malory towers fic | complex | chapter 6
Title: Complex, Chapter 6 (Chapter 1 here)
Fandom: Malory Towers
Pairing: God, who knows. Alicia/Darrell/Sally. Not all at once. I don't think.
Rating: None
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Enid Blyton, or her estate or publishers or whatever, not me.
Words: 2000-ish.
Spoilers: The whole Malory Towers series.
Notes: Malory Towers post-fic, with Darrell, Sally, Alicia and Betty at St Andrews university. I last updated this in early 2006. Here, three years later, is a continuation. Let's see if I can keep it up this time.
Chapter 6, in which people fail to communicate in a most infuriating fashion.
Darrell's face was still burning as she emerged from Alicia's dorm room, her footsteps clattering extra noisily in her ears, somehow, as she made her way down the airy back stairwell of the hall and into the cold December air. She rubbed her nose furiously before pulling her scarf up over it, partly to hide her pink cheeks (though most of the students she passed were similarly flushed, in their case from the cold).
It had been three weeks since that fateful evening in the Tudor with Alicia, and the encounter that had followed it the next morning. Since then, Darrell had learned an awful lot, both about Alicia and about herself.
Alicia Johns had been true to her word - infuriatingly so. Though Darrell had made every effort to avoid her friend for several days following 'the incident' (as she couldn't help but think of it now), it had all been in vain, for the next time she did run into her - in the main library, in point of fact - she'd found herself dragged between a particularly quiet set of stacks holding dusty music manuscripts and pressed up against Bach and Bartók. Alicia had muttered a quick 'hallo', and kissed Darrell without further preamble. Darrell had only briefly considered struggling.
And so it had continued - in the library, in their dorm rooms when one or the other of their room-mates was absent - even once out at East Sands, the bitter cold making them pull all the closer, though the beach was rarely deserted even at this time of year. The pair didn't talk anymore - for what would they have had to talk about? Darrell's days were spent studying for the next month's exams and trying to ignore the coolness that had crept up between herself and Sally. Her nights were spent tossing and turning in bed, or simply lying still, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, too warm despite the cold weather and ill-fitting windows, burning with frustration, guilt, and something else, a growing, itching sensation of anticipation - one she was determined not to surrender to.
A bitter wind was blowing outside, and Darrell jammed her hands into the deep pockets of her cashmere overcoat, hunching her shoulders against the cold. She felt the tips of her uncovered ears freezing, her hair whipping around her face, and wished she'd worn a hat. It was only a five minute walk back to Wardlaw, but she'd be chilled to the bone by the time she got there.
And it isn't as though I can expect a warm reception when I get there.
Darrell had tried to talk to Sally again, once or twice, but her friend had become adept at avoiding any attempts to do so. Sally seemed determined that whatever Darrell had to say to her, she did not want to hear, and eventually Darrell had simply had to give up. They had continued to share their free time (when they were not studying), still eating breakfast together and occasionally visiting the Tudor, but things had most definitely changed. Sally, constant, steadfast Sally, had become secretive and solitary, often absent from morning to supper without any word as to where she'd been or what she'd been doing, answering only that she was 'studying' if Darrell asked.
In truth, Sally Hope was doing an awful lot of studying, throwing herself into her university work in a obsessive, single-minded way that impressed but concerned her tutors, resulting, just before Christmas, in a visit from her academic mother.
Mhairi hadn't seen much of her academic daughters since Raisin Weekend, her own exam schedule looming just as theirs was, but a conversation one evening with her housemate Ellen, who happened to lead one of Sally's Literature seminars, prompted her to seek Sally out.
"Honestly, I know that a student working hard shouldn't worry me, but she seems so... closed-off," Ellen had said over their shared bottle of wine that evening. "She was never particularly talkative, not like Darrell, but she's as silent as the grave now - turns all her work in, excellent as always, but she never puts her hand up in class anymore, and she seems so sad all the time. See what's eating her, will you? She's a good kid, would be a shame to see her, I don't know, burn out or somesuch."
