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A Burning Experience
Angela was reaching the end of her first term at Midchester University, a Victorian redbrick university with an excellent academic reputation. She had taken to it like a duck to water, and was having a great time. Her weakness was partying and drinking too much, after the repression of a very strict grammar school.

That Wednesday afternoon she was frantically finishing off an essay that was due on Friday. Due to her procrastination (another of her faults) she had been working all hours to finish it, and was very sleepy.

She finished her last cigarette and realised she had none left. She cursed and decided that fresh air and a walk to the corner shop about half a mile down the road to buy some more fags would do her good. She pulled her coat on, grabbed her bag and left without checking her ashtray.

On the way back she saw two fire engines race up to the Hall of Residence. She broke into a run to see what was going on. To her horror, she realised it was her room that was the centre of attention. As she reached the entrance, her friends greeted her with, "Angela, Thank God you're all right!"

After the initial shock had worn off, she was told that smoke was seen coming under the door of her room and one of the girls had pressed the fire alarm. The head porter had found her wastepaper bin blazing and put it out with a fire extinguisher, and apart from a scorched sheet and a soaked mattress, there was thankfully little damage.

The firemen had concluded that Angela had carelessly left her last cigarette on the ashtray, and the filter tip had dropped, still alight, into her wastepaper bin and caught fire.

The housekeepers changed Angela's bed and bedding and helped her clear up the mess. A very chastened Angela had a disturbed sleep that night, thinking about the possible consequences of her stupidity, had a neighbour not smelt smoke coming from her room so quickly.


Next morning at breakfast the senior tutor of the hall of residence beckoned her over and summoned her to a meeting at 7 pm, immediately after dinner. Angela knew she was in for it, particularly as smoking was only just tolerated, but heavily discouraged as unladylike and unpleasant.

After a dinner that tasted like cardboard, and many jokes from her friends about her foolishness, and comments that it was a good job she wasn't at boarding school or she would be in for a good swishing, she nervously made her way to Professor Wainwright's suite of rooms. She felt just as nervous as she had at school when reporting to the headmistress. Apart from butterflies in her tummy, she had a nervous twitching in her bottom, like she experienced before the slipperings she had received at school. She knocked on the door, a stentorian, "Enter!" boomed out, and she obeyed.