malory towers fic | complex | chapter 5
Title: Complex, Chapter 5 (Chapter 1 here)
Fandom: Malory Towers
Pairing: Supposed to be Darrell/Sally, but I don't even know anymore.
Rating: None
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Enid Blyton, or her estate or publishers or whatever, not me.
Words: 3500 approx.
Spoilers: The whole Malory Towers series.
Notes: Malory Towers post-fic, with Darrell, Sally, Alicia and Betty at St Andrews university. This is the last chapter I wrote in my original run at the fic early 2006. I still plan to finish it one of these days.
Chapter 5: recollection & reason (or the lack thereof).
"It's no use!" Moira exclaimed eventually, waving her hands for them to stop. "We simply can't go any further without Bill! Today was clearly marked down for her scenes."
"Well, I'm sure Wilhelmina has a good reason for being abse-"
"Oh do shut up, Saint Catherine!" Moira said, railing as usual against the one girl who ever took the time to be nice to her. "She's slacking off and you bally well know it - and she's doing it on purpose to make me rage, too. You're all the same," she said, waving her hands again, gesturing at the cast and assembled straggle of crew. "I can't understand why you all make excuses for her like this. We're in Fifth Form, for goodness' sake - I've never seen such babies, all following each other around like lost sheep!"
Sally sighed. "I'll go get her," she said, rising from her seat.
"No!" Betty said quickly, standing herself. "You always run off after people, Sal," she explained after a beat. "I'll go."
Betty bustled out, and Alicia, looking rather silly in her dark red Demon King leggings and white school shirt, grinned and cartwheeled out of the room after her.
Moira slumped down next to Darrell, who was furiously scribbling a re-draft of one of the later, less-rehearsed scenes in the Panto. "They needn't both have wandered off, we could have done some juggling practice," she muttered, never content.
"Oh, do buck-up a little, Moira," Darrell murmured good-naturedly, her voice a little distorted by the well-chewed pencil between her teeth. "Everything's going swimmingly really, you know. We're doing fine."
There were few people Moira would suffer telling her to 'buck up' - but forthright, cheerful Darrell Rivers was one of them. She satisfied herself with a sulky grunt, and got up to order around the girls painting flats in the corner.
Meanwhile, Betty was making her way purposefully towards the stables, with Alicia (for once) in tow.
"Seems like a good guess," her friend said, nudging her.
"It's no guess," Betty replied, prodding Alicia back. "I saw Bill and Clarissa sneaking off in their riding gear right after lunch."
"Golly, I wonder at those two, sometimes. I mean, really, Betty, I like you an awful lot, but I think I might strangle you if I spent that much time with just you and a couple of horses for company.
"Well then," the dark-haired girl replied, smirking a little, "I suppose we must own that you and I aren't like Clarissa and Bill."
"And thank God - don't get me wrong: I like horses, but - ho, is that them? I can hear chattering in the stable there."
"Yes, that must be them, shh..."
"Why d'you want me to sh-" Alicia stopped talking as Betty gestured again for silence, and mimed buttoning her lip. "But why?" she whispered, stepping closer as they waited by the door of the stable. "Are we going to jump out at them? Do you want me to juggle horseshoes? I bet I could..."
"Don't you dare!" Betty replied in a fierce whisper. "I just don't want to interrupt them!"
"What could they possibly be discussing that we couldn't interrupt them? Listen, they aren't even talking anymore... just rustling around in the stable... come on-"
And before Betty could catch her, Alicia had strolled round the doorway and into the stable.
There was a momentary silence. And then Alicia walked straight back out, her eyes wide, her face blank, and promptly exited the stable yard, almost at a run.
"I told you to be quiet and wait! I told you, but would you listen?"
The two girls were striding back across the playing field towards North Tower, this time with Betty almost running at Alicia's heels.
"Wait for what? Were you going to listen to them..." Alicia's cheeks were pink with embarrassment and fury at being 'put' in such a situation. Imagine catching Clarissa and Bill... she shuddered.
"No, don't be silly, I'm sure they don't-" Come to think of it, Betty had no idea what Clarissa and Bill did and didn't. She just knew better than to walk in on them right after they got back from a long ride.
"Well, I think it's ridiculous. They shouldn't be putting up with that sort of behaviour at Malory Towers, it's immoral!" Alicia wrapped her arms around herself protectively, putting yet more speed into her stride.
