High Jinx

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High Jinx Page 10

by Sara Lawrence


  ‘She’s telling the truth,’ Chastity smirked. ‘Poor Mrs Dickinson was in a very bad way. Mrs Bennett’s taken her to the Royal Sussex.’

  Gunn glared around the girls, torn between deciding whether this was an elaborate ploy to get rid of her and punishing them accordingly, or racing back up to the school to find out what had happened to Susan, her only friend in the world.

  Susan won. Mrs Gunn spun round without saying a word and began her arduous progress up the gently sloping pitches. The girls killed themselves laughing at the unlikely friendship – who’d have thought either of the old dragons had any friends, let alone each other – before contentedly sparking up their spliff for the second time.

  Chastity was bidding Paul, her handyman boyfriend, a fond farewell when Jinx burst into her room later that night.

  ‘Shit, sorry guys,’ said Jinx, completely ignoring their snogging, clearly not planning on leaving any time soon. ‘How’re you doing anyway, Paul, not seen you for ages.’

  She really did like him a lot. At first Chastity had only started seeing him to piss her mum off, but she’d fallen for him big time and they’d been going out for seven months.

  ‘Fine ta, Jinx,’ Paul smiled at her before turning to hug Chastity goodbye. ‘I’ve got to run – I’ll leave you two to it.’

  He sprung out the window, blew Chastity a kiss and waved before disappearing into the night.

  Jinx kicked off her shoes, lay face down on Chastity’s bright-pink bed and moaned. ‘Shall we get a pizza in, Chas?’ she mumbled into the pillow. Ordering in takeaways was one of their favourite sixth form privileges. ‘Stella is doing my head in.’

  ‘I know, she’s …’ Chastity paused, rummaging about in her desk drawer before triumphantly pulling out a Domino’s menu and her mobile phone, ‘a bit of a weird one. Do you think she’s actually, like, retarded or something? I can’t work her out at all – I just know I don’t like her. Where have her and Liberty gone?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Jinx turned over and crossed her arms behind her head, frowning. ‘I can’t help but feel a bit … left out, you know …

  ‘Which is stupid,’ she continued, ‘because it’s not like I want to go out with them anyway. It’s just bloody Liberty. I wish she could see what a freaky little bitch Stella is, but she’s just, like, totally obsessed with her.’

  Chastity ordered an extra large pepperoni passion for delivery and pulled a bottle of very expensive pinot noir out of her cupboard.

  ‘It’s not,’ said Jinx, sighing heavily, ‘that I’m jealous or anything, it’s just that I really can’t stand Stella – she’s so fake – and so the last thing I want to be doing is hanging out with her. There’s something really poisonous about her, I just can’t put my finger on it.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued, the frown fast becoming a scowl, ‘because Lib does like her, I’m not seeing anything of her at all.’

  ‘You know what you need,’ Chastity said, expertly uncorking the wine and pouring it into two of the ludicrously expensive Waterford crystal glasses she’d nicked from her mum’s house, ‘a return to the band!’

  They both sniggered, remembering their third year attempts to put together the best air-guitar band in the world. Jinx, Chastity, Liberty and a girl called Jessica – Chastity’s best friend, who’d been expelled near the beginning of last term when a routine inspection had turned up a large bag of ecstasy pills in her knicker drawer – had been the founder members of Fat Girls are Harder to Kidnap.

  When Jessica left they’d felt it appropriate to disband in honour of her memory, and they were also all a tiny bit bored of jumping about to Bon Jovi when they much preferred house music, not that they would have admitted that to each other. But even thinking about its name – the best band name in the world ever according to Jinx who’d thought it up – was enough to send them into paroxysms of glee.

  Jinx sipped her delicious wine and thought about how inconsolable Chastity had been after Jess had been taken, kicking and screaming, to meet her lawyer dad at the police station in town. Jinx and Liberty had done their best, but not being in the same house had made it tricky.

  Chastity started seeing Paul soon after, and he’d certainly filled the hole better than they ever could; and, knowing Chastity, in more ways than one probably. It seemed a lifetime ago.

  Anyway, Jinx was delighted to be living in the same house as Chastity finally, and even more delighted to have her mind taken off Liberty and Stella’s burgeoning friendship when their meat feast arrived.

