High Jinx

by Sara Lawrence

  ‘No buts,’ he said gathering up the photographs and stuffing them back into their envelope, ‘I say now and I mean now.’

  Jinx took Liberty’s right hand in her left and wrapped her right arm around Liberty’s waist. They walked like that, crying and telling each other how much they loved each other, all the way to the H-pad in the middle of the hockey pitch where Stella had smashed her ball into Liberty’s head on her first day.

  Amir didn’t say a word to Jinx or Mrs Bennett as he helped Liberty climb into the back of the ostentatiously branded Harrods’ chopper. She pressed her face against the window and stared at them with huge tears rolling down her cheeks as Amir jumped in the front and the pilot prepared for take-off. Mrs Bennett put her arm around Jinx’s shoulder, but there was no consoling her. The two of them stood and watched as the helicopter circled the pitches twice before disappearing over the sea. They stood there until they could see it no more.

  Jinx refused Mrs Bennett’s offer of a cup of tea and a chat, saying she’d prefer to be alone. They parted company by the tuck shop and Jinx began her solitary trudge down the drive to Tanner House. She felt numb to the core. So shocked she couldn’t even think about what had just happened. She couldn’t remember feeling this miserable ever before and doubted she would again.

  Thankfully no one was sitting around in the foyer so she didn’t have to deal with any stupid questions about Stella or fake interest in the results of someone’s maths test or most recent row with their boyfriend. She collapsed on her bed face down and wondered whether she would ever see her best friend again. She couldn’t believe the nerve of Amir turning up out of the blue like that. She supposed if she was really honest he’d been looking for a reason to take Liberty out of Stagmount pretty much since she’d started. The one thing she’d never been able to understand was – since he so obviously hated liberal Western culture – what on earth possessed him to send her here in the first place.

  As she lay there, Jinx began to wonder if it was in fact her fault that Liberty had been dragged off like that, especially given the Stella debacle. If she hadn’t taken that recording to Mrs Bennett who’d then got rid of her, Stella would still be here and not desperately seeking revenge.

  Someone knocked softly at Jinx’s door and she groaned. It was bound to be Chastity or one of the others wanting to know what had happened and why Liberty had been flown off like that at a moment’s notice. She supposed she’d have to tell them at some point and, much as she didn’t feel like it, it may as well be now. She got up off her bed and opened her door.

  Fanny Ho was standing there on one leg. She was rubbing the other up and down the back of her calf, chewing her lip and was clearly bothered about something.

  ‘Hi, Fan,’ Jinx said, smiling even though she felt like crying, ‘what do you want? More Vaseline?’

  ‘Um, no …’ Fanny looked close to tears as well. ‘I need to ask your advice about something. I’ve got a real problem and I don’t know who else to talk to.’

  ‘OK,’ Jinx said, so surprised she forgot about Liberty for a second. Her and Fanny had always got on but they’d never been exactly bosom buddies because Fanny normally kept to herself. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Well, it’s actually easier if you come into my room, Jinx,’ said Fanny, gesturing across the corridor. ‘I can explain it better in there – and I really appreciate this, I really do.’

  ‘It’s fine, don’t worry about it,’ said Jinx, slipping on her white Havaianas and following Fanny, now feeling very curious.

  Fanny flung open her door, strode into what Jinx could immediately tell was a very clean room, and sat down on her bed. Jinx followed her in and looked around before doing a massive double take. Sitting next to Fanny on the bed was another Chinese girl. She was wearing a grey Y3 T-shirt, baggy black Maharishi trousers and retro Nike trainers. If Jinx hadn’t just seen Fanny in the corridor wearing a bright-pink Paul Frank top she wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart.

  ‘What the fuck?’ Jinx was staring at them. ‘Am I seeing things or are there are two of you?’

  ‘Jinx,’ Fanny said, putting her arm around the other girl and squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, ‘this is my girlfriend, Maureen Mo.’

  Jinx stared at them for another long minute, before collapsing to the floor where she rolled around crying with laughter. ‘Sorry, guys,’ she spluttered through her tears, ‘I’m not laughing at you two, I just can’t believe none of us realised.’

  ‘I know,’ said Fanny. ‘That’s good – and exactly what we wanted! We didn’t look that alike to start with, but we got so many funny looks from you lot we quickly realised we’d have to change our hair and start wearing all the same clothes if we didn’t want our game to be up pretty damn quick. It’s been a mission, that’s for sure. We’ve practically had to clone each other – but for one result. It’s been fun up till now.’

  ‘All term,’ she snorted, ‘all freaking term we’ve thought Fanny had the biggest wardrobe in the Western world … and the best hairdresser.’

  ‘I know,’ Fanny grinned. ‘And Maureen said she called you Liberty once by mistake. I thought the game was up then.’

