Community Service Ch. 07

Right off, CSOs Karen and Linda started doing that, shoe-playing thing, that they always seemed so wont to do.

And now, albeit not from deliberate goading, but just absentmindedly, my two supervisors were showing me the soles of their socked feet, too. Showing me, the current state of their CSO uniform yellow cotton ankle socks.

Socks that, sooner or later, kneeling on the hard stone floor over a deep plastic laundry tub (for non-white socks) full of them, I would find myself using liberal amounts of industrial-strength detergent, and copious amounts of elbow grease, in trying to hand-wash clean.

Addressing Norma Newlove, CSO Karen, slipping out her left, yellow cotton ankle-socked foot to rest the pads of her toes upon the heel of her backless, clog-like shoe, said, "Mrs Newlove, we've just had a phone call from Ms Harmman."

"Oh, yes ...?" said Norma.

"Yes. She offered CSO Linda and me a spot of overtime ... tomorrow afternoon."

"What?" said Norma, her interest quickening. "Tomorrow afternoon?"

Smiling, CSO Karen told Norma, "For less than half an hour's work, we will be paid for a full day - at triple-time pay. Naturally, we've accepted."

Oh, no! I thought, miserably. I knew what this meant.

Norma said, "Does this mean, CSO Karen, that ..."

CSO Linda, slipping out her right, yellow cotton ankle-socked foot to rest the tops of her toes upon the heel of her backless, clog-like shoe - thereby absentmindedly displaying to me her entire yellow ankle-socked sole - answered, "Yes, Mrs Newlove, it does ... We are going to be the two-CSO punishment-detail, to publicly administer the Standard Six chastisement caning, to Tina Marshall.

Hell! I thought.

"Good!" Norma whooped for joy. "Good! I'm glad!" she said, her unspeakable pleasure, articulately expressed in the sudden luxuriating scrunching and flexing of her white-socked toes. "Because now I know, that Burger Girl will be sorry she crossed me!"

"Oh, Mrs Newlove," said CSO Karen, switching over now, and casually resting the tops of the toes of her right foot upon the heel of her right, clog-like shoe, showing me the full length of her in-need-of-a-wash yellow ankle-socked sole. "You can certainly be assured of that!"

CSO Linda, also switching over, now, and absentmindedly showing me the entire yellow cotton ankled-socked sole of her left foot; the creases and folds of the thin, damp-looking, now mustard-yellow, fabric, almost black-edged from her mingled foot sweat and workaday grime, said succinctly, but meaningfully, "That's right!"

CSO Karen went on, "To be honest, Mrs Newlove, at first, I felt a bit sorry for Tina Marshall. It was a very brave thing she did, coming alone into the Sock Room to confront you. But, through her activities since then, she has forfeited any sympathy that I might have had for her."

CSO Linda elucidated. "Reports have reached us, via Ms Harmman, that on Tuesday, and then again on Thursday, Tina Marshall was among unruly mobs protesting in the streets with placards and banners. They were decrying Prime Minister Caroline Flynt, and demanding the Authoritarian Female Party's immediate removal from government."

CSO Karen added, "Tina's Burger Heaven counter-assistant work colleague and friend, Janice Middleton, another dissident, accompanied her. They are now under surveillance. A very close eye is being kept, on both of them."

What, the? I thought, dismayed. Tina hadn't told me any of this!

"Well, the little ... ungrateful bitch!" said the outraged Gina Stainham. "After all the AFP have done for her!"

"Yes!" agreed Cheryl Chubb hotly. "What more, can she possibly want?"

"It beats me!" said another of the reclining Sock Room attending females, vehemently. "She and her other dissident friend must be out of their minds. We've never had it so good, since the AFP won the General Election, and Caroline Flynt and her Cabinet began introducing their female-friendly laws. We've been living in a Utopia! At last, it is us, who have the whip hand. Us females!"

"Ah," said CSO Linda. "But Tina Marshall doesn't like things the way they are now. Tina's not happy with the AFP's new societal rebalancing measures. Tina's not happy, with the introductions of all of our new female-friendly projects and institutions. She wants to go back to the way things were before - back to male-female equality. She doesn't think that we females should all be living on Easy Street: not having to work for a living anymore, if we don't want to, and having all of our new lifestyle benefits, privileges and easements, to the direct detriment of our menfolk. Above all, she wants these Sock Rooms closed down immediately, and permanently."

Norma Newlove said, "What's wrong with the girl? Is she mad? Burger Girl needs bringing back to her senses!" Pointing and jabbing an angry, accusatory finger at me, Norma said, "It's all because she's gone soft on him - Community servant David double-oh-seven!"