Tonight Sally was in the Wardlaw Wing common room, but not attached at the hip to Darrell Rivers as she had been last time Mhairi had seen her. She was alone in a quiet corner, pouring over a course textbook.
"Long time no see," Mhairi opened, a little awkwardly, as she approached. It was obvious that the younger woman didn't want to be interrupted.
Sally glanced up with a slight start, her pale cheeks accented asymmetrically with a rosy glow on the side nearest the roaring fire. Clearly she'd been there some time. "Oh, Mhairi. Hallo there."
"Mind if I sit?" Mhairi didn't wait for Sally to answer, instead maneuvering herself into the seat opposite. She cleared her throat. "Look here," she said. "I'm no good at beating around the bush or what-have-you - I'm afraid it's just not in me. So here it is. Ellen was worried about you, thinks you've gone a bit quiet lately. I thought I'd come see what was up."
Sally almost laughed. The fourth year's straightforward, no-nonsense manner was so very like Darrell's that she instinctively grinned. Then she remembered how things were with Darrell right now, and the expression fell away, her closed countenance returning.
Mhairi, who had felt a spark of hope at Sally's initial reaction, felt her heart sink a little. "That bad?" She reached a hand out to cover Sally's where it lay over her now face-down book. "Sally, I know it sounds trite, but you really can talk to me - it's what I'm here for. Whatever it is."
The dark-haired girl closed her eyes against the tears that had suddenly sprung up in them. "I... it's Darrell."
"Darrell?" Mhairi frowned. That was a little surprising. Of course she knew that people changed at university, and some hard-and-fast friendships did not stay the course, as it were, but she would never have considered that the bond between Darrell Rivers and Sally Hope would have broken. She supposed she should be relieved - she had worried that it was some family or health issue that had Sally so downhearted, but still, she supposed that out here, all by herself, so far from her family, drifting away from Darrell would be rather stressful and disheartening. "Aren't you two getting along?"
"We're..." Sally frowned. What could she say? She knew that Darrell had done nothing to deserve the coolness that was being heaped upon her, whatever the hateful Alicia Johns was saying behind her back. Darrell had been, if anything, more attentive than ever in the decreasing time they spent together. It was nothing that Darrell had done that was eating away at Sally but what she had not done - and most certainly would not do. Sally had only recently admitted to herself exactly what it was she needed from Darrell Rivers, and with it had come the crushing realisation that this was one step too far, even for them.
Sally sighed. She couldn't even begin to explain. "We've been rather busy lately."
Mhairi had been watching Sally's face during the pause with interest, her brow drawing together thoughtfully. There was most definitely something going on there that was making Sally feel utterly wretched, but damned if she knew what. She simply nodded. "Are you two spending any of the vac together?"
"Christmas. I'm supposed to spend Christmas with her family." Sally's gut clenched - she'd forgotten until now that the Hopes were to join the Rivers for Christmas that year. How was she going to survive three weeks in close proximity to Darrell? They would still both need to study for January exams, of course, but there would be only Darrell's room and sometimes her father's study to escape to in the packed household - nowhere near as safe a refuge as the maze of empty classrooms she haunted here at university.
The fourth year's face cleared a little. "Well, that will be nice then, won't it? You'll get to relax a little again, just enjoy each other's company."
Sally's expression was distinctly pained. "I suppose."
Mhairi wasn't at all sure she'd helped.
Sally's father was working abroad over the holiday season, and so she, her younger sister and her mother were to join the Rivers at their home in Kent for the holiday season. This prospect had delighted Darrell when it was proposed a few months previously, and even now she was tentatively looking forward to it. Darrell was nothing if not optimistic in nature and she couldn't believe that this coolness between her and Sally could last the duration of the winter break. We must surely sort things out sooner or later, she thought to herself. If we could just sit down and talk...
"Is that a glint I see in your eye there, Head Girl?" Alicia teased, breaking Darrell out of her private musing. "Am I to be disciplined?" Darrell shook her head, more to refocus than to address Alicia's question, and suddenly remembered where she was, Alicia pinned on the bed beneath her, gazing up at her, eyes twinkling.