  As she got into bed that night, stuffed to the brim with red wine and pizza slices, she pulled one of her beloved Malory Towers books from the shelf by her bed. She had been obsessed with them as a child and still read them every now and then, especially when she felt low. She couldn’t imagine ever losing interest in the adventures of Darrell, Sally and Mary-Lou. Although Jinx always thought Alicia and Betty would have been much more her scene.

  She was sure she’d read somewhere that Enid Blyton hated kids and was giggling to herself at Darrell being stripped of her fourth-form captaincy when her phone bleeped. It was a text from her brother George inviting her and any friends she wanted to a party that weekend. She replied an almost instantaneous big ‘Yes please!’ and fell asleep with a huge grin on her face for the first time since Stella had arrived.

  Jinx screamed with delight and nearly fell from the first-floor common-room window she was leaning precariously out of, clinging on to the windowsill for dear life as she clocked George and Damian pulling up in their battered VW Golf.

  The boys’ great pal Jamie lived in a palatial Regency apartment on Brighton’s seafront, and was having a huge birthday party. Jinx had naturally invited Liberty and Chastity, and Liberty had insisted that Stella come too.

  Jinx didn’t want Stella to come at all, but didn’t want to put Liberty’s back up and was even less desirous of being thought a big bitch in the manger so had reluctantly agreed.

  She just wished she could put her finger on exactly what her problem with Stella was. Apart from her gang, no one else seemed to see anything wrong with her, quite the opposite in fact, but she made Jinx’s skin crawl.

  Jinx sprinted down the stairs, rushed out of the door and skidded to a halt beside the car’s closed passenger door before wrenching it open and throwing herself on to Damian’s lap. After the unfortunate incident with the lamppost when he’d been ogling a builder’s bum, George never let him drive.

  ‘Easy, tiger,’ he squealed in his usual high camp fashion as Jinx threw her arms around his neck, ‘I’m wearing linen trousers and they are gonna be so creased if you carry on wriggling about like that.’ He kissed the top of Jinx’s curly head and winked at George.

  ‘God,’ Jinx said, turning to throw her arms around George, ‘I have missed you guys so much.’

  They looked at each other, concerned. They were used to Jinx being thrilled to see them and to her enthusiastic greetings, but not at all to seeing her verging on needy like this.

  ‘Is everything OK, darling?’ asked Damian, a slightly worried look passing across his handsome face. ‘You seem a bit – I dunno – vulnerable. And that is so not the Jinx we know and love.’

  ‘Yes,’ said George, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder, ‘anything your big brothers should know about? Not in trouble or something are you?’

  ‘Oh God, nothing’s wrong,’ said Jinx, suddenly horrified to feel she might be on the brink of tears. ‘I’m just so happy to see you, that’s all. I don’t know what’s wrong with me at the moment. I just feel really emotional all the time – maybe it’s PMT or something.’ Jinx had never once suffered even the slightest cramp. She smiled at them and surreptitiously scrubbed the corner of her eye with a somewhat dirty sleeve.

  ‘Boys!’ she exclaimed, worried by their concerned faces, ‘I’m fine, I promise. I’m so happy you’re here and I’m so looking forward to Jamie’s party.

  ‘I know you know that Liberty’s coming and I really hope you
don’t mind, but I’ve invited Chastity Maxwell too – you know her, we were in The Crucible together last year. And a new girl called Stella Fox. Her and Lib are really quite friendly,’ Jinx sniffed involuntarily.

  ‘Ah,’ Damian said, smiling his studied ‘wry’ smile that he’d spent hours perfecting in the mirror whilst studying philosophy at Manchester, ‘is that what’s wrong? Liberty’s got a new friend and the apple cart feels all upset?’

  ‘Humpf,’ snorted Jinx, both miffed and pleased that her brother had figured out the problem without her having to bring it up herself. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I really don’t, but I’m finding this term really quite difficult, friends wise.

  ‘Chastity’s fine, as always. I’m really pleased to be in the same house as her, finally. We’ve talked about how great it was going to be since the freaking first year, and it is.’ Jinx paused reflectively and shook her head. ‘And Liberty’s fine too, except she loves Stella – everyone seems to, apart from Chas, Liv and Charlie – and I really don’t. In fact, if you want the honest truth, she makes me want to puke. And I don’t want you guys to think I’m jealous – because I’m not, really I’m not.