"Well," said CSO Karen, "Tina had better come back to her senses soon. Ms Harmman has warned her and her friend Janice twice now that they are both heading for trouble. Ms Harmman says, if Tina Marshall and Janice Middleton carry on the way they are, she'll be left with no option but to enrol both of them into one of the AFP's rehabilitation programmes, at Greystone Prison."

"Greystone Prison: isn't that a male prison; that awful place, down near Brighton?" asked another of the reclining sock-changing females, her apparent schadenfreude, expressively manifested in the scrunching and wiggling and flexing of her white-socked toes. "Where the Governor and all of the prison officers are female - and most of them, man-hating bitches? And they are known as the Jailhouse Blues?"

CSO Karen said, solemnly, "Yes ... that's the place."

* * *

Saturday, 1:45 pm.

I was shocked, at the size of the crowd.

Shocked, and horrified.

High Street, was packed. Thronged, with the excitedly expectant multitudes of Canford townfolk.

Even worse - much worse - was that the media were here.

And they were here in strength: not just the local newspaper reporters and TV journalists, but radio and TV journalists from outside London, and even from regions further afield, too.

Suddenly, among the gathered crowd there was a frisson of excitement, a thrilled hubbub of anticipation.

Standing on tiptoe, over the heads of the crowd, I could see Tina - the heaven, of Burger Heaven - her wrists, handcuffed in front of her, being escorted down High Street towards the five sets of stocks by CSOs Karen and Linda. Accompanying them, was the Community Service Liaison Officer and local AFP official, Ms Harriet Harmman.

Leading the small party, Ms Harriet Harmman's charismatic presence was like an aura.

Everyone in the gathered crowd, seemed to sense it; seemed to feel it. It would not be overstating it, or in any way flattering her, to say that Ms Harmman was enthralling. Or perhaps 'charming' would be a better word.

This natural ability, to so effortlessly enthral: to command attention, respect - even to awe - was a common AFP characteristic.

This inherent, enthralling (or charming) commonality, was not only shared by Prime Minister Caroline Flynt and her Cabinet Ministers but also by many of the lower echelon, local Authoritarian Female Party representatives - such as Ms Harriet Harmman: the AFP MP for Canford, south London.

As I had experienced for myself, two weeks ago, when CSOs Karen and Linda had picked me up at home in their AFP van and escorted me to the Community Service Liaison Centre to be assigned my duties as a community servant to earn my Unemployment Benefit - Ms Harriet Harmman exuded an air of natural authority.

While issuing my community servant's uniform, Ms Harmman had emanated an authoritative vibe more effective and subduing than any spoken words could have engendered. An unignorable vibe, warning me to be on my very best behaviour.

She was a daunting, very intimidating woman, of whom one's instinctive sense of self-preservation immediately kicked in. Cautioning gravely, against crossing her, or in any way giving her displeasure, and ramming home the message that the less one saw of Ms Harmman, or was otherwise brought to her attention, much the better off, one would ultimately be.

And upon seeing the tall and lightly built Ms Harriet Harmman again now, her light-brown hair styled in the same AFP-modified concave bob as worn by the CSOs, all of those unsettling, disturbing feelings washed over me and through me anew, as those foreboding sensations and direly warning imperatives urgently reasserted themselves in the very core of me.

The closer the approaching small party of four got to the bank of stocks - to those instruments of barbarism; those anachronistic, Olde Worlde devices of cruelty and humiliation - the more the crowd quietened.

Parting before Ms Harmman's sedate approach, as if the forcefield of her charismatic presence was gently nudging them aside, the crowd's growing tension was palpable.

Standing beside the stocks, I saw, was my neighbour from hell Norma Newlove. She was accompanied (surprise, surprise) by her Sock Room cronies Gina Stainham and Cheryl Chubb.

What an absolute, unmitigated misery those three 'Sock Room Girls' had made of my life, these past two weeks.

Of all of the past fortnight's Sock Room attending, sock-changing females, it was these three, who by far were the major contributors to making my life hell.

Especially Norma Newlove. Who, I could only imagine, because of some past imagined or perceived slight, or other, unforgivable insult, was always on the alert and ever on the lookout for new opportunities to punish me.

But me? I thought the reason for our mutual hostility was as simple as it was prosaic: Norma Newlove and I were the flip-side of what is sometimes romantically alluded to as a 'chemical-attraction'.

My being assigned my community servant duties in the town's Sock Room was like a dream come true for Norma.

