High Jinx

by Sara Lawrence

  ‘Yesss!’ She grabbed hold of the silver device – a Sony digital no less – and shoved it deep into the back pocket of her jeans before tying her jumper around her waist in case Brandon was planning to scope out her arse again as she dropped him off. She’d definitely noticed a few bottomwards glances as they’d made their way up the corridor. He emerged a few seconds later and thanked her for her trouble. Poor deluded fool.

  ‘No trouble whatsoever,’ she trilled as she deposited him by Jo’s desk with a jaunty wink. ‘I do hope you have a pleasant interview. Byeee!’

  Forgetting all about her desire for biscuits Jinx skipped back down the corridor to double art, shocking a couple of first years practically into tears when she grinned widely and waved at them as she passed. Professor Crawford didn’t notice her slip back in and dash up the winding staircase to her desk. She put her head down and got stuck into her project without saying a word to anyone about her dealings with the journalist.

  ‘Jinx, Jinx!’ It was teatime and Chastity was staring at Jinx. ‘You’ve not listened to a bloody word I’ve said, have you?’

  ‘God, sorry, Chas,’ Jinx looked up from the Bakewell tart she was crumbling into tiny pieces on the plate in front of her. ‘I’m not ignoring you I promise. I was, um, thinking about my English essay. What did you say?’

  ‘Your English essay? Christ, you’ve changed! Don’t worry about it – I still can’t get hold of my freaking mother, that’s all.’ They dumped their plates on top of the precarious dirty pile on the trolley and set off to the reference library that hadn’t seen so much action in years.

  Jinx had to stifle a giggle as they walked past Jo’s desk and heard her bitching on the phone about incompetence, useless journalists and having to rearrange Mrs Bennett’s diary once again. ‘What happened to shorthand?’ she squawked, tossing her red curls around self-importantly, ‘it was mandatory at secretarial college.’

  Stella and Liberty were sitting on a table on their own in an alcove at the back of the room; their heads were close together and they were whispering about something. All day, whenever Liberty had seen any of them she’d turned her back or walked in the opposite direction. Stella had strutted about with an infuriatingly smug smile on her face as if she owned the place and the rest of them had totally ignored her but ground their teeth about it whenever they got a moment alone.

  Although she’d been tempted to spill all to Chastity when they’d heard Jo’s rant, Jinx hadn’t said a word to anyone about her filching of the tape recorder. She needed to think about what, exactly, she was going to do with it and didn’t want any distractions. And whichever way she was going to end up playing this she knew it would be a solo mission.

  Jinx sat on her bed painting her nails. There was nothing like the smell of acetate to concentrate the mind, and she often had her best thoughts whilst performing a mini-manicure. She gave her newly hot-pink fingertips a quick blast under the hairdryer and looked at her watch. It was eleven-thirty. She’d heard Liberty switch her stereo off an hour earlier and knew of old she only did that when she was going to sleep. She peeked around her door – the rest of the house was dark and silent.

  Jinx stood in front of her chest of drawers and looked in her mirror. Christ it was filthy. She grabbed a T-shirt out of her overflowing laundry basket and scrubbed at the dirty glass. She squinted at it – the pale-pink T-shirt now had a dirty great black mark on it but at least she could see clearly enough to make sure her mascara actually ended up on her eyelashes. She wasn’t putting loads of make-up on, but whenever she knew she was having an important encounter she liked to go into it looking at least decent. Like armour, she felt it gave her an edge. It was more psychological than anything else, but still – whatever helps.

  She ran some Frizz-Ease extra strength through her curly hair and spritzed L’eau D’Issey generously all over her. She smoothed the front of her baggy boy jeans and slipped on her black Havaianas flip-flops. Finally, she switched the slim silver tape recorder on for the umpteenth time to check it was working. It was. She set it to record and slipped it deep into the front pocket of her baggy jeans. She wasn’t planning to sit down at all, but even if she did the jeans were so voluminous an observer wouldn’t see it or, worst case, they’d assume it was a mobile phone.