Pushing herself into a sitting position, Darrell frowned a little, hands going to refasten the buttons of her blouse of their own accord. "I do wish you wouldn't," she muttered as she did so.
"You didn't complain at the time."
"I wasn't really paying attention." Darrell didn't look round as she spoke, which was just as well, for the expression that passed across Alicia's face at that moment was one of profound hurt.
"I expect you'd better get along or mummy will be wondering where you are," she said now, cattily. "It's nearly ten." If Alicia knew that Darrell and Sally weren't as close as always, she hadn't betrayed the fact to Darrell, and still mocking the other girl constantly about Sally's possessive and over-attentive nature. Darrell would not give Alicia the satisfaction of telling her otherwise, and so she bore the teasing without comment.
"When do you leave for the break? Sally and I are catching the train to Edinburgh and then on down South on Friday."
"I leave Thursday. I suppose you'll manage an extra day without me all right?" Alicia shifted up the bed to sit at its head, her back against the wall, and cross her slim legs at the ankle, making no attempt to fix her stockings, which had become quite rumpled as she had lain there. She wore nylons with a seam up the back, which had in one case worked its way right around to the front of her leg. Darrell's gaze lingered there for a moment before returning to her face.
"I'm sure," she said simply, irritation bubbling up in her stomach as it did whenever they talked these days, it seemed. It was as though the more she spent time with Alicia in private doing... whatever they were doing... the less patience she had with her suggestive chatter and her little games with words.
Alicia leaned forward now, one eyebrow raised. "You'll think of me, won't you? While we're apart?" She had put on an American accent, her voice as low and silky smooth as that of a film actress. She leaned in a little closer, prompting Darrell to stand up, smoothing her skirt hurriedly before reaching for her coat.
"Have a good Christmas, Alicia. I think I'll be a little too busy packing to see you off."
It was almost satisfaction that Darrell felt as she opened the door to the back stairwell as usual and heard the first loud 'thump!' of the tennis ball, hard on the wall of Alicia's room.
(Chapter Seven)
Fandom: Malory Towers
Pairing: God, who knows. Alicia/Darrell/Sally. Not all at once. I don't think.
Rating: None
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Enid Blyton, or her estate or publishers or whatever, not me.
Words: 2000-ish.
Spoilers: The whole Malory Towers series.
Notes: Malory Towers post-fic, with Darrell, Sally, Alicia and Betty at St Andrews university. I last updated this in early 2006. Here, three years later, is a continuation. Let's see if I can keep it up this time.
Chapter 6, in which people fail to communicate in a most infuriating fashion.
Darrell's face was still burning as she emerged from Alicia's dorm room, her footsteps clattering extra noisily in her ears, somehow, as she made her way down the airy back stairwell of the hall and into the cold December air. She rubbed her nose furiously before pulling her scarf up over it, partly to hide her pink cheeks (though most of the students she passed were similarly flushed, in their case from the cold).
It had been three weeks since that fateful evening in the Tudor with Alicia, and the encounter that had followed it the next morning. Since then, Darrell had learned an awful lot, both about Alicia and about herself.
Alicia Johns had been true to her word - infuriatingly so. Though Darrell had made every effort to avoid her friend for several days following 'the incident' (as she couldn't help but think of it now), it had all been in vain, for the next time she did run into her - in the main library, in point of fact - she'd found herself dragged between a particularly quiet set of stacks holding dusty music manuscripts and pressed up against Bach and Bartók. Alicia had muttered a quick 'hallo', and kissed Darrell without further preamble. Darrell had only briefly considered struggling.
And so it had continued - in the library, in their dorm rooms when one or the other of their room-mates was absent - even once out at East Sands, the bitter cold making them pull all the closer, though the beach was rarely deserted even at this time of year. The pair didn't talk anymore - for what would they have had to talk about? Darrell's days were spent studying for the next month's exams and trying to ignore the coolness that had crept up between herself and Sally. Her nights were spent tossing and turning in bed, or simply lying still, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, too warm despite the cold weather and ill-fitting windows, burning with frustration, guilt, and something else, a growing, itching sensation of anticipation - one she was determined not to surrender to.