"You sound like Gwendoline!" Betty exclaimed, incredulous at Alicia's reaction. Truth be told, she was amazed that Alicia didn't already know about Clarissa and Bill's special friendship. Girls like Mary Lou, perhaps, and Gwendoline, were oblivious to such things, but Alicia? Worldly, knowing Alicia?
"Better to be like Gwendoline than like... Golly..." Alicia said, shaking her head as if to clear it, slowing her pace a little. "Well, they're our friends, I suppose, and so we must treat them as normal," she said eventually, obviously coming to a decision on the topic.
"Of course," Betty said, frowning. "We all have been forever, Alicia. You are stupid."
"Shut up! I'll hear no more about it. Let's just forget it, all right?"
Betty sighed. Clearly Alicia was going to speak little sense on this topic. "All right," she said.
And so it was. Alicia never mentioned Clarissa and Bill again, and, true to her word, treated the pair no differently for the whole remainder of their time at Malory Towers. But she did not forget it, either.
In her guiltiest moments, late at night in the dorms, unable to sleep, she would find her short glimpse of the two girls in the stable swimming back to the surface of her mind, playing itself out over and over again. At her weakest, she found herself in the strange position of visualising herself as Clarissa, pressed up against the stable wall, her own hands raking through dark curly hair - though she knew instinctively, without even seeing the girl's face, that she was not Bill. Sometimes she thought for a moment that it might be Betty, but no, this girl was taller, more tanned, a little more athletic in build.
The girl was Darrell Rivers.
Alicia woke that morning with a start, her pulse still racing. It was only natural, of course, that that old dream should come back to her after the previous night, but she still thought it rather cruel for her mind to torment her so - she already felt quite silly enough.
Betty was already awake, and staring at her from the other bed. "What were you dreaming about, 'Licia?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.
"Nothing. I don't remember," Alicia said quickly, jumping out of bed. "I'm going for a shower."
"How d'you feel? You deserve a splitting headache - you woke me up last night clattering around the room you were so drunk," Betty said matter-of-factly.
"Shut up. Besides, you know very well I don't get headaches."
"No, I get them double for you sake, as has been well-established in the past, you beast."
"Wimp!"
"Drunkard!"
In response to this, Alicia simply threw a pillow at Betty, and left the room, grabbing a towel as she went.
Back in Wardlaw Wing, Darrell woke before Sally did with the headache Alicia deserved. She stared at the ceiling, groaning inwardly and willing the room to stay in one place for several minutes before she felt able to get out of bed. Her condition was not helped by the fact that it must have taken her at least two hours to get to sleep the previous night, her night with Alicia - in particular its conclusion of course - running wildly through her head until she thought it might simply explode.
She moved stiffly about the room, gathering her things together, tidying away the clothes she had so hastily taken off the previous night (wrinkling her nose at the faint aroma of smoke that still hung on them from the Tudor), laying out a fresh blouse and trousers - no, a skirt today, she decided impulsively - to wear when she got back from her shower.
It was then that Sally caught her eye. The girl was curled up like a small animal in her bed, her bed-covers gathered tightly around her. "All wrapped up," Darrell murmured to herself, realising how apt this was for Sally. She found herself moving to kneel by the bed, examining her best friend's sleeping features. Even asleep, Sally's face was a picture of concentration. Darrell rubbed her nose, frowning to herself, wishing not for the first time that she had a little of Sally's concentration, her self-control, at least when it really counted. "Oh Sally..." she muttered, her hand moving of its own accord to her friend's cheek.
"Mph?" came the response, and Sally's eyes fluttered open, widening as she found Darrell gazing back at her. "What's wrong?" she said immediately, concerned that Darrell had woken her due to some emergency, or perhaps some awful news.
"Oh, nothing, nothing..." Darrell said quickly, drawing her hand back. Then, keen for some excuse for her position kneeling by Sally's bed, "Only, do you have aspirin or something? I have the worst headache..."
Sally frowned. "That's not like you..." she said, immediately sitting up and opening the drawer in her bedside table and sifting through it, finding the tablets in seconds. "Are you running a fever?"
"No, no..." Darrell flushed a little. "I'm afraid I drank a little more than usual last night. Alicia and I were talking, and the third one rolled around and we were just having such a nice time..." She rubbed her nose again.
Sally looked like she'd been slapped, handing the tub of pills to Darrell mutely. Darrell had hobbled over to the sink, filled a glass with water, and returned to sit on her own bed, opposite Sally, before her best friend found her voice again.
