Thinking of Jinx always made her furious and fury always made her hungry so Gunn swept the pile of prep papers to one side and reached for the secret sweet tin she always kept fully stocked with confiscated goods underneath her desk. She fished about in it and grabbed a king-sized Mars bar, ripped it open and gnawed off more than half with her first bite, filling her big mouth fit to bursting with sticky chocolate and caramel.
At that very moment, deeply unfortunately for both of them, Christina Walker’s rather debonair barrister father, Tony, chose to stroll into the study, hand outstretched in greeting only to hesitate just inside the doorframe. He blanched slightly and lowered his hand, evidently disgusted by the sight that greeted him.
‘Ah, hello, Mrs Gunn,’ he said, unable to remove the last hint of disdain from his handsome features despite his poker-face courtroom training, ‘how are you?’
Gunn nodded and gurned, but seeing her trying to swallow by chewing even more furiously and realising she would not be able to speak for at least a few moments yet, Tony Walker decided to seize this unprecedented advantage and not to bother waiting for a response. This was an excellent decision on his part, as it would take the woman-beast in front of him some considerable time to form actual words.
‘Good, good. Now …’ he paused to smooth one of what looked like his suspiciously dyed eyebrows, ‘Christina begged me not to say anything to you, but really I felt I had no alternative under the circumstances.’
Gunn was still chewing masterfully and attempting to gesticulate an apology for her inability to speak, but it would have been obvious even to a blind man that it was no single solitary sweet stopping up that fat mouth, just as she was clearly no lovable grandma.
‘As you know, Christina has been off sick for a week with a nasty cold …’ he coughed slightly – this really was the most abhorrent woman he’d ever come across and he’d dealt with some right horrors in the courtroom.
‘As I was driving her back to Stagmount this afternoon she started crying and told me she thought she needed another week at home. Now, her mother and I are reasonable people and we trust our daughter implicitly but it was obvious to us that whilst she might be fully recovered physically, there was something upsetting her psychologically.’
Gunn attempted to make a concerned face, but it came out as more of a grimace.
‘Eventually,’ Mr Walker continued manfully, trying to look anywhere but at Gunn’s by now puce face that was dripping with sweat, ‘she admitted to me that there was something bothering her. And it was not – as we had assumed – a problem with her classmates, but rather a problem with you, Mrs Gunn.
‘Yes, she told me that she and four of her pals had been made to get up at the crack of dawn and run around the grounds as punishment for a crime she assures me none of them had committed.
‘And furthermore,’ Christina’s father was getting into his stride now, wagging an authoritative finger at the despicable Gunn in front of him, delighted the old goat was clearly not going to be able to interrupt him having his say as she always had in the past, ‘she said that none of them was allowed to wear a jumper or overcoat and that it was a particularly freezing cold morning.
‘In fact, Mrs Gunn, I would not be at all surprised if this,’ he shuddered theatrically, rocked on his heels and stared fixedly at a point somewhere above the housemistress’s head, ‘so-called punishment was the root cause of my daughter’s illness.’
Gunn’s bloodshot eyes were bulging out even further than normal and she was waving her arms about her head as she finally forced the last gulp of the sticky, masticated mess from her mouth down her throat.
‘Mr Walker,’ she gasped, such exertion having made her voice a mere shadow of its usual booming self, ‘that is absolute nonsense!
‘Yes,’ she was getting back into her stride remarkably quickly for one who had literally been rendered mute a few seconds before, ‘I did send Christina and some others out on an early morning run, and, my good man, I can assure you the punishment was well-deserved.’
‘But …’ Poor old Tony was cut off before he could even begin to respond properly.
‘Christina and her friends thought it amusing to steal – and yes thank you, Mr Walker, I know full well you are a man of the law, steal! – my punishment book.’
Gunn stood up to make her point and, thanks to the rather short pair of sailing shorts she was sporting underneath her demure navy crew-neck sweater, Tony was treated to the horrific sight of her huge mottled calves, fatty knees and grotesquely bunioned feet as she emerged from behind her desk.