A bitter wind was blowing outside, and Darrell jammed her hands into the deep pockets of her cashmere overcoat, hunching her shoulders against the cold. She felt the tips of her uncovered ears freezing, her hair whipping around her face, and wished she'd worn a hat. It was only a five minute walk back to Wardlaw, but she'd be chilled to the bone by the time she got there.
And it isn't as though I can expect a warm reception when I get there.
Darrell had tried to talk to Sally again, once or twice, but her friend had become adept at avoiding any attempts to do so. Sally seemed determined that whatever Darrell had to say to her, she did not want to hear, and eventually Darrell had simply had to give up. They had continued to share their free time (when they were not studying), still eating breakfast together and occasionally visiting the Tudor, but things had most definitely changed. Sally, constant, steadfast Sally, had become secretive and solitary, often absent from morning to supper without any word as to where she'd been or what she'd been doing, answering only that she was 'studying' if Darrell asked.
In truth, Sally Hope was doing an awful lot of studying, throwing herself into her university work in a obsessive, single-minded way that impressed but concerned her tutors, resulting, just before Christmas, in a visit from her academic mother.
Mhairi hadn't seen much of her academic daughters since Raisin Weekend, her own exam schedule looming just as theirs was, but a conversation one evening with her housemate Ellen, who happened to lead one of Sally's Literature seminars, prompted her to seek Sally out.
"Honestly, I know that a student working hard shouldn't worry me, but she seems so... closed-off," Ellen had said over their shared bottle of wine that evening. "She was never particularly talkative, not like Darrell, but she's as silent as the grave now - turns all her work in, excellent as always, but she never puts her hand up in class anymore, and she seems so sad all the time. See what's eating her, will you? She's a good kid, would be a shame to see her, I don't know, burn out or somesuch."
Tonight Sally was in the Wardlaw Wing common room, but not attached at the hip to Darrell Rivers as she had been last time Mhairi had seen her. She was alone in a quiet corner, pouring over a course textbook.
"Long time no see," Mhairi opened, a little awkwardly, as she approached. It was obvious that the younger woman didn't want to be interrupted.
Sally glanced up with a slight start, her pale cheeks accented asymmetrically with a rosy glow on the side nearest the roaring fire. Clearly she'd been there some time. "Oh, Mhairi. Hallo there."
"Mind if I sit?" Mhairi didn't wait for Sally to answer, instead maneuvering herself into the seat opposite. She cleared her throat. "Look here," she said. "I'm no good at beating around the bush or what-have-you - I'm afraid it's just not in me. So here it is. Ellen was worried about you, thinks you've gone a bit quiet lately. I thought I'd come see what was up."
Sally almost laughed. The fourth year's straightforward, no-nonsense manner was so very like Darrell's that she instinctively grinned. Then she remembered how things were with Darrell right now, and the expression fell away, her closed countenance returning.
Mhairi, who had felt a spark of hope at Sally's initial reaction, felt her heart sink a little. "That bad?" She reached a hand out to cover Sally's where it lay over her now face-down book. "Sally, I know it sounds trite, but you really can talk to me - it's what I'm here for. Whatever it is."
The dark-haired girl closed her eyes against the tears that had suddenly sprung up in them. "I... it's Darrell."
"Darrell?" Mhairi frowned. That was a little surprising. Of course she knew that people changed at university, and some hard-and-fast friendships did not stay the course, as it were, but she would never have considered that the bond between Darrell Rivers and Sally Hope would have broken. She supposed she should be relieved - she had worried that it was some family or health issue that had Sally so downhearted, but still, she supposed that out here, all by herself, so far from her family, drifting away from Darrell would be rather stressful and disheartening. "Aren't you two getting along?"