It meant so much, to her, she'd told me, that it was like receiving all of her lifetime's birthday and Christmas gifts at once - in one huge, unimaginably fantastic, undreamed-of, present.

And now, in her refusal to give clemency to Tina, and insisting and demanding that Tina suffers the pain and humiliation of the publicly administered Standard Six, Norma knew that, by proxy, she would, effectively, be inflicting cruel punishment on me, too.

Norma, in her unspeakable eagerness to see these punishment proceedings under way, was hopping from foot to foot, such was her gleeful anticipation.

So too, from the looks on their faces, were Gina and Cheryl. They were enjoying themselves almost as much as Norma.

A moment or two later the silence became complete as, her mere presence commanding not just the respect but the undivided attention of the gathered Canford citizens, the local Authoritarian Female Party representative prepared herself to speak.

Ms Harriet Harmman's formal, modulated voice, though not loud, still carrying easily to the furthest reaches of the now rapt crowd, intoned, "Citizens of Canford. It is my unpleasant duty, and with great regret, that I bring before you today not a male offender, but a female transgressor: Miss Tina Marshall. Her crime: Grievous Aggravated Assault.

"It was upon female citizen Mrs Norma Newlove, pursuing her lawful activities in the town's Sock Room, whom Miss Tina Marshall so grievously assaulted.

"In being made aware by CSOs Karen and Linda of certain mitigating factors, and considering Miss Tina Marshall's status as a first-offender with a previously unblemished character record, I was inclined towards leniency.

"But her victim, Mrs Norma Newlove, has appealed against my considered lenient adjudication of a formal warning. She has demanded, and is adamant, that her assailant must be awarded the maximum penalty under the law. And, that it is administered, to the full extent of the law."

Yes - she would! I thought, feelingly.

Ms Harriet Harmman now formally addressed Norma Newlove.

"Mrs Newlove. Is it still your wish, that these punishment proceedings are carried out? That your assailant, Miss Tina Marshall, receives the Standard Six public chastisement caning? Even now, at this late stage, you can give clemency. If you have had a change of heart, Mrs Newlove, you only have to say the word, and I shall call an immediate halt to these punishment proceedings. Just say the word, Mrs Newlove, and Miss Tina Marshall's bared bottom will not receive the Standard Six."

Puffed up with righteous indignation, Norma Newlove responded, huffily, "Stop the punishment proceedings, Ms Harmman? Give Tina Marshall clemency? After what she did to me? That is the last thing I want to do! Have I had a change of heart? No! Not a chance! You didn't see what she did to my hair! I want to see the little minx get what's coming to her. I want to see her bare bottom caned - for what she did to me! I only wish I could do it myself!"

Ms Harriet Harmman said, in disappointed resignation, "Very well, Mrs Newlove. Miss Tina Marshall's Standard Six sentence stands."

Turning to address the now, even more, rapt and expectant crowd, the local Authoritarian Female Party official, announced, "That being the state of affairs, it is now my unfortunate and most regrettable duty, to preside over these most unpalatable proceedings. And to see and ensure, that said Standard Six judicial proceedings are duly carried out, both in the spirit and to the letter of the law."

Further notes of regret and disinclination clearly evident in her voice, Ms Harriet Harmman duly instructed, "CSOs Karen and Linda. Unhandcuff the offender, Miss Tina Marshall. Instal her - head, and arms - into the centre set of stocks. Upon my expressed instruction, bare her bottom. She will receive, publicly, upon my expressed instructions, the Standard Six."

"Ma'am!" replied CSOs Karen and Linda, who with zealous enthusiasm proceeded to do their superior's, albeit reluctant, bidding.

But CSOs Karen and Linda, I knew, weren't inclined towards leniency. Nor were they reluctant. And not in the least, were they troubled by feelings of regret, or disinclination.

Tina, in protesting publicly and vociferously against Prime Minister Caroline Flynt and her Authoritarian Female Party government's so-called 'female-friendly' rule - demanding the all-female Party's immediate removal from office, no less - had forfeited any such scintilla of sympathy, that AFP-employed CSOs Karen and Linda may previously have had for her. They would have no unpleasant pangs of remorse.

For all of CSOs Karen and Linda's smug boasting and gloating over being paid for a full day at triple-time pay, for what would probably amount to less than half an hour's work, I knew for an absolute fact that the very generous monetary incentives were to them just a welcome bonus.

CSOs Karen and Linda would have given up their free time gladly, and volunteered with willing enthusiasm and for no monetary gain at all, to administer the Standard Six, bare-bottom caning, to the 'ungrateful', self-confessed anti-AFP, Tina.