He blanched once again and thought that really, he had more than done his duty as far as Christina was concerned. When his wife asked him about their meeting – as she surely would, with a horrified fascination she could never summon up when he tried to regale her with tales of ASBO kids and gang warfare – he could, with hand on heart, say he had spoken to Gunn and that he was sure nothing of the sort would happen again.
As he made a sharp exit from the old drone’s lair and sank with relief into the squashy leather front seat of his Jaguar XJS, Tony Walker decided he would get his PA to fire off a quick letter on the same subject to the far more agreeable Mrs Bennett first thing in the morning and that this would surely be the end of the matter.
Mrs Gunn, meanwhile, was thoughtfully nibbling on the remaining end of her king-sized treat. She nursed grudges like they were patients in intensive care.
She chortled with glee as she made her decision and a corresponding note in her punishment book to get one of her pet house prefects to conduct a full and thorough search of all Christina Walker’s personal effects. The girl was bound to have a few illicit cigarettes or bottles of WKD hidden somewhere in her room, and when Gunn found them – to hell with it she thought as she slapped her huge thigh, if there wasn’t anything incriminating in there she’d plant it herself! – the little sneak would have far worse than an early morning run to deal with. That would teach the spoilt little brat to get daddy to come in and try to have a go at her housemistress.
Licking her fat lips with pleasure at the thought of this imminent outwitting of yet another one of her juniors, Mrs Gunn gathered up the rest of the history essays, called for Myrtle and began her torturous ascent up the red-carpeted wide staircase to the sanctuary of her little flat and an early evening snooze.
Jinx was in the middle of a deep and dreamless sleep when she was suddenly awoken by a loud tapping at her window. She checked her watch, saw that it was half-past five in the morning, groaned as she extricated herself out from underneath her huge goose-down duvet and pulled the curtain aside.
Liberty stood outside; swaying and stumbling, she was obviously very pissed. And although she was wearing what Jinx recognised as her smartest indigo Miss Sixty jeans stuffed into brown and white patterned cowboy boots with her new cream French Connection cardigan over a Moschino Cheap and Chic bright-pink T-shirt, she was covered in splotches of mud and, by the state of her hair, she looked as if she really had been dragged through a hedge backwards.
As Jinx flung open the window she realised that it wasn’t only rain pouring down her friend’s face, Liberty was also sobbing uncontrollably.
‘Fucking hell, Lib, what’s wrong, sweetheart? Don’t move, darling, just hold on a tick –’ Liberty leaned against the wall outside as Jinx jumped off her bed and ran to get the miniature screwdriver kit she kept locked in her tuck box.
Liberty was still crying as Jinx unscrewed the safety bolts, threw the window wide open and jumped out to give her pal a leg up.
By the time Jinx had scrambled back in and slammed the window shut behind her, Liberty had wrenched off her filthy cowboy boots and was curled up on Jinx’s bed sniffing huge involuntary gulps every thirty seconds and looking extremely woebegone. There were muddy stains on Jinx’s navy-blue duvet cover and clumps of wet grass sticking to the fluffy white rug that covered the floor – Caroline Slater had been right: white anything for Jinx was always an ill-advised c
hoice – but neither of the girls paid the mess any attention.
Jinx slammed the window shut, pulled her curtains closed, squatted down in front of Liberty and used her thumbs to wipe the tear-stained mud tracks from her best friend’s face before pulling her into a huge bear hug. Liberty started bawling even harder and Jinx rubbed her back and stroked her hair, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get a decent word out of her until she was all cried out.
They sat like that for ages, Jinx rocking Liberty gently until her sniffs became more infrequent and her great gulping breaths returned to something resembling normality.
‘Right then,’ Jinx was getting a really bad cramp in her thigh, feeling more exhausted than she could ever remember and simply had to change position, ‘let’s have it, Latiffe. What’s happened?’
‘You know I went shopping with Stella …’ Liberty paused for a solitary sniff as Jinx nodded encouragingly at her to continue. She’d just known it was something to do with that bitch.
