs. Clare had been in this position only a couple of times before and although it was a long time ago she knew that protesting was a futile exercise only likely to end in a harder spanking. On the other hand she could not believe that at her age she was about to get punished like a naughty school girl. Was Sheila losing her mind! Her ear was beginning to burn as they made their way upstairs and across the landing to the guest bedroom that Clare had used many times over the years. Sheila led her to the far corner furthest away from the window and placed her there facing the wall. ‘Clare. I want you to stand there and wait for me. Do not move until I tell you to. Do you understand?’ Sheila’s voice was hard and left no room for doubt that she was serious. Clare nodded while her mind raced trying to figure a way out of this position. ‘Don’t nod at me young lady. Answer me clearly!’ Sheila scolded ‘Yes ma’am I understand’ Clare spoke, her voice wavering slightly. ‘While you are there I want you to think about how hard you are trying to take care of the people in your life. How much you love them and how there is nothing more you could possibly give of yourself. How much I love you and will take care of you. You are not on your own.’ Sheila left the room leaving Clare to ponder her fate.

Clare hated standing in the corner. It had been a punishment often used at her school. Although in general she had been a good child, rarely in trouble, she had seemed to manage to be more mischievous in Sheila’s class than any other. As she grew older she began to understand that this was because she felt safe enough with Sheila not to have to be perfect for her still to be loved. She could be flawed, could be a little naughty and be punished and still know that she wouldn’t be rejected. She was free to be herself, child and all and it was a relationship she had with no one else. It meant so much to her but also meant that sometimes she would end up in a position like this. Clare heard the door open and movement behind her. ‘OK Clare come over here please.’ She turned to find Sheila sitting on the bed. Next to her lay a thick wooden ruler that Clare remembered from her last spanking. Clare closed her eyes for a moment, still not believing the position in which she found herself.

‘Sheila this really isn’t necessary!’ she tried, her voice lacking conviction as she knew she was guilty of neglecting herself and driving herself to exhaustion and she wanted to be taken care of, wanted Sheila to take control. Ignoring her plea, Sheila patted her lap. ‘Over here please. Get those pants down and make yourself comfortable, I think this may take a while.’ Clare moved over to stand by Sheila. She unbuttoned her trousers and sliding her fingers round the waist band she pushed those and her pants down to her knees. Feeling he face redden as Sheila reached for her and pulled her across her lap. Clare wiggled into position. Her upper body supported by the bed. She put her arms in front of her and buried her head between them. ‘Now Clare, why are you about to get a hard spanking from me?’ Sheila asked her voice carrying with it all of the authority of her 30 year teaching career. ‘Because I haven’t been taking care of myself miss.’ Clare murmured into the bed cover. ‘Speak up Clare. I can’t abide mumbling as you well know.’ Slapping Clare hard on her bottom to emphasise her displeasure. ‘Ow!’ Clare shouted clearly ‘Much clearer’ Sheila said with satisfaction. With that she began to spank Clare hard and fast with her hand. Alternating cheeks, working her way up and down both cheeks, paying special attention to where her cheeks met her thighs and then working her way down both thighs to Clare’s knees. Clare began by lying as quietly and still as she could but as the heat began to build and the sting increased she began to squirm and utter ‘ow’ and ‘ouch’ each time a smack landed. She had no idea how much time had passed but her bottom began to feel as if it was on fire.

After what must have been several minutes Sheila stopped spanking ‘Clare, tell me again why are you getting your bottom smacked?’ The use of the childish phrase made Clare cringe, hell she thought I am too old for this! Out loud she said ‘Because I haven’t been taking care of myself and I have been too hard on myself trying to be perfect.’ ‘And do you deserve to be punished like this?’ Sheila continued ‘Yyyyes miss I suppose so.’ Clare managed the humiliation of her position competing with the stinging of her rear. ‘You certainly do.’ Sheila confirmed as she picked up the wooden ruler. She raised it high into the air and brought it down so hard on Clare’s bottom that it made the younger woman jump and yelp. Sheila let the sting register before raising it again and bringing it down with equal force onto the opposite cheek. Again and again she applied strokes of the ruler up and down her bottom and across her crimson thighs. Clare was shouting out regularly now and tears of pain sprang to her eyes, although she did not let them fall. When Sheila was satisfied that she had a well punished girl across her lap she put the ruler down.

She spoke gently to Clare who was breathing heavily but not yet crying. ‘Clare you are like a daughter to me. I love you and I am here to take care of you. You need to let go and allow that to happen. You cannot do all of this alone. You need to lean on someone and I am here for you as I always have been. Just because you are older now that hasn’t changed.’ Clare nodded her face still between her arms and buried into the sheets. ‘You are a good girl my sweetheart. You have a good heart and you always try your best to help others. You just don’t do a very good job of taking care of yourself but I am going to make sure you do from now on.’ Clare mumbled into the sheets yet again sounding petulant. Sheila asked her to repeat herself ‘What was that?’ Clare turned her head and said clearly ‘But I DO need to do better. I’m a mess. I always fall apart when everyone else around me copes much better than I do. I’m totally useless!’ Sheila sighed ‘I see that you haven’t learned this evening’s lesson at all have you?’ ‘You can’t MAKE me believe that I am OK if I don’t think it is true! I know how I am doing YOU don’t!’ Despite her burning bottom, Clare could not help herself, she suddenly felt very angry and needed to take it out on someone. ‘I see.’ Sheila sat quietly for a moment whilst Clare fumed over her lap. ‘OK, up you get and go back over to the corner please. I didn’t want to do this but I have no choice. Your behaviour and attitude are atrocious and I will not stand for it.’ Sheila spoke sternly and helped Clare off her knee and moved her back into the corner with her nose against the wall. Clare stumbled over her trousers and panties which were now around her ankles. ‘You might as well kick those off, you won’t need them’ Sheila said as she held Clare firmly by the arm. Clare angrily kicked off her clothing and stood in the corner with her nose pressed against the wall. ‘Put your hands on your head while you wait for me. This could have been the end of your punishment but as you insist on behaving badly with me tonight I am going to make you a very sorry young lady.’

