Free The Brave by Nicholas Evans

the bench and grit your teeth."
    Tommy didn't trust his voice so he just nodded. The door opened and the headmaster stood there for a moment looking down at them. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. In his right hand was a thin bamboo cane, about three feet long.
    "You first, Bedford."
    He stepped aside to let Tommy enter then shut the door behind him.
    "Well, Bedford. Jessop leading you astray, is he?"
    "Sir?"
    "Teaching you some of his bad habits."
    "No, sir. It was my idea to go in there, not his."
    "I see. Anything more to say for yourself?"
    "No, sir."
    "Very well. Since this is your first offence, I'm going to give you three."
    Tommy swallowed and nodded.
    "Take off your dressing gown and bend over that bench."
    Tommy's lip began to quiver and he bit it hard. He laid his dressing gown on the bench and turned his back on Mr Rawlston and bent over until his head was inside one of the wire cages. He gripped the edge of the bench as hard as he could. For a moment all went still. Then the sound of Mr Rawlston taking a step forward and the swish of the cane as it whipped through the air and in the next instant a searing white slash of pain as it cut into his buttocks. Tommy whimpered and at the second stroke cried out. Then he remembered Dickie outside and how all the boys upstairs would be listening and he clenched his teeth and held hard to the bench and on the third stroke kept silent. But he couldn't stop the tears. Slowly he straightened himself and stood for a moment, facing the cage, trying to control himself. He felt humiliated and small and wretched and angry.
    "Put your dressing gown on."
    Without looking at him, Tommy did so. He was about to head for the door when he realized Mr Rawlston was holding out a hand. Tommy had forgotten this part of the ritual. The man was actually smiling. Tommy shook his hand.
    "It's customary to say thank you, Bedford."
    "Thank you, sir."
    "Good. Off to bed now."
    "Sir."
    As he came out Dickie smiled at him and whispered well done. Tommy's buttocks were on fire and as he walked along the cold corridor he put a hand inside his pyjama bottoms and gingerly felt the damage. He could trace the three welts but when he checked his fingers there was no blood. He made his way up the creaking wooden staircase and as he reached the top heard the first slash of the cane. He stood there and began to count. Two, three, four, five, six.
    Tommy knew he was supposed to go directly back to his dormitory but instead he decided to wait for Dickie. They would return together. And as the thought occurred, standing at the top of the stairs, he began to feel something shift inside him. He wasn't crying any longer. He didn't feel ashamed or even sorry for himself. It was as if the glow of his backside were spreading and filling him with a kind of heroic pride. And now here came Dickie, grinning at him as he bounded up the stairs.
    "Six!" Tommy whispered.
    "Yeah. Pathetic."
    Tommy smiled.
    "I heard what you told him, about it being your fault. Thanks."
    He put a hand on Tommy's shoulder and left it there a moment.
    "Come on, better get to bed."
    They set off along the corridor. Side by side, like brothers in arms.

Chapter Six
    HE HADN'T SEEN Gina for nearly five years and he was struck by how little she had aged. She'd put on a few pounds but they looked good on her and so did the little smile lines around those dark brown eyes. Her hair was cut short which suited her too. To read the menu she needed to put on glasses, narrow square ones with glossy black frames that made her look both scholarly and sexy. Life knew no justice. Approaching her mid-fifties, she was every bit as beautiful as the day Tom had first laid eyes on her.
    It was she who had chosen the restaurant. It was airy and ruthlessly minimalist. The waiters all wore black and there was an open stainless steel kitchen in the middle so you could watch your food being prepared. Everything on the menu seemed to be seared or