Tina's head and both of her arms were now inserted and secured in the centre set stocks.

My heart was being torn apart, at the very sight. It was unbearable.

The girl I loved - brutally installed, by of all people, my two Sock Room supervisors CSOs Karen and Linda, into Canford High Street's centre set of stocks!

Ms Harriet Harmman said, "CSOs Karen and Linda. Prepare to perform the Standard Six."

"Ma'am!" said CSOs Karen and Linda.

"CSOs Karen and Linda. Upon my expressed instructions, you will both duly administer your canes, to offender Miss Tina Marshall's bared bottom."

"Ma'am!" said CSOs Karen and Linda.

"CSOs Karen and Linda. Disrobe the offender, Miss Tina Marshall: bare her bottom."

"Ma'am!" said CSOs Karen and Linda.

I couldn't stand this!

I could not, and would not, let this happen.

Because I could, and would, stop it.

"No - wait!" I shouted.

An excited commotion came over the attending citizens of Canford. Almost frantically, they looked about, trying to ascertain both the exact location and the source of the urgently shouted appeal.

As I approached Ms Harriet Harmman, not wanting to hinder my way, members of the crowd parted before me in their eagerness to witness whatever unexpected events were apparently about to unfold.

Ms Harmman said, "So ... Community servant David double-oh-seven. What do you have to say?"

But I think she knew ... No: I knew, she knew. It was in her smile.

I was well prepared; I knew what I must now say. I'd been to the town library, and I'd looked up the relevant section of official, formal jargon. And then, so that I wouldn't mess up, I'd learned it by heart.

"Ms Harmman," I said respectfully, and formally. "I humbly beg your indulgence, to formally claim my lawful constitutional right, as a male citizen, to assume upon myself, the judicial sentence awarded to a female citizen: Miss Tina Marshall."

Perhaps only I, had noticed, that upon hearing my pleading voiced, cap-in-hands words, Ms Harriet Harmman visibly brightened; her smile, widening, just ever so slightly. As though I had duly confirmed her assumption. And as though thinking, that she would not, now, after all, have to preside over such unfortunate and unpleasant, female-punishment proceedings. History would still be made today, in Canford - but not, thankfully, as scheduled.

"No! No, David!" cried Tina, absolutely appalled, at my sudden intervention.

"Be quiet, you!" admonished CSO Karen.

The local Authoritarian Female Party representative said, "Are you quite sure, Community servant David double-oh-seven?"

"Yes, Ms Harmman," I said respectfully.

"You are fully aware, then, of exactly what this will entail? Since you are apparently au fait with the relevant protocol, can I infer from that that you are also fully conversant, with what you are asking my permission to undertake, in offender Miss Tina Marshall's behalf?"

"Yes, Ms Harmman. I am fully aware."

"That you will assume Miss Tina Marshall's Standard Six chastisement caning, at triple-rate: eighteen, strokes of the cane?"

"Yes, Ms Harmman."

"Administered publicly, to your bared bottom? In the stocks?"

"Yes, Ms Harmman."

"No! No, David! Don't! You mustn't!" yelled Tina, hysterical with anguish, at my out-of-the-blue heroics.

"You have been told to shut up!" CSO Linda shouted at Tina. "I won't tell you again!"

Ms Harmman then went on, "And, that the offender's victim, if she so wishes, is allowed to administer all, or some of the eighteen cane strokes, herself? In this case: Mrs Norma Newlove?"

"Yes, Ms Harmman," I said respectfully. "Ye-yes. I ... I understand."

Norma couldn't believe it - this was too good to be true.

"Yes!" my neighbour from hell Norma Newlove yelled gleefully. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"No, David!" cried Tina, distraught. Distraught, at the notion of me handing myself over to my nemesis Norma Newlove, in her stead. "Don't do it, David! Don't! You mustn't do it, David! You mustn't!"

"Miss Tina Marshall! You have been told twice by my CSOs to remain silent!" said Ms Harmman sternly. "One more word out of you, and I shall award you a mandatory Standard Six - for contempt! And then all of Community servant David double-oh-seven's suffering in your behalf will have been for nothing!"

Ms Harriet Harmman instructed, "CSOs Karen and Linda. Release offender Miss Tina Marshall from the stocks. On my authority, her Standard Six chastisement caning is duly rescinded."

"Ma'am!" said CSOs Karen and Linda, sounding disappointed. But the law, was the law.

Upon her release from the stocks, Tina looked at me - and I will never forget the look on her face.