"You... you went to the Tudor with Alicia?"
Darrell nodded, then groaned, and popped two aspirin in her mouth, taking a long drink of water to swallow them.
"On a school night?"
Darrell nodded again. "Well, it seemed to make sense at the time... She was so nice - apologised for being mean about you and everything, and she pointed out that today was a half day, and- Oh Lord, I wish it wasn't the first half, though," she commented wryly, sipping at her water.
Sally was still frowning. "Wait. You went out... to the Tudor... with Alicia... because she apologised to you for being mean about me..." Her voice quivered a little, though whether it was from hurt or fury was anyone's guess.
"Yes, yes, it was stupid. Dear Sally, please don't be angry with me. At least not until later. I couldn't bear it - my head might explode" Darrell closed her eyes for a moment, finding some interesting colours behind her lids this morning.
"Don't be angry..." Sally's voice was tight, controlled,almost expressionless. She stood. "I'm going for a shower. You can take another couple of aspirin for later if you think you'll need them."
"Thanks... thanks... Sally, I-"
But Sally was gone. Darrell fell back onto the bed, on her back, and stared at the ceiling once more. Honestly, she did feel awful about this whole business, but it was so hard to concentrate on more than one thing at once right now, and on balance she thought that perhaps her current focus should be surviving until the day's classes ended at 1pm.
Sally scrubbed her skin almost until it was raw in the shower, the water a perfect camoflage for her tears. How could she? How could she just run off to the Tudor with Alicia Johns when she, Sally, was stuck in her room studying? She'd gone to bed so early the previous night that she hadn't expected Darrell to be back - she'd thought nothing of it. And she had been drinking with Alicia? Enjoying the hateful girl's company so much that she had stayed beyond their usual two drinks? What could they possibly have had to say to each other? Indeed, they must have been talking about her - about Sally, and how strange she was, and clingy, and jealous. Well, no wonder. Oh Lord, it was like Third Form all over again - how could she bear it? She sniffed, and water went up her nose, making her sneeze violently, several times. Once her sneezing abated, though, she found that she was no longer crying, and, skin smarting, she wrapped a towel around herself, gathered her night clothes together, and almost ran back to their room - it was awfully cold, even indoors, at this time of year in St Andrews, particularly with the sea-wind rattling Wardlaw Wing's old, warped windows.
Darrell was still there, looking a little more awake now, gathering her day's notebooks together as she awaited Sally's return.
"Didn't want to follow you into the shower in case you were mad with me," she explained in her usual honest manner, standing and folding her own towel over her arm.
"I'm not," Sally said, internally horrified to find that her voice was a little shaky. She was glad Darrell hadn't followed her into the shower block that morning, though not so much because she was angry with her as due to her discomfort around Darrell in such situations - a discomfort which had risen to new heights of late, much to Sally's dismay. Remembering this, she said, "Well, you'd better go and shower now, then, and let me dress in peace."
Darrell nodded slowly. "Of course. One thing, though, Sally," she said, taking a deep breath. The sooner she told Sally about this, the better, she thought, no matter how hard it was. "Something happened last night that I wanted to tell you about. Alicia and I-"
"I don't want to know anything more about you and Alicia," Sally cut in sharply. She didn't want to hear about their conversations, could not stand to listen to Darrell relating how they'd discussed her, no doubt in an unfavourable light. It was just too much.
"No, you don't understand, we-"
"No more, Darrell. Please. Just go and have your shower, wouldn't you?"
Darrell looked almost desperate to tell Sally whatever-it-was, but instead did as she was told, departing for the showers.
Sally dressed as quickly as she could, scraped her damp hair into a severe bun, and left for campus - though her first class wasn't for nearly an hour. Darrell would have to breakfast alone that morning. She could not, simply would not sit opposite the girl who had spent the previous night listening to the vile Alicia Johns spouting her usual venom and mean-spirit into the world. Honestly, she wished so very much that the girl had gone to some other university. She'd been accepted at Cambridge, Sally remembered suddenly, but had turned it down. "If they won't take Betty, they can't have me either," Alicia had said blithly, linking her arm through her best friend's. Though now Sally recalled that evening, at that moment, wasn't Alicia looking at Darrell?
The day passed all too slowly for Darrell. She felt sure she hadn't heard half what her lecturers said, and her notes were even more of a scribbled mess than usual. Her one comfort was that she knew where Alicia's last class ended, and if she was quick, she could catch her on the way back to Hall and ask her whatever she had meant by kissing her.