‘Well, we were having a really good day. You know, shopping and stuff and then we decided to go and have some drinks in that blue bar on the seafront. Everything was fine. In fact,’ Liberty stopped again and gave Jinx a watery smile, ‘we were talking about you.’ Jinx arched a sceptical eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
‘Yeah, she was asking me about you and I was telling her how great you are and how long we’ve been friends and all about your family and that amazing time we went skiing in Canada. You know, just chatting about stuff.’
‘And,’ Jinx prodded her gently as Liberty paused to stare into space, ‘then what happened?’
‘Well, we’d had a couple of bottles of wine and were about to leave to come back to school when these two blokes who’d been sitting near us in the bar came over and offered to buy us another drink.’ Liberty sniffed again and looked on the verge of more tears but managed to pull herself together and carried on, ‘It was getting late and I didn’t really fancy it but Stella insisted – she was really, like, adamant about it – so I phoned Mimi and asked her to sign us back in the register. I knew Mr Morris wouldn’t check and I thought we’d only be an hour or two late anyway so it wouldn’t matter even if he did.
‘When I realised it was way over curfew, like past midnight or something, I stood up and said we should go, but Stella said she was staying …’ A few more hot tears escaped Liberty’s eyes and started falling down her flushed cheeks but Jinx carried on stroking her back and she continued, ‘I said I was going to the loo and that when I finished I was going back to school even if she wasn’t.
‘She laughed at me and told me to stop being such a baby, said that Mr Morris was so old and stupid he wouldn’t notice anything amiss and that I should just lighten up. I didn’t want to say anything in front of the boys so I just said we’d talk about it when I came back.
‘Anyway, when I got back to our table Stella and one of the guys had disappeared and the other one – I can’t even remember his name for God’s sake – was holding my bag. He said they’d gone to another bar and that he’d help me get a cab. I was really tired and, you know, drunk and grateful so I went outside with him.’
Jinx’s face was white with fury and she felt an incredible urge to leap off the bed right then and there, run down the corridor and up the stairs to Stella’s room and Kung-Fu kick the door down before grabbing hold of the back of her stupid side ponytail and smashing her face repeatedly into the wall of photographs by her bed until it resembled nothing more than a messy pulp of blood and shattered bone. ‘And then what?’ she asked, through gritted teeth, clenching her fists by her sides.
‘So we’re walking past the Pier and we can’t see any cabs. He says we should walk further up towards the school and wouldn’t it be nice to walk along the beach …’ Liberty was crying for real again now.
‘And?’ Jinx looked relatively calm but inside she was seething. She felt that if she opened her mouth actual steam might come out in a hot, fiery spurt like the breath of a dragon. She clenched her fists until her nails dug into her palms so hard they started to hurt and couldn’t remember being this cross, ever.
‘Well,’ Liberty shuddered, ‘as we got down onto the beach he grabbed me and tried to k-k-kiss me, so I pushed him away and said I wasn’t interested and that I just wanted to get back to sc-sc-school and that I needed a taxi.
‘He didn’t look bad or anything and I thought he was so nice helping me with my bag and the cab and everything so I turned to walk up towards the road and h-h-h-he pushed me.’ Liberty stopped and looked at Jinx through her puffy red bloodshot eyes, she was clearly still very upset.
‘And?’ Jinx asked again, her usually warm voice colder than ice.
‘And I fell over and he leaned over me and sp-sp-spat on me, called me a “frigid Paki bitch”, grabbed my bag and ran off.’
‘He grabbed your bag?’ Jinx’s mind was whirling.
‘Yes,’ Liberty wailed, ‘he ran off with it. Jinx, it was my Mulberry Roxanne!’
‘For Christ’s sake, Lib, don’t worry about that!’ Even though she was so appalled at this story, Jinx still found time to wonder about Liberty and her bloody ridiculous priorities. ‘So how did you get back?’
‘Well,’ Liberty hung her head, looking more miserable than she had since she’d climbed in Jinx’s window, ‘I had nothing on me. No phone, no wallet, no change, nothing. I didn’t know what to do.’
Liberty threw Jinx a sharp look as she heard what the latter was muttering under her breath and shook her head. ‘Shut up, Jin – I could hardly call the fucking police, could I? How would I explain not being at school at two o’clock in the fucking morning when they brought me back here? What if they phoned my dad?