  Jinx flicked her light switch off and opened the door. She stepped into the corridor and allowed it to swing gently closed against her hand. She took a deep breath in the dark before tiptoeing silently to the stairs leading to Stella’s room. She cast a longing look at the Diet Coke machine but told herself not to be so bloody ridiculous and carried on.

  Jinx stood outside Stella’s door and saw a sliver of light underneath it. Good. She’d hoped the bitch would be awake since she couldn’t stand the thought of having to wake her up. She didn’t bother to knock as she pushed the door open and stood in the frame.

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ Stella asked, looking up from where she was sitting at her desk typing something on her laptop. ‘I thought you weren’t talking to me.

  ‘In fact,’ she carried on, sneering massively, ‘I thought you hated me because your so-called best friend prefers me to you now.’

  ‘I don’t hate you, Stella.’ Jinx moved into the room and carefully shut the door behind her. ‘It’s true I don’t like you very much, but I don’t hate you. In fact,’ she continued, leaning against the wall as insouciantly as she could, ‘I feel sorry for you.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Stella jerked her head up and stared at Jinx. ‘I don’t need your sympathy. Far from it.’ She laughed maliciously. ‘Yes, I should imagine you’re feeling pretty low right about now, Jinx Slater. Whereas I am totally happy with the way things are going.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet you are.’ Jinx took a step closer and bent down so she could look Stella directly in the eye. ‘I know all about you, Stella. I know how miserable you were at Bedales. I know that you didn’t have any friends, weren’t in any of the teams and how you didn’t get the main part in the school play.

  ‘In fact,’ Jinx went on, delighted by the shock on Stella’s face, pleased to have wrong-footed her so early on, ‘I know a lot of things about you I bet you wish I didn’t.’ She smiled. ‘It’s great, isn’t it?’

  Stella blinked, evidently taken aback. ‘So what?’ she asked eventually. ‘It’s not like you can do anything about it, is it? I’ve got you all exactly where I want you. I’m in charge now and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

  ‘What about McGregor, Stella? I find it hard to imagine that even you could stoop so low as to falsely accuse someone – a married old man for Christ’s sake – of something like that.’

  ‘Shut up, Jinx,’ Stella spat, twisting round and slamming the lid of her laptop shut. ‘You have no idea what it was like there for someone like me. I’d had enough. That play was the final straw – I knew I was good enough but I was passed over again, as I had been all my life. I realised it was my last chance to have the kind of life I wanted and I took it.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jinx replied, ‘and you didn’t care who you took down whilst you did so, did you?’

  ‘No I didn’t,’ Stella hissed. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to be always passed over, always ignored. It wasn’t even as if they laughed at me – I might as well not have been there for all the notice they took of me. Yes, I lied about McGregor, and why the hell shouldn’t I? He was one of the worst, always looking after his favourites and ignoring everyone else.’ Stella shook her head. ‘Who told you all this anyway?’

  ‘I had a very interesting chat with Jennifer Lewis when – thanks to you – I was suspended last week. She’s an old friend.’

  Stella looked furious. ‘That bitch was one of the worst. I might have known she’d be a friend of yours. You all stick together, don’t you? You just can’t help yourselves.’

  ‘If you’d bothered to take the time to get to know us, Stella, you’d have realised pretty quickly that Stagmount is nothing like Bedales. We don’t ignore
people unless they deserve it. We were totally prepared to be friends with you when you arrived, but you’ve done nothing since you got here to make us think you’re worthy of it.

  ‘And what happened to Mr Morris then?’ Jinx jiggled her hand in her pocket to make sure the recorder wasn’t jammed against her leg and would pick everything up. ‘You just couldn’t stand being told off by him so you played the same game with him, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes I did.’ Stella leaned back in her chair. ‘And what are you going to do about it?

  ‘Oh,’ she crossed her legs and smiled triumphantly, ‘I forgot – there’s nothing you can do is there? Yes, in my experience people have a habit of taking these things pretty seriously. In fact, I’d say it’s pretty damn unlikely you’ll ever see your beloved Mr Morris again.

