Chapter Eight

 The Winter's Tale 

Mildred played Hermione in Shakespeare’s wintery tale. Darrell could tell, she hated playing the statue. Darrell couldn’t concentrate on the story at all. The difficult Shakespearean verse was not an issue for Darrell, but still she struggled to focus. She was sat beside Sally. When Mildred appeared in any scene, Darrell noticed that Sally would sit forward in her seat and pay a little more attention. This was to be expected. 

    The university theatre was poorly heated. Darrell wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. At the end of the play, Mildred met Sally and Darrell in the dingy foyer. Mildred was accompanied by other members of the cast. Darrell thought it was odd; these people she’d never met, who she had seen performing Shakespeare for two hours, were now standing next to her. ‘We’re going to the Bucket and Moon,’ one of the cast members announced. Mildred cooed. Sally agreed. Darrell noticed how Sally stood close to Mildred as soon as they met after the play. 

    Darrell found herself walking to the pub with the group. 

    ‘Would you believe it?’ a girl called Rachel said, as they walked along the cobbled street to the pub. ‘It’s started to snow. The Gods must’ve seen our play,’ Rachel went on, ‘and they’re pleased with the performances.’ 

    It was at the back of Darrell’s mind that they may bump into John in the Bucket and Moon, but she decided that the chances were so small that she wouldn’t worry about it. She had placed John, for quite some time now, at the back of her mind, and they hadn’t talked for weeks. But, as the old adage goes, things often happen when you least expect it, so when the group of thespians, plus Darrell and Sally, ordered their drinks at the bar, they found themselves right next to John. Darrell tried to stay at the back of the group, but John clocked her eventually. Sally also recognised him. 

    He reached for Darrell’s arm and tugged her to his side. He asked her where she’d been all this time, and why she hadn’t seen him. 

    ‘She’s been busy,’ Sally said, protecting her friend. 

    John turned sharply on Sally. The little scene had drawn the attention of Mildred and her friends. 

    ‘Oh, look,’ John said. ‘It’s the Screw. Good to see you’re keeping my friend under lock and key.’ John turned to his mate at the bar. ‘You see, this one,’ he gestured to Darrell, ‘can screw, but this one,’ he pointed to Sally now, ‘likes to keep a close eye on her, so she doesn’t have too much fun. Or perhaps, I don’t know, they like to fuck together, and that’s why you haven’t fucked me for weeks.’ 

    John still held Darrell by the arm. 

    ‘You’re hurting me John. You’re drunk.’ 

    ‘I know I’m drunk,’ John said, ‘that why I’m here.’ 

    In the corner of her eye, Darrell saw Sally run out of the pub, into the night. 

    ‘You’re a worm,’ Darry said. She conjured a wet globule of saliva in her mouth. She spat it right at John. It hit his cheek. Darrell struggled free and went out of the pub. Mildred had the same idea and followed Darrell out of the place. 

    ‘Where’s she gone?’ Mildred huffed. 

    ‘I don’t know,’ Darrell lied. ‘Home probably.’ 

    Mildred gave Darrell a dirty look. She started to jog away in search of Sally Hope. Of course, Darrell knew where Sally had gone to.

    ‘I thought I’d find you here,’ Darrell said. 

    She sat on the grass beside Sally. They were surrounded by the ruins of St. Andrews Cathedral. 

    ‘Do you remember when we explored this place, last year. We'd just arrived? The whole place seemed so big then.’ 

    ‘Is that what you call me?’ Sally asked. ‘I’m not even sure I know what it means completely, though I know I don’t like it, and I know it’s a pretty awful thing to say.’ Sally got to her feet. ‘You’ve probably told him everything about me, haven’t you? I’m sorry to say, I’m not surprised.’ 

    ‘Stop, Sally, you don’t understand. It’s his insult, not mine.’ 

    ‘But you didn’t stop him,’ Sally argued. 

    Darrell stayed on the grass. The snowfall was gentle. The ruins were peppered white. 

    ‘You know I care very much about you. He would only say those things when we were alone together. He’s a horrid boy, I know that now. I’ve known it for a long time.’ 

    ‘So, that’s it, is it? Whenever you’re with him, you say nasty things about me and have a jolly good laugh.’ 

    ‘Well,’ Darrell said, also getting to her feet. She faced Sally and lost her temper. ‘I suppose you do exactly the same thing with Mildred.’ 

    Sally Hope slapped Darrell's right cheek. 

    ‘I would never say nasty things about you behind your back, Darrell. Mildred didn’t want to ask you to the play tonight. She thinks you’re mean. But I wanted to ask you, because I felt sorry for you, and also,’ Sally paused, and composed herself, ‘because you’re my friend. You mean more to me than you could ever know.’ 

    Darrell thought of Malory Towers. She remembered all the adventures they’d enjoyed together.