Of course, when she walked out to catch Alicia on her way back from Maths, she instead saw Betty walking alone, her thick coat pulled close around her to keep out the winter gale.
"Where's Alicia?" Darrel enquired.
Betty snorted. "Catch her at lectures after a night like that? She's probably in bed reading bad mock-period fiction."
"Oh..." was Darrell's only response. She fell into step with Betty, attempting to brush her hair out of her eyes (unsuccessfully) before asking. "Would it be all right, d'you think, if I..."
"Hm? Oh, by all means, go speak to her," Betty said, chuckling. "Although if you take my advice you'll go nowhere near her when she's in one of those moods - I don't. You can find me in the common room with a cold compress after she's thrown a tennis ball at your head."
As Darrell approached Alicia's room she could hear the rhythmic thumping sound from half way down the corridor, and silently thanked the heavens that her headache of that morning had largely abated. As she knocked on the door, calling, "It's Darrell," the thumping stopped. Darrell took this as a sign that she could enter, although just as she did a tennis ball sailed perilously close to her head on its route to the wall and back into Alicia's waiting hand.
"Sorry," Alicia said cheerfully, not sounding sorry at all. She was sitting up in bed, clad still in pyjamas, one of the offending pulp novels lying open, face down, on her lap. "You went to class," she commented conversationally. "I'm impressed."
"I always go to class," Darrell said matter-of-factly, shedding her coat and collapsing into the one easy chair in the room. "Though I must say it's left me half-dead. I had the Devil of headaches this morning..."
Alicia only chuckled, throwing the tennis ball onto Betty's bed and hugging her knees to her chest. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Well," Darrell began, then scratched her nose, pausing. Then she tried again, this time standing up and walking to Alicia's bedside, as if to give herself strength in the extra altitude. "Look here, Alicia, I wanted to know what you meant by kissing me like that," she said eventually, blurting it out all at once. Darrell never could abide beating about the bush.
"Like what, exactly?" Alicia said innocently.
The taller girl made a sound of frustration, sitting down heavily on Betty's bed. "You know... the way you did. On the lips like that. The way a boy would."
"I seem to remember you kissing me that way, too," Alicia commented, stretching her arms and legs lazily before slumping back comfortably in her bed, crossing her legs at the ankle.
"Well, maybe I did," Darrell admitted, never one for pretence. "And I don't know why... But hang it all, Alicia, you kissed me first!"
"Which in a coutroom of five year olds might hold water," her friend retorted, "but we aren't five. And for what it's worth, you aren't on trial." Alicia appeared entirely at ease with this strange situation, though Darrell felt sure somehow that, underneath, Alicia must be just as confused as she was - surely?
"Oh come on, Alicia!" she exclaimed. "What on earth is going on? Can't you just be straight with me for once? Please."
Alicia smirked. "What do you want to hear from me, Darrell? That I slipped and fell against you? It happened. I can't do anything about it now - and nor can you, not even if you want to."
"I..." What did Darrell want? She wasn't sure. This morning things had been simple. Guilt, remorse, the need to confess to Sally, the conviction that it had been some horrible misunderstanding or mistake... but here was Alicia, sitting there in her pyjamas, hair touseled and eyes heavy-lidded from her day in bed, smiling at her in that lopsided way she did when she had some private joke she wouldn't share, that look that Darrell had never quite been able to read or understand...
And so, when Alicia held out her hand, Darrell just took it, and let herself be pulled over to sit by Alicia on her bed. Reason told her that this was not a good time to sit close to Alicia, but then, she wasn't thinking terribly straight today.
Perhaps this was why when Alicia leant in and kissed her again, in full daylight, complete sobriety, and indoors, Darrell reacted on instinct rather than reason. It was instinctive, she told herself later, to kiss Alicia back. Instinct that parted her lips, that wove her fingers through Alicia's hair, that made her heart race with excitement and anticipation.
"This must be some kind of misunderstanding," she whispered when they finally pulled apart, and time went back to its ordinary, humdrum pace - when she was able to think again.
"I don't think that's true at all," Alicia murmured, her breath tickling Darrell's skin. "The fact is, it's done, and I mean to keep doing it, over and over again, until the day you don't want me to."
"I don't want you to. I don't." Darrell said, their foreheads pressing together, her eyes tightly shut in concentration.