  ‘No!’ Jinx cried, ‘I thought you’d gone mad. And what about when I saw you with that massive takeaway? That was for both of you, wasn’t it? God, Fanny, I’m sorry I thought you were such a pig.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Jinx,’ Fanny smiled. ‘If anything I should apologise to you. You probably thought I was being really off and rude all term, but Mo and I decided we couldn’t get involved in any long conversations with anyone as we couldn’t afford to draw attention to ourselves. That’s why I’ve practically run away every time you’ve tried to speak to me – if we’d been friendlier you lot would definitely have noticed.’

  ‘But, Fan,’ she said, when she’d collected herself sufficiently from her latest fit of hysteria, ‘I don’t understand – you’ve got away with it for so long, and I certainly won’t tell anyone, so what’s the sudden problem?’

  Fanny bowed her head and looked very concerned. ‘The thing is, Jinx,’ she said, ‘Maureen is not actually a pupil here. I smuggled her here from Hong Kong.’

  ‘What?’ Jinx could hardly believe what she was hearing. ‘You’re telling me Maureen’s not registered at Stagmount? I thought she must be a fifth year from one of the junior houses or something. How the fuck …?’

  ‘I know,’ Fanny said grimly. ‘It’s been fine all term. Maureen’s been coming to breakfast, lunch and dinner every day. The occasional assembly – even a couple of maths lessons when I was studying loads and couldn’t be back here as much as I liked.’

  ‘It’s true,’ chipped in Maureen. ‘I even sat in on a couple of your tutor group lessons with that weirdo Mrs Carpenter when Fanny was too tired to get up in the morning.’

  ‘Mr Morris has even seen us together a few times,’ added Fanny. ‘He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary at all. I guess he assumed the same as you – that Maureen was a friend of mine from another year or something. He’s become quite accustomed to seeing her around the house.’

  ‘So …’ Jinx couldn’t see what the problem was.

  ‘So,’ said Fanny, ‘he’s gone now, hasn’t he? And that terrible Mrs Gunn has stormed in with all her registers and inspections and she keeps wandering into our rooms to root about and see what we’re hiding.’

  ‘It’s all well and good for you lot,’ she sniffed, ‘with the odd bottle of vodka or packet of cigarettes, but I’m harbouring an illegal immigrant. What the hell would she do if she found Maureen and realised she didn’t belong here?’

  ‘Yep,’ agreed Maureen, ‘Fanny and I walked past her going down the drive this morning and she gave us a very funny look.’

  Jinx collapsed in tears again. She wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying any more but one thing was for sure – she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. This was absolutely priceless. She decided then and there that she would swear Fanny and Ma
ureen to secrecy and break Gunn and the Dick’s confidence just this once. Poor Fanny looked so frightened she had to put her mind at rest. Anyway, there must be some sort of honour amongst lesbians, mustn’t there?

  Jinx settled herself comfortably against an offensively pink Hello Kitty branded beanbag – she’d never understand the attraction of that stuff, all the Chinese girls were mad for it – and began to fill them in on everything she’d seen in the bike shed that morning. She was just explaining the bargain she’d struck with the evil pair and saying that so long as Maureen kept a reasonably low profile for the rest of term she’d be absolutely fine when there was a tap at the door.

  ‘Ah, hello girls,’ a beaming Mr Morris said, lounging in the doorframe. ‘I thought I heard Ms Slater’s dulcet tones coming from in here.’

  He looked around and smiled. ‘Afternoon, Fanny, afternoon, Maureen,’ he said, putting his hands in his pockets and looking genially at them. ‘Your housemistress must spend most of her time wondering where you are, Maureen.’

  ‘Hello, Mr Morris,’ Maureen said brightly, cool as a cucumber, ‘it’s great to have you back. We’ve missed you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, girls, your secret’s safe with me,’ he tapped the side of his nose and winked before bumbling off.

  Jinx lay back against Hello Kitty’s wide smiling face and convulsed again, still not sure if she was laughing or crying. When she’d pulled herself together enough to stand up and get back to her own room she peeled the Polaroid of her and Liberty on the first day they’d met off her wall and collapsed on to her bed, staring at it. Fat girls were indeed harder to kidnap. If Liberty had been uglier and friendless maybe this would never have happened. Her phone rang and she answered it with a sob, hoping against hope it was Lib.

  ‘Hi, darling,’ Caroline Slater’s cheery voice said at the other end. ‘Dad and I haven’t heard from you for ages. Is Liberty coming home for Christmas this year?’

  Jinx sighed and turned her stereo down. ‘Mum,’ she said, her voice breaking, ‘I’ve got so much to tell you. I can’t wait to come home.’

  Author biography

  Sara Lawrence attended Rodean School, which was founded by her relatives. Following her MA she became a journalist, working as a staff writer at the Times and the Daily Mail.

  Copyright

  First published in 2007

  by Faber & Faber Limited

  Bloomsbury House, 74–77 Great Russell Street, London WC1B 3DA

  This ebook edition first published in 2014

  All rights reserved

  © Sara Lawrence, 2007

  The right of Sara Lawrence to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

  ISBN 978–0–571–31728–8