  ‘So, when all things are considered it’s pretty irrelevant what you think isn’t it, Jinx? No one’s going to believe you over me. And even if they did suspect you were telling the truth you’ve got no way of proving anything.’ She stood up and stretched. ‘What an interesting chat this has been. Liberty and I are planning an early morning gym session and I need to go to bed.’

  Stella stood up and held the door open. ‘Night then,’ she trilled sarcastically, ‘sweet dreams.’

  ‘Night, Stella,’ Jinx said, backing out the door, her hand placed protectively over the front of her jeans. ‘It has been an interesting chat. Very illuminating indeed.’

  Jinx ran down the corridor and took the stairs two at a time, not bothering to tiptoe. She dashed into her room, wedged the chair under the door handle and removed the tape recorder from her pocket. She placed it reverentially on her desk and admired the blinking red record light before carefully switching it to Off. She rooted around at the back of her desk drawer, found the tuck-box key she rarely used except when she had a bag of weed and needed a safe stashing place, put the recorder in there, locked it and went to sleep gripping the key in her hand.

  Jinx turned up to the daily dress inspection with the key in her pocket but didn’t bother going to chapel. Stuff the consequences, she needed to have a think about what she was going to say before she took Stella’s confession to Mrs Bennett. Since Gunn was more than likely prowling the house looking for chapel-dodging miscreants she didn’t dare smoke her usual morning cigarette out the window but decided to have it in the bike shed instead. She’d copied a key years ago, and walked over there chewing the inside of her lip and wondering what the fallout from this particular mission would be.

  Mrs Bennett would surely get rid of Stella – she couldn’t keep her at Stagmount after something like this. Liberty would have to see that she’d been duped. Mr Morris would be reinstated quick smart and things would go back to normal. Jinx grinned.

  As she stood outside the lock-up and removed her duplicate key she thought she heard rustling from within. None of the juniors would be skipping chapel – they had tutor group beforehand and were walked there by their form teachers who sat at the end of their rows. None of her year would be in there thanks to Gunn’s new regime and, anyway, as far as she knew she was the only pupil who had a key. She pressed her ear against the door and heard a distinct moan. Who the hell was in there and what were they doing?

  She decided to fling the doors open and confront whoever it was, if necessary claiming she’d been given the key by one of the gardeners to get her bike out. Jinx quietly put the key in the lock, wiggled it around and felt it click. She flung open the door and gasped as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

  Mrs Gunn was on her knees on the dusty ground, her vast bottom facing the door. She was wriggling about and groaning in front of … oh my God … it was the Dick! The Dick was lying against an old milk crate. Her check skirt had ridden up to expose incredibly pasty and much veined legs wrapped around Gunn’s huge waist. Her white arms were flung with careless abandon around Gunn’s neck and her bright orange hair was only just visible behind Gunn’s massive bonce. The pair of them were sucking on each other’s lips, moaning and groaning all the while, obviously having the time of their lives.

  They were so involved in each other that neither had noticed the door opening or Jinx coming in. ‘Dick, Dick, Dick!’ heavy breathed Gunn, pumping herself forwards in ecstasy. ‘Patricia, I want you!’ responded the Dick, tightening her legs around Gunn’s midriff and exposing even more thigh.

  Jinx was torn between hysterical laughter and the very real feeling that she might actually be sick. She reached in her pocket for her mobile phone and set it to video. No one would believe her if she didn’t have documentary evidence. This was going to be the best happy slapping video in the world. Jinx lit her cigarette and trained her phone on the grunting pair.

  Gunn was the first to turn around. When she saw Jinx her eyes disappeared so far into the folds of fat above and below them that she looked like one of the brains in the jar in that Steve Martin film. ‘Slater,’ Gunn looked absolutely horrified, ‘what the hell are you doing here?’

  She somehow managed to turn herself around to face Jinx whilst still protecting the Dick’s modesty – fragile as it was at this stage. ‘How did you get in here?’ she blustered. ‘I can assure you this is not what it looks like. Mrs, er, Dickinson had something in her eye, and I, er, was …’

  ‘Don’t bother, Mrs Gunn,’ Jinx smirked. ‘I’ve got two brothers. I’ve heard it all before. And anyway,’ she tapped her phone, ‘I’ve got it all saved in here. Very interesting it is too. The Dick and the Gunn … who’d have thought it!’