"Saying it doesn't make it true," Alicia retorted. And of course she was right.
continued here
Fandom: Malory Towers
Pairing: Supposed to be Darrell/Sally, but I don't even know anymore.
Rating: None
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Enid Blyton, or her estate or publishers or whatever, not me.
Words: 3500 approx.
Spoilers: The whole Malory Towers series.
Notes: Malory Towers post-fic, with Darrell, Sally, Alicia and Betty at St Andrews university. This is the last chapter I wrote in my original run at the fic early 2006. I still plan to finish it one of these days.
Chapter 5: recollection & reason (or the lack thereof).
"It's no use!" Moira exclaimed eventually, waving her hands for them to stop. "We simply can't go any further without Bill! Today was clearly marked down for her scenes."
"Well, I'm sure Wilhelmina has a good reason for being abse-"
"Oh do shut up, Saint Catherine!" Moira said, railing as usual against the one girl who ever took the time to be nice to her. "She's slacking off and you bally well know it - and she's doing it on purpose to make me rage, too. You're all the same," she said, waving her hands again, gesturing at the cast and assembled straggle of crew. "I can't understand why you all make excuses for her like this. We're in Fifth Form, for goodness' sake - I've never seen such babies, all following each other around like lost sheep!"
Sally sighed. "I'll go get her," she said, rising from her seat.
"No!" Betty said quickly, standing herself. "You always run off after people, Sal," she explained after a beat. "I'll go."
Betty bustled out, and Alicia, looking rather silly in her dark red Demon King leggings and white school shirt, grinned and cartwheeled out of the room after her.
Moira slumped down next to Darrell, who was furiously scribbling a re-draft of one of the later, less-rehearsed scenes in the Panto. "They needn't both have wandered off, we could have done some juggling practice," she muttered, never content.
"Oh, do buck-up a little, Moira," Darrell murmured good-naturedly, her voice a little distorted by the well-chewed pencil between her teeth. "Everything's going swimmingly really, you know. We're doing fine."
There were few people Moira would suffer telling her to 'buck up' - but forthright, cheerful Darrell Rivers was one of them. She satisfied herself with a sulky grunt, and got up to order around the girls painting flats in the corner.
Meanwhile, Betty was making her way purposefully towards the stables, with Alicia (for once) in tow.
"Seems like a good guess," her friend said, nudging her.
"It's no guess," Betty replied, prodding Alicia back. "I saw Bill and Clarissa sneaking off in their riding gear right after lunch."
"Golly, I wonder at those two, sometimes. I mean, really, Betty, I like you an awful lot, but I think I might strangle you if I spent that much time with just you and a couple of horses for company.
"Well then," the dark-haired girl replied, smirking a little, "I suppose we must own that you and I aren't like Clarissa and Bill."
"And thank God - don't get me wrong: I like horses, but - ho, is that them? I can hear chattering in the stable there."
"Yes, that must be them, shh..."
"Why d'you want me to sh-" Alicia stopped talking as Betty gestured again for silence, and mimed buttoning her lip. "But why?" she whispered, stepping closer as they waited by the door of the stable. "Are we going to jump out at them? Do you want me to juggle horseshoes? I bet I could..."
"Don't you dare!" Betty replied in a fierce whisper. "I just don't want to interrupt them!"
"What could they possibly be discussing that we couldn't interrupt them? Listen, they aren't even talking anymore... just rustling around in the stable... come on-"
And before Betty could catch her, Alicia had strolled round the doorway and into the stable.
There was a momentary silence. And then Alicia walked straight back out, her eyes wide, her face blank, and promptly exited the stable yard, almost at a run.
"I told you to be quiet and wait! I told you, but would you listen?"
The two girls were striding back across the playing field towards North Tower, this time with Betty almost running at Alicia's heels.
"Wait for what? Were you going to listen to them..." Alicia's cheeks were pink with embarrassment and fury at being 'put' in such a situation. Imagine catching Clarissa and Bill... she shuddered.
"No, don't be silly, I'm sure they don't-" Come to think of it, Betty had no idea what Clarissa and Bill did and didn't. She just knew better than to walk in on them right after they got back from a long ride.
"Well, I think it's ridiculous. They shouldn't be putting up with that sort of behaviour at Malory Towers, it's immoral!" Alicia wrapped her arms around herself protectively, putting yet more speed into her stride.