"We're..." Sally frowned. What could she say? She knew that Darrell had done nothing to deserve the coolness that was being heaped upon her, whatever the hateful Alicia Johns was saying behind her back. Darrell had been, if anything, more attentive than ever in the decreasing time they spent together. It was nothing that Darrell had done that was eating away at Sally but what she had not done - and most certainly would not do. Sally had only recently admitted to herself exactly what it was she needed from Darrell Rivers, and with it had come the crushing realisation that this was one step too far, even for them.
Sally sighed. She couldn't even begin to explain. "We've been rather busy lately."
Mhairi had been watching Sally's face during the pause with interest, her brow drawing together thoughtfully. There was most definitely something going on there that was making Sally feel utterly wretched, but damned if she knew what. She simply nodded. "Are you two spending any of the vac together?"
"Christmas. I'm supposed to spend Christmas with her family." Sally's gut clenched - she'd forgotten until now that the Hopes were to join the Rivers for Christmas that year. How was she going to survive three weeks in close proximity to Darrell? They would still both need to study for January exams, of course, but there would be only Darrell's room and sometimes her father's study to escape to in the packed household - nowhere near as safe a refuge as the maze of empty classrooms she haunted here at university.
The fourth year's face cleared a little. "Well, that will be nice then, won't it? You'll get to relax a little again, just enjoy each other's company."
Sally's expression was distinctly pained. "I suppose."
Mhairi wasn't at all sure she'd helped.
Sally's father was working abroad over the holiday season, and so she, her younger sister and her mother were to join the Rivers at their home in Kent for the holiday season. This prospect had delighted Darrell when it was proposed a few months previously, and even now she was tentatively looking forward to it. Darrell was nothing if not optimistic in nature and she couldn't believe that this coolness between her and Sally could last the duration of the winter break. We must surely sort things out sooner or later, she thought to herself. If we could just sit down and talk...
"Is that a glint I see in your eye there, Head Girl?" Alicia teased, breaking Darrell out of her private musing. "Am I to be disciplined?" Darrell shook her head, more to refocus than to address Alicia's question, and suddenly remembered where she was, Alicia pinned on the bed beneath her, gazing up at her, eyes twinkling.
Pushing herself into a sitting position, Darrell frowned a little, hands going to refasten the buttons of her blouse of their own accord. "I do wish you wouldn't," she muttered as she did so.
"You didn't complain at the time."
"I wasn't really paying attention." Darrell didn't look round as she spoke, which was just as well, for the expression that passed across Alicia's face at that moment was one of profound hurt.
"I expect you'd better get along or mummy will be wondering where you are," she said now, cattily. "It's nearly ten." If Alicia knew that Darrell and Sally weren't as close as always, she hadn't betrayed the fact to Darrell, and still mocking the other girl constantly about Sally's possessive and over-attentive nature. Darrell would not give Alicia the satisfaction of telling her otherwise, and so she bore the teasing without comment.
"When do you leave for the break? Sally and I are catching the train to Edinburgh and then on down South on Friday."
"I leave Thursday. I suppose you'll manage an extra day without me all right?" Alicia shifted up the bed to sit at its head, her back against the wall, and cross her slim legs at the ankle, making no attempt to fix her stockings, which had become quite rumpled as she had lain there. She wore nylons with a seam up the back, which had in one case worked its way right around to the front of her leg. Darrell's gaze lingered there for a moment before returning to her face.
"I'm sure," she said simply, irritation bubbling up in her stomach as it did whenever they talked these days, it seemed. It was as though the more she spent time with Alicia in private doing... whatever they were doing... the less patience she had with her suggestive chatter and her little games with words.
Alicia leaned forward now, one eyebrow raised. "You'll think of me, won't you? While we're apart?" She had put on an American accent, her voice as low and silky smooth as that of a film actress. She leaned in a little closer, prompting Darrell to stand up, smoothing her skirt hurriedly before reaching for her coat.
"Have a good Christmas, Alicia. I think I'll be a little too busy packing to see you off."
It was almost satisfaction that Darrell felt as she opened the door to the back stairwell as usual and heard the first loud 'thump!' of the tennis ball, hard on the wall of Alicia's room.
(Chapter Seven)