  ‘It’s nothing tangible I can put my finger on … I just get a really bad vibe off her. And I know it sounds stupid and suspicious and jealous and all the rest of it, but it’s how I feel and I can’t help it. I guess if I’m really honest I’m worried about what might happen to Lib. I know that might sound stupid too, but you know what her bloody dad’s like.’

  Damian and George had no time to reply as Liberty wrenched open the driver’s door and flung her arms around George’s neck.

  ‘George, Gaymian!’ she squealed, ‘I’m so pleased to see you guys – how are you? How was the drive? What time are we going out?’

  ‘One two three breathe, Liberty, breathe,’ giggled Damian who really did love Jinx’s best friend. He looked her up and down and smiled.

  ‘You look fabulous as ever, darling,’ he said in his gayest voice that he always reserved for matters of fashion. ‘Don’t tell me, don’t tell me,’ he frowned, putting one hand on his hip and pointing at her with the other, ‘Dior?’

  ‘Gaymian!’ she squealed, jumping up and down in the gravel. ‘You know it is, cos it says it on the front, doesn’t it?’ She laughed, fingering the hem of Stella’s J’Adore Dior top.

  ‘Oh silly me, silly me,’ he continued, waggling his fingers at her. ‘I didn’t notice that. I was looking at the unmistakable stitching – it’s got Christian written all over it.’

  George unfolded his long limbs and extricated himself from the front seat. He picked Liberty up and swung her round, cueing yet more high-pitched screams of delight.

  He dumped her back down, patted her on the head and began unloading a huge hamper from where it had been wedged on the back seat.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Jinx, eyeing it delightedly for she was pretty sure she knew exactly what it was.

  ‘It’s for you from mum,’ said George. ‘She says it’s got to last you at least two weeks, which, since you’re coming home then anyway, shouldn’t be too hard.’

  Jinx, feeling her eyes fill with yet more inexplicable tears and not wanting anyone to notice, grabbed Damian’s hand and pulled him along the path leading to Tanner House’s front door.

  George, carrying Jinx’s massive hamper in one hand as if it weighed no more than a bag of sugar, followed behind with Liberty who was still chattering excitedly about the night ahead.

  Damian squeezed Jinx’s hand and rested a reassuring arm around her shoulder. She gripped his hand back and mumbled an almost inaudible ‘Thanks’, resolving to pull herself together tout suite as the Dick would say.

  As they pulled up outside the very grand block of white flats on Marine Parade, Jinx felt a lot happier. She was sitting on Damian’s lap in the front seat, next to George who was driving. Liberty, Stella and Chastity were in the back, singing along to DJ Sammy’s ‘The Boys of Summer’.

  She loved her brothers so much. Whatever was going down they always made her feel invincible and looked after. Also, no matter what she did or said, or how much they liked her friends, they would always take her side when it came to it, no matter what and no questions asked. That’s what brothers are for.

  Jamie, George’s pal from school and now the richest art student in Brighton, was a great guy and an extremely genial host. He had a huge trust fund and had bought this incredible apartment outright in his first week at college. He’d always felt slightly shady about his vast wealth, so rented rooms out for practically nothing to his crusty sculptor friends and was constantly hosting champagne parties for the rest of his scruffy student chums.

  Jinx really liked him, always had, and was beyond delighted when he gave her a hug and whispered ‘Hey, you look hot stuff tonight, Jinxy’ in her ear before ushering their gang up the stairs.

  Chastity was dead impressed. ‘Gosh, thanks so much for inviting me, Jinx,’ she said. ‘I really, really appreciate it. And I love your brothers – you’re so lucky to have such a great family.’

  ‘I know,’ said Jinx, feeling a sudden pang as she thought about Chastity’s disastrous mum and missing-presumed-dead dad. ‘And I’m really glad you’re here. You’ll love Jamie and I know George and Damian like you loads already.’

  The boys disappeared into the kitchen and Jinx did a little dance at the top of the stairs. Much happier now, she was determined to have a great evening.