Clare heard Sheila leave the room. Once alone in the corner Clare began to calm down a little. She wiggled her hips trying to ease the pain in her bottom. All of a sudden she felt her senses return to her and she began to panic. She had never tested Sheila like this before either as a child or an adult. She had no idea what would happen and she began to get very nervous. At school Sheila had a reputation for being a very strict teacher and more than one pupil would regularly leave her office rubbing their backsides. She was hated by many because of how tough she could be but it was true that Sheila’s classes were the best behaved and achieved the best grades out of the entire science department. Modern schools were not allowed to employ Sheila’s methods of discipline but Clare often wondered how many kids really benefited from that lack of certain structure and consequence. These thoughts were not of concern to Clare right now though. All she could think of was how silly she had been to goad Clare. Her anger had been too much for her to control though. Sheila came back into the room without speaking. Clare heard something large being moved behind her, she resisted the urge to turn and look but soon enough Sheila spoke out, ‘Right Clare Louise Jacobs you come over here now please.’ At the sound of her full name Clare felt her legs wobble. She wanted out of here and now!

She turned slowly and the first thing she noticed was that Sheila had placed a wooden chair in the centre of the room. The next thing she noticed made her catch her breath and say out loud ‘No!’ In her hand Sheila held the crook handled cane that had hung in her office for many years. Clare had rarely heard of anyone being unlucky enough to feel it on their bottoms but it had been a thing of legend amongst her peers. ‘Please Sheila. I didn’t mean it. I will do better! I’m sorry!’ Clare desperately pleaded. Sheila showed no emotion as she directed Clare to the chair. ‘I want you bent over that chair now and I don’t want to hear another word until I am finished with you. Move NOW!’ Clare moved quickly a sob catching in her throat as she placed herself over the back of the chair and held on to the seat until her knuckles were white. ‘I am going to give you 12 strokes of the cane. You will hold still. If you move I will add another stroke. Do you understand?’ ‘Yes miss, I understand’ Clare spoke quietly but clearly. She closed her eyes and waited for the first stroke to land. She felt the cool rattan against her skin and then felt it move and heard the swish through the air before it landed across her bottom.

For a fraction of a second Clare did not feel anything and then it felt like a rod of fire had been placed on her backside. The initial pain began to give way to a deeper more intense burning which she was trying to process but she heard the next swish and the second stroke land. It fell just below the first and Clare took in a sharp breath before she cried out in pain. Her already sore bottom was receiving the worst corporal punishment of her life. The third, fourth and fifth strokes landed with equal vigour. Falling in parallel lines all the way down her fiery behind. Tears began to form in Clare’s eyes and there was no way she could hold them back this time. ‘I love you Clare. You are a good person. I will take care of you. You will not hurt yourself anymore’ Sheila spoke quietly as she lifted the cane and landed another hard stroke. ‘I will always be here for you. You can lean on me and rely on me’ another stroke landed, this time at the top of Clare’s thighs making the girl sob out loud. ‘That’s it my dear girl, let it all out’ another line of fire hit her thighs as Sheila worked methodically. Despite her reputation she had not had cause to cane many of her students. She had often delivered a spanking with a ruler or a slipper but the cane had been more of a deterrent than a tool that saw regular use. However, she was practiced in its use and knew how to use it to best effect.

Clare was now openly sobbing. ‘I’m sorry Sheila. I won’t speak to you like that again and I will take better care of myself, I promise. Please stop now!’ Sheila was very tempted to end the punishment and take Clare into her arms but she didn’t want to have to do this again anytime soon and she knew that it was better for both of them if she delivered the punishment she had announced. However, she did not want to drag it out so proceeded to administer the remaining strokes in quick succession. Landing the last two in the crease between her bottom and her thighs. ‘Ok Clare you can get up’ with that release Clare shot up and put her hands to her very well punished bottom. She began to rub and then realised than was making it worse. She hopped about the room trying to find relief from the hell she was feeling but there was none to be found. Tears streamed down her cheeks. When she looked at Sheila she saw her friend and mentor standing watching her with a face full of love and compassion, she held out her arms to Clare and without hesitation Clare flung herself into the embrace. Her body was wracked with heart wrenching sobs, tears streaming down her face and soaking Sheila’s blouse. She clung on to Sheila as if her life depended on it and buried her face into her breast. Sheila held on as tightly as she could. Stroking her hair and making soothing noises. Relieved at last that her girl was letting go of some of her pain. Allowing herself to be vulnerable and to be taken care of. She knew that there was still a long journey ahead before Clare healed and accepted herself but Sheila made a silent promise that she, and if necessary her cane, would be there with her every step of the way….