"You sound like Gwendoline!" Betty exclaimed, incredulous at Alicia's reaction. Truth be told, she was amazed that Alicia didn't already know about Clarissa and Bill's special friendship. Girls like Mary Lou, perhaps, and Gwendoline, were oblivious to such things, but Alicia? Worldly, knowing Alicia?
"Better to be like Gwendoline than like... Golly..." Alicia said, shaking her head as if to clear it, slowing her pace a little. "Well, they're our friends, I suppose, and so we must treat them as normal," she said eventually, obviously coming to a decision on the topic.
"Of course," Betty said, frowning. "We all have been forever, Alicia. You are stupid."
"Shut up! I'll hear no more about it. Let's just forget it, all right?"
Betty sighed. Clearly Alicia was going to speak little sense on this topic. "All right," she said.
And so it was. Alicia never mentioned Clarissa and Bill again, and, true to her word, treated the pair no differently for the whole remainder of their time at Malory Towers. But she did not forget it, either.
In her guiltiest moments, late at night in the dorms, unable to sleep, she would find her short glimpse of the two girls in the stable swimming back to the surface of her mind, playing itself out over and over again. At her weakest, she found herself in the strange position of visualising herself as Clarissa, pressed up against the stable wall, her own hands raking through dark curly hair - though she knew instinctively, without even seeing the girl's face, that she was not Bill. Sometimes she thought for a moment that it might be Betty, but no, this girl was taller, more tanned, a little more athletic in build.
The girl was Darrell Rivers.
Alicia woke that morning with a start, her pulse still racing. It was only natural, of course, that that old dream should come back to her after the previous night, but she still thought it rather cruel for her mind to torment her so - she already felt quite silly enough.
Betty was already awake, and staring at her from the other bed. "What were you dreaming about, 'Licia?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.
"Nothing. I don't remember," Alicia said quickly, jumping out of bed. "I'm going for a shower."
"How d'you feel? You deserve a splitting headache - you woke me up last night clattering around the room you were so drunk," Betty said matter-of-factly.
"Shut up. Besides, you know very well I don't get headaches."
"No, I get them double for you sake, as has been well-established in the past, you beast."
"Wimp!"
"Drunkard!"
In response to this, Alicia simply threw a pillow at Betty, and left the room, grabbing a towel as she went.
Back in Wardlaw Wing, Darrell woke before Sally did with the headache Alicia deserved. She stared at the ceiling, groaning inwardly and willing the room to stay in one place for several minutes before she felt able to get out of bed. Her condition was not helped by the fact that it must have taken her at least two hours to get to sleep the previous night, her night with Alicia - in particular its conclusion of course - running wildly through her head until she thought it might simply explode.
She moved stiffly about the room, gathering her things together, tidying away the clothes she had so hastily taken off the previous night (wrinkling her nose at the faint aroma of smoke that still hung on them from the Tudor), laying out a fresh blouse and trousers - no, a skirt today, she decided impulsively - to wear when she got back from her shower.
It was then that Sally caught her eye. The girl was curled up like a small animal in her bed, her bed-covers gathered tightly around her. "All wrapped up," Darrell murmured to herself, realising how apt this was for Sally. She found herself moving to kneel by the bed, examining her best friend's sleeping features. Even asleep, Sally's face was a picture of concentration. Darrell rubbed her nose, frowning to herself, wishing not for the first time that she had a little of Sally's concentration, her self-control, at least when it really counted. "Oh Sally..." she muttered, her hand moving of its own accord to her friend's cheek.
"Mph?" came the response, and Sally's eyes fluttered open, widening as she found Darrell gazing back at her. "What's wrong?" she said immediately, concerned that Darrell had woken her due to some emergency, or perhaps some awful news.
"Oh, nothing, nothing..." Darrell said quickly, drawing her hand back. Then, keen for some excuse for her position kneeling by Sally's bed, "Only, do you have aspirin or something? I have the worst headache..."
Sally frowned. "That's not like you..." she said, immediately sitting up and opening the drawer in her bedside table and sifting through it, finding the tablets in seconds. "Are you running a fever?"
"No, no..." Darrell flushed a little. "I'm afraid I drank a little more than usual last night. Alicia and I were talking, and the third one rolled around and we were just having such a nice time..." She rubbed her nose again.
Sally looked like she'd been slapped, handing the tub of pills to Darrell mutely. Darrell had hobbled over to the sink, filled a glass with water, and returned to sit on her own bed, opposite Sally, before her best friend found her voice again.