‘Anyway, so I started walking back along the sea road and then cut across the miniature golf course thinking no one would see me if I slipped in the back way we always use. Everything was fine … apart from my feet, which are absolutely killing me … until I saw two guys walking in the opposite direction and got the fear that they might be muggers and rapists too. I threw myself behind a bush so they wouldn’t see me only to land full on in a ditch – right on my arse. After all this rain it was filled with filthy mud.’ Liberty shuddered again before continuing. She was so fastidious she wouldn’t go on a country walk in even the lightest drizzle. The thought of her splashing about in a dark, waterlogged ditch was enough to raise a smile from Jinx – who couldn’t stop thinking how awful it was that Liberty preferred to take her chances with a rapist than phone her dad, admit she was in trouble and ask for help – but it didn’t last long.
‘We’ve got to do something,’ Jinx was apoplectic again, bouncing up and down, her tiredness long forgotten, ‘that bloke should be locked up.
‘This is Stella’s fault. I am going to actually kill her. I’m going to fucking murder her.’ Jinx stood up in a rage and punched the wall. ‘And I’m going to do it right now.’
Liberty sat up in protest but Jinx had whirled out the door and was halfway up the stairs before she’d even had time to flop back down on the pillows.
Stella was nowhere to be seen. When Jinx got back to her own room she found Chastity – who’d been rudely awoken by the furious punch to the wall her and Jinx shared – also lying on her bed, getting the full story from a much happier looking Liberty.
‘Fucking hell, Lib.’ Chastity was incredulous. ‘I can’t believe she just upped and left you like that – with some bloke you’d never even fucking met before. Anything could have happened to you …’ Chastity tailed off as Jinx gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
‘Anyway, Lib, I’m so glad you’re OK. You two must be knackered. You’ve not got anything until double French at eleven have you – do you want me to sign you out in the morning?’
‘Yes please!’ Jinx was delighted by the thought of a nice lie-in. ‘Thanks, Chas, you’re a star. And trust me – Stella fucking Fox is going to wish she was anywhere but here when I’ve finished with her.’
Cha
stity returned to her bed and Jinx and Liberty cuddled underneath Jinx’s king-sized duvet. Jinx was just drifting off to sleep when Liberty mumbled something under her breath.
‘Jinx,’ she asked again, louder this time, ‘why do you think he called me a Paki?’
‘I don’t know, darling,’ she replied, stroking Liberty’s arm, a beam of white-hot fury rushing from her heart straight to her head, ‘I don’t know.’
*
Jinx checked Stella’s room again as soon as she woke up, but she’d obviously not been back at all. Her pink bed was as perfectly made as it had been the night before and her matching towel was dry.
It was fifteen minutes before she and Liberty were due at dreaded double French so Jinx rushed downstairs and into the kitchen/dining room where the lower sixth made and ate their own breakfast.
She walked in to find Liv and Charlie sitting on a table, swinging their legs in unison and wearing matching horrified expressions as Liberty repeated her tale of the night before whilst haphazardly spreading four slices of wholemeal toast with butter and Marmite.
‘You never do the bloody corners properly,’ Jinx said grabbing one off her and chewing off a huge bite all the same. ‘Hi, guys. So what do you think about fucking Stella’s latest then?’
‘Fucking appalling. You know …’ Liv shook her head and pulled out a packet of Camel Lights, tapping one on the table before lighting it up and leaning backwards to blow a long, thoughtful plume of smoke out of the open window behind her. ‘I can’t help but think all this might have something to do with you, Jinx.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Jinx was confused. ‘I don’t like her. I’ve never liked her and she knows it. And she’s certainly not going to be any friend of mine after treating Liberty like that. In fact, she’s going to wish she was dead when I’m finished with her.’
‘That’s my point – fuck it!’ Liv tried to flick her ash out the window but missed and it landed on the inside sill. ‘I think she’s jealous of you. Maybe she wanted to be friends with you when she got here but realised you and Lib were joined at the hip and decided to muscle in. I think she’s very manipulative, an arch manipulator in fact.’
High Jinx Page 13