  ‘Jinx,’ the Dick had managed to pull her skirt down to where it belonged, stood up and was staring beseechingly at her, ‘please – I beg you – don’t show anyone that. I know we’ve not always got on in the past, but I do think you are a very warm-hearted girl and not at all bad at French.’

  Jinx laughed so heartily at this that she had to steady herself against a stack of bicycles leaning against the wall.

  ‘Don’t make me laugh,’ she snorted, ‘you hate me. I’ve never heard anything more pathetic in my life. I hope you’re not going to start telling me how much you love me,’ she giggled, pointing at Gunn, ‘that really would be the icing on the cake.’

  ‘What do you want, Slater?’ Gunn growled. ‘Come on – out with it. We’ll never be able to work at Stagmount if this gets out. The girls would have a field day.’

  ‘Never a truer word spoken,’ Jinx agreed. ‘Well, not out of your mouth anyway.’

  As the Dick squeezed out a few tears, Gunn put a meaty arm protectively around her shoulders.

  Jinx stared at them. What did she want? It didn’t take her long to decide.

  ‘Right,’ she said, one hand on the door in case they tried to rush her, ‘here’s the deal. You two have made Stagmount girls’ lives an absolute misery for far too long. You’ve been positively evil, and let’s face it – you’re both near retirement age anyway.

  ‘My terms are as follows …’ Jinx unlocked the door and prepared to make a run for it. ‘I will destroy the evidence and swear never to breathe a word about this … um … incident if the pair of you tender your resignations immediately.

  ‘You,’ she pointed at Gunn who’d drawn a sharp intake of breath, ‘will take back all the unfair punishments you have dished out to the lower sixth since you arrived at Tanner, rescind all those ridiculous rules and spend the next week and a half keeping a very low profile. And you,’ she turned to face the Dick, ‘will see out the end of term at home due to your head injury. Frankly, Mademoiselle Dupont does a far better job than you anyway. She has a sense of humour.’

  The teachers looked at each other. There was really nothing they could do but accept. If they didn’t, their lives wouldn’t be worth living anyway, and if they did … well, they could then perhaps realise their dream of moving to a country cottage within easy reach of Devil’s Dyke, living in bliss together and growing their own vegetables. Slowly, and in unison, they nodded their agreement.

&
nbsp; Jinx smiled to herself, thoroughly delighted as she walked out of the door and headed for the main school. What a day! She could hardly believe her luck in catching the evil pair in flagrante like this. She laughed out loud as she looked at her phone – it had been too dark in the shed for the bloody video to work. The only thing visible on the screen was flickering shapes and – if you listened really carefully – a couple of indistinct moans.

  Jinx stood by Jo’s desk waiting to see Mrs Bennett, glancing over her shoulder at the ringed pictures of a celebrity’s armpit sweat stains in the new Heat magazine. Jo had tried to fob her off with an appointment for later in the day, but when Jinx had insisted and said it concerned Mr Morris she’d miraculously magicked up a free slot in the diary then and there.

  Jinx sat down in the chair she seemed to have spent an inordinate amount of time in this term and glanced out of the window to the raging sea before opening her bag, removing the tape recorder and placing it on the desk between her and her headmistress without saying a word.

  ‘Well? What is it, Jinx?’ Mrs Bennett tapped her pen against the side of her computer and raised her eyebrows to the ceiling. ‘I’m very busy today and I certainly don’t have time for any of your games.’

  ‘Just listen to this, Mrs B,’ Jinx switched it on, ‘and then I promise I’ll get straight out of your hair.’

  As the sounds of Stella and Jinx’s discussion filled the air Mrs Bennett sat stock still, listening intently. She didn’t move a muscle, not even to push her glasses up her nose when they slipped down. Jinx stared through the window the entire time, wondering how long it would be before Mr Morris was reinstated and what, exactly, would happen to Stella. Not that she cared particularly, she just found it interesting.