"What do you think?" Emma swirled around, in what there was of her new
black dress - surreptitiously (or so she thought) inspecting her reflection, in Charlotte's full-length mirror.
"I bought it on Saturday, with some of my birthday."
Charlotte couldn't remember when she herself had
last worn a dress, or even a skirt, that wasn't one of her navy-blue school ones. She had even worn her school skirt
to her nan's funeral, a couple of months ago.
Not now, Charlotte, she told herself. You
can't start thinking about that, at the moment. Later, okay? Think about that stuff later, when Emma's gone, and
you're - well, you're on your own.
Again.
"You look great, Emma," Charlotte assured her friend.
"Thanks, Charlie. How about my hair, though?
Is that okay?" This with a toss of her glossy blonde mane.
"Emma, you wouldn't know what a 'bad hair day' was,
if you didn't hang around with me."
"I'm always telling you to let me style your hair for you
- maybe put in a few highlights or something." Emma seemed to hesitate. "Listen, Charlotte, if you don't do something
about it soon, Richard will lose interest."
"You can't lose what you've never had, Em. Richard
has never shown the slightest bit of interest in me. Now, can we drop it, please?" Charlotte was accutely aware
of how close she was veering to "The Edge".
She almost hated Emma, at times. Then, she would inevitably
end up hating herself, for feeling that way about someone who had, after all, been her best mate since primary school.
The joke of it all was that Emma apparently thought of Charlotte
as this really nice, kind person, who was so loyal and self-less. She wondered how long it would be, before her friend
worked out the truth.
Charlotte wasn't stupid; she knew why Richard and John were
coming to the poxy "meeting".
I mean, "SOS", indeed. What a load of crap that
was! Everyone had known for ages that the school was closing down. Emma and Bryony had to be the only people,
in the whole place, who thought that St. Andrews was worth "saving".
And that was including the teaching staff. Most of
whom, no doubt, had new jobs lined up already, and were simply grateful for the "kick up the backside", which had forced them
all to jump out of their lifeboats - before climbing aboard their various other "unsinkable" vessels.
John was going because Emma was going and Richard
was going on the off-chance that he might catch a glimpse of Bryony's sister.
"I'm sorry, Charlotte. I didn't mean to upset you.
It just seems such a pity, that you won't even-"
"Emma!"
"Okay, okay. I'll shut up about it." Emma shoved
her school uniform into the New Look carrier bag, in which her dress had previously been. She glanced at her watch.
"Shit, is it that late already? Listen, Charlie, I'd better be off. It's my turn to walk the dogs before tea,
and I'll never hear the end of it, if our Rupert gets lumbered three times in one week. Brothers -
honestly, you are so lucky, not to have any. Rupert and the twins do my head in, at times. Anyway, I'll
see you later, at Bry's, okay?"
Rich and John arrived at Bryony's a few minutes late, by
which time the girls were already hard at work, printing off "Save Our School" posters on Bryony's PC.
"Hey, guys - glad you could make it!" yelled Bryony, thankfully
turning the music down a little, as she did so, thus making it just about possible to communicate without shouting.
"What do you think of the posters? Charlotte designed them." She practically shoved one in Richard's face.
Charlotte blushed, as she caught Richard's eye, anxiously
seeking his approval of her sodding computer artwork - which, admittedly, was excellent.
But how to say so - without leading Charlotte to the conclusion
that his body was on today's menu...?
"Yeah, they're quite good," said Richard, reluctantly.
"What are we going to do with them, though?"
"Put them up, of course," answered Emma, sounding a tad
pissed off. As she did, whenever Richard attempted to give her friend the hint.
Girls! Why did Emma have to be stroppy
with Richard? Just because he didn't want to shag her best mate!
If John wouldn't have killed him if he had even looked
in Emma Clark's direction, Rich might actually have considered going out with her for a while. That was, apparently,
the best method for getting birds to stop trying to fix you up with their pals: make them want you for themselves.
It was a tip that Richard had picked up from Steve - one
of his brother's many "gems of wisdom".
"Shit - look at this one!" grumbled Bryony. "The red
ink must be empty, and I haven't got any spare cartridges. How bloody annoying is that?"
"We could take the CD to my place, or Charlotte's,"
suggested Emma. "Print some more out there."
"No, you're all right, Em. We can use my sister's
computer. She won't mind."
"I'll go and ask her," volunteered Richard, possibly a little
too swiftly. Shit, he didn't want to seem that keen. "If you like," he added, attempting to keep his
tone as neutral as possible, and evidently failing dismally, in this respect - judging by the knowing expressions that passed
between Emma and Bryony, and the fact that Charlotte was suddenly so much more interested in studying her own red-and-white
Adidas trainers, than in looking in Richard's direction.
Richard tapped tentatively on Julie's bedroom door.
"What now, Bryony?" The door was flung open so
suddenly, and with such force, that had Richard not been qute so quick to leap out of the way, it could have done him a serious
injury.
"Your relationship with your sister must be about as amicable
as mine with-"
"R-Richard - hi. How are you?"
Fragments of his brother's image stared back at him from
Julie's bed. She was still clutching the scissors in her tiny right hand.
She must have found out about Tara.
"She was supposed to be my friend, as well. Who needs
enemies, right?"
"For what it's worth, I don't know what he sees in her,
anyway."
"You don't?"
"No. She needs to lose a few pounds off her arse,
for starters."
"Cheryl - need to lose weight? That's a good one,
Rich. She needs to do that about as much as Kate Moss does."
Cheryl - her other college "friend"? Julie had only
just found out about her?
Still, Richard was relieved that Julie still didn't know
about Tara. Cheryl had only, as far as Rich knew, been a one-night stand, so Julie would come to terms with that soon
enough. And hopefully the thing with Tara would fizzle out; then, she'd never have to be any the wiser. That had
happened before, hadn't it? Like with Kayleigh, a couple of years ago - who was now married with a kid, and had long
since forgotten about Steve Anderson. No harm done, right?
And, okay, so there was an outside chance that
two-year-old Bonita might be...
"Can I - I mean, we - use your computer?" Richard heard
himself blurting out, after what had been too long a pause in the conversation for him not to say something.
When Julie burst into tears, Rich was that close
to joining her. He knew that he was party to Steve's duplicity, and that was the last thing he wanted. How could
his brother be such a bastard?