"You... you went to the Tudor with Alicia?"
Darrell nodded, then groaned, and popped two aspirin in her mouth, taking a long drink of water to swallow them.
"On a school night?"
Darrell nodded again. "Well, it seemed to make sense at the time... She was so nice - apologised for being mean about you and everything, and she pointed out that today was a half day, and- Oh Lord, I wish it wasn't the first half, though," she commented wryly, sipping at her water.
Sally was still frowning. "Wait. You went out... to the Tudor... with Alicia... because she apologised to you for being mean about me..." Her voice quivered a little, though whether it was from hurt or fury was anyone's guess.
"Yes, yes, it was stupid. Dear Sally, please don't be angry with me. At least not until later. I couldn't bear it - my head might explode" Darrell closed her eyes for a moment, finding some interesting colours behind her lids this morning.
"Don't be angry..." Sally's voice was tight, controlled,almost expressionless. She stood. "I'm going for a shower. You can take another couple of aspirin for later if you think you'll need them."
"Thanks... thanks... Sally, I-"
But Sally was gone. Darrell fell back onto the bed, on her back, and stared at the ceiling once more. Honestly, she did feel awful about this whole business, but it was so hard to concentrate on more than one thing at once right now, and on balance she thought that perhaps her current focus should be surviving until the day's classes ended at 1pm.
Sally scrubbed her skin almost until it was raw in the shower, the water a perfect camoflage for her tears. How could she? How could she just run off to the Tudor with Alicia Johns when she, Sally, was stuck in her room studying? She'd gone to bed so early the previous night that she hadn't expected Darrell to be back - she'd thought nothing of it. And she had been drinking with Alicia? Enjoying the hateful girl's company so much that she had stayed beyond their usual two drinks? What could they possibly have had to say to each other? Indeed, they must have been talking about her - about Sally, and how strange she was, and clingy, and jealous. Well, no wonder. Oh Lord, it was like Third Form all over again - how could she bear it? She sniffed, and water went up her nose, making her sneeze violently, several times. Once her sneezing abated, though, she found that she was no longer crying, and, skin smarting, she wrapped a towel around herself, gathered her night clothes together, and almost ran back to their room - it was awfully cold, even indoors, at this time of year in St Andrews, particularly with the sea-wind rattling Wardlaw Wing's old, warped windows.
Darrell was still there, looking a little more awake now, gathering her day's notebooks together as she awaited Sally's return.
"Didn't want to follow you into the shower in case you were mad with me," she explained in her usual honest manner, standing and folding her own towel over her arm.
"I'm not," Sally said, internally horrified to find that her voice was a little shaky. She was glad Darrell hadn't followed her into the shower block that morning, though not so much because she was angry with her as due to her discomfort around Darrell in such situations - a discomfort which had risen to new heights of late, much to Sally's dismay. Remembering this, she said, "Well, you'd better go and shower now, then, and let me dress in peace."
Darrell nodded slowly. "Of course. One thing, though, Sally," she said, taking a deep breath. The sooner she told Sally about this, the better, she thought, no matter how hard it was. "Something happened last night that I wanted to tell you about. Alicia and I-"
"I don't want to know anything more about you and Alicia," Sally cut in sharply. She didn't want to hear about their conversations, could not stand to listen to Darrell relating how they'd discussed her, no doubt in an unfavourable light. It was just too much.
"No, you don't understand, we-"
"No more, Darrell. Please. Just go and have your shower, wouldn't you?"
Darrell looked almost desperate to tell Sally whatever-it-was, but instead did as she was told, departing for the showers.
Sally dressed as quickly as she could, scraped her damp hair into a severe bun, and left for campus - though her first class wasn't for nearly an hour. Darrell would have to breakfast alone that morning. She could not, simply would not sit opposite the girl who had spent the previous night listening to the vile Alicia Johns spouting her usual venom and mean-spirit into the world. Honestly, she wished so very much that the girl had gone to some other university. She'd been accepted at Cambridge, Sally remembered suddenly, but had turned it down. "If they won't take Betty, they can't have me either," Alicia had said blithly, linking her arm through her best friend's. Though now Sally recalled that evening, at that moment, wasn't Alicia looking at Darrell?
The day passed all too slowly for Darrell. She felt sure she hadn't heard half what her lecturers said, and her notes were even more of a scribbled mess than usual. Her one comfort was that she knew where Alicia's last class ended, and if she was quick, she could catch her on the way back to Hall and ask her whatever she had meant by kissing her.