  ‘Right then, ladies,’ she smiled, mock curtseying, ‘let’s have some fun. Basically, the only rule is we leave when George and Damian do. No one leaves on their own or my mum will kill me, and then them, and then they’ll never be allowed to take me out again. Then I’d have to kill you, and then my life would basically be over. Capiche?’

  Liberty nodded, well used to Mrs Slater’s incredibly easy to keep rules, as did Chastity, who would have jumped off the cliff if Jinx had asked her to, so delighted was she to be out in town with such gorgeous older guys. Stella smirked and although Jinx felt like punching her in the face, she smiled sweetly, spun round and led the way into Jamie’s capacious living room where a hot Indian DJ was spinning house tunes from an impressive-looking pair of silver decks.

  A very fit surfer dude wearing baggy jeans and a green T-shirt with a silver dragon on the front was standing behind a shiny art deco drinks cabinet. He shook his silver cocktail shaker ostentatiously above his head and yelled at them to come over and grab a drink.

  They didn’t need asking twice. Clutching pint glasses filled to the brim with cachaça, lime quarters, mint and crushed ice, the girls settled themselves down on some giant, sari-covered cushions artfully arranged in front of the double-glazed doors leading to the decked roof terrace complete with hot tub.

  ‘Wow, this place is awesome,’ said Chastity, her eyes on stalks even though the Knightsbridge apartment she called home had been interior designed to within an inch of its life and contained every gadget known to man.

  ‘I know,’ Jinx said, smug as hell, ‘and check out all these fit blokes!’

  Stella slowly and purposefully crossed and re-crossed her legs on the floor in front of her, flashing more than an eyeful of the yellow lace French knickers she was wearing underneath her extremely small distressed denim miniskirt. Jinx ground her teeth and wondered, not for the first time, why Stella’s clothes never seemed capable of covering her up for long.

  Chastity was chatting to Paul on her mobile, telling him to get his arse down here pronto, and Stella had sashayed off to find the loo. Jinx threw herself onto the recently vacated leather beanbag next to Liberty, pulled out a ready rolled reefer and waved it in front of her face. ‘Two’s up, Lib?’ she asked, nodding towards the roof terrace and winking.

  It was freezing outside but they snuggled up on a double rocking chair piled high with mohair blankets overlooking the seafront. They were sitting high enough up and far enough back to not see the road at all. Bloody Jamie – but at least he was
sharing the wealth. It was like being out at sea up there.

  They sat in companionable silence, inhaling, inhaling, and passing on until Liberty began convulsing with laughter. Jinx looked sideways at her friend and couldn’t help creasing up herself.

  The more Liberty laughed the more Jinx laughed. Tears rolled down their cheeks and Liberty started to panic – as she always did – that she couldn’t breathe. Jinx knew exactly what was going through her friend’s mind. The redder in the face she went, the more uncontrollable Jinx became until they were lying on top of each other in the by now furiously rocking chair screaming and squealing.

  They weren’t laughing at anything in particular, it’s just what happens when you throw two good friends, one excellent skunk spliff smoked at a certain covert distance from the main party and a generally congenial atmosphere into the mix.

  As they straightened themselves out Jinx felt a zillion times happier. It wasn’t just the weed either. Liberty wrapped her arms around her and they sat like that, not speaking, for ages.

  Chastity poked her head round the door, teetered as if she was going to say something, but then made as if to beat a hasty and silent retreat before Jinx shouted out to her to come and join them. ‘Come on, Chas,’ Liberty agreed, patting the space between them. ‘Come and sit down here!’

  ‘Sorry, guys,’ Chastity said. ‘I didn’t mean to get in the way or anything. I was just looking around for you guys but if you’re having a talk or whatever tell me and I’ll leave you be for a while.’

  ‘Shut up, Chas,’ said Liberty, amused. ‘We’re just smoking a spliff for Christ’s sake. I feel like I’ve not seen Jinx a lot recently, or you – and I don’t know why. But, anyway, we’re all here now so let’s enjoy ourselves. How’s the party?’

  ‘Brilliant. Paul popped down but he’s had to go and hear one of his mates play in a band down the road. Stella’s snogging some guy in the hallway and George and Damian are doing keg stands in the living room.’

 

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