Of course, when she walked out to catch Alicia on her way back from Maths, she instead saw Betty walking alone, her thick coat pulled close around her to keep out the winter gale.
"Where's Alicia?" Darrel enquired.
Betty snorted. "Catch her at lectures after a night like that? She's probably in bed reading bad mock-period fiction."
"Oh..." was Darrell's only response. She fell into step with Betty, attempting to brush her hair out of her eyes (unsuccessfully) before asking. "Would it be all right, d'you think, if I..."
"Hm? Oh, by all means, go speak to her," Betty said, chuckling. "Although if you take my advice you'll go nowhere near her when she's in one of those moods - I don't. You can find me in the common room with a cold compress after she's thrown a tennis ball at your head."
As Darrell approached Alicia's room she could hear the rhythmic thumping sound from half way down the corridor, and silently thanked the heavens that her headache of that morning had largely abated. As she knocked on the door, calling, "It's Darrell," the thumping stopped. Darrell took this as a sign that she could enter, although just as she did a tennis ball sailed perilously close to her head on its route to the wall and back into Alicia's waiting hand.
"Sorry," Alicia said cheerfully, not sounding sorry at all. She was sitting up in bed, clad still in pyjamas, one of the offending pulp novels lying open, face down, on her lap. "You went to class," she commented conversationally. "I'm impressed."
"I always go to class," Darrell said matter-of-factly, shedding her coat and collapsing into the one easy chair in the room. "Though I must say it's left me half-dead. I had the Devil of headaches this morning..."
Alicia only chuckled, throwing the tennis ball onto Betty's bed and hugging her knees to her chest. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Well," Darrell began, then scratched her nose, pausing. Then she tried again, this time standing up and walking to Alicia's bedside, as if to give herself strength in the extra altitude. "Look here, Alicia, I wanted to know what you meant by kissing me like that," she said eventually, blurting it out all at once. Darrell never could abide beating about the bush.
"Like what, exactly?" Alicia said innocently.
The taller girl made a sound of frustration, sitting down heavily on Betty's bed. "You know... the way you did. On the lips like that. The way a boy would."
"I seem to remember you kissing me that way, too," Alicia commented, stretching her arms and legs lazily before slumping back comfortably in her bed, crossing her legs at the ankle.
"Well, maybe I did," Darrell admitted, never one for pretence. "And I don't know why... But hang it all, Alicia, you kissed me first!"
"Which in a coutroom of five year olds might hold water," her friend retorted, "but we aren't five. And for what it's worth, you aren't on trial." Alicia appeared entirely at ease with this strange situation, though Darrell felt sure somehow that, underneath, Alicia must be just as confused as she was - surely?
"Oh come on, Alicia!" she exclaimed. "What on earth is going on? Can't you just be straight with me for once? Please."
Alicia smirked. "What do you want to hear from me, Darrell? That I slipped and fell against you? It happened. I can't do anything about it now - and nor can you, not even if you want to."
"I..." What did Darrell want? She wasn't sure. This morning things had been simple. Guilt, remorse, the need to confess to Sally, the conviction that it had been some horrible misunderstanding or mistake... but here was Alicia, sitting there in her pyjamas, hair touseled and eyes heavy-lidded from her day in bed, smiling at her in that lopsided way she did when she had some private joke she wouldn't share, that look that Darrell had never quite been able to read or understand...
And so, when Alicia held out her hand, Darrell just took it, and let herself be pulled over to sit by Alicia on her bed. Reason told her that this was not a good time to sit close to Alicia, but then, she wasn't thinking terribly straight today.
Perhaps this was why when Alicia leant in and kissed her again, in full daylight, complete sobriety, and indoors, Darrell reacted on instinct rather than reason. It was instinctive, she told herself later, to kiss Alicia back. Instinct that parted her lips, that wove her fingers through Alicia's hair, that made her heart race with excitement and anticipation.
"This must be some kind of misunderstanding," she whispered when they finally pulled apart, and time went back to its ordinary, humdrum pace - when she was able to think again.
"I don't think that's true at all," Alicia murmured, her breath tickling Darrell's skin. "The fact is, it's done, and I mean to keep doing it, over and over again, until the day you don't want me to."
"I don't want you to. I don't." Darrell said, their foreheads pressing together, her eyes tightly shut in concentration.
"Saying it doesn't make it true," Alicia retorted. And of course she was right.
continued here