My second NaNoWriMo attempt, after The Principles was another piece of teen fiction.  A follow up of sorts.  Based loosely on something which had happened to me a few years earlier.  Though all the names, genders, locations and ages and actual events were changed to protect the innocent.

This was a failure – I never reached the end, and never felt the urge to continue with it.  Not that I don’t think it might be worth continuing, but it never got to the end, and I don’t remember right now where I was intending the story to go.  I certainly can’t find any record of any planning about what was going to happen next.  For anyone who chooses to read on: if I recall, it was going to pretty quickly turn out that Gee and Eugene were the same person.  There was going to be a romatic triangle (sort of thing) where Dervla wanted Eugene, Eugene wanted Ronni, Ronni wanted Todd, and all the while everyone was confiding in Mia (especially after Dervla and Eugene’s history came out.  Not that I remember much about their history or why it should matter)- which was difficult as Mia also wanted a piece of Eugene (This is where the title came from). Finally I think the end of the story must have involved Mia and Cormag winding up together (Cormag doing his Mr Darcey act in the scenes that I got around to writing).

I think, at the time I wrote this, I had recently been on holiday in Arran.  So when I was writing this, I was specifically thinking about October in Arran.  So when you’re picturing the bright, sunny, ice-cream filled beach holiday that the beginning of this story creates, remember that I was picturing a grey, blustery, ice-falling-from-the-sky holiday that I had been on.

Also, this is an unfinished first draft, so the spelling is awful.  I fixed some formatting errors (which were due to the text editor I wrote this in), but there could well be some remaining.

 

Stuck In The Middle Without You

Chapter 1: The Best Summer Ever

Mum was just standing there. I knew what she was thinking, behind her eyes rolling ever so thoughtfully towards the heavens she was trying to find the perfect way of dashing my hopes of a memorable summer. Pleading with her wouldn’t be any good – once mum had made up her mind about sometyhing, that was it, settled, set in stone. And she had obviously decided my fate. There was know way on earth she was going to let me go. I’d heard it all a tousand times before ‘you’re too young, what if you go into trouble’ ‘I’ll be lying awake allnight wondering what you’re getting up to’ ‘If you think I’m letting you spend a week in the company of that Gordon girl, you’ve got another think comming’.

She’s probably right about that Gordon Girl, about Ronni. Mum never really liked Ronni, not since Ronni convinced Dervla and me to skip school and go clothes shopping at the mall. We would have probably got away with it if we wern’t ten years old and wearing our school uniforms.But even then Ronni always had this big thing about looking perfect, ‘keeping in touch with the changing directions of the tornado that is fashion’ she calls it now. But really its about looking good for guys, and, when you put it to her in those words she won’t deny it either (though if a guy said that too her, she would probably giggle then tap him playfully on the shoulder). Mum’s always saying that Ronni is going to find herself in big trouble one of these days, but ROnnie leads a charmed life, she can find her way through anything, and, when the problems do get too much for her, theres always a queue of men willing to give her a helping hand… often quite a lot more than a helping hand… but I digress

I think mum thinks of herself as the stern but fair matriarch, the sort of woman you respect because you knew everything she does, she does for some higher reason. In the movie of her life, Mom probably thinks she is played by Judy Dench or (some equivalent american), but when you see her from my perspective, you realise thats not the way things are at all. Think about the opening scenes in star wars, luke was all up for adventure but his uncle and aunt tried their hardest to avoid him getting in the slightest bit of trouble because they were worried. That is what Mum is like, too caught up in thinking of the worst that could happen to let me even slightly live my own life and make my own mistakes.

Now, granted, Uncle Owen knew Luke was Darth Vader’s son, not to mention a prince in waiting – and really, there isn’t much chance of it turning out that I’m a princess: that only happens in the sort of books Ronni reads, and, hello, they bear no relation to life at all: girls go through them completely unaware of their surroundings while boys throw themselves at their feet, and the girls, too caught up in their own problems, never seem to notice. I tell you, if a boy was throwing himself at my feet, I would notice… but then I would probably point him towards Ronnie, because it would have all be due to some sort of mistaken identity thing. No, I really don’t go in for Ronnie’s romances at all: I prefer films, after all, whats the point of reading about hot guys sweating in tight white shirts when you can see them ten times life size, every bicep bulging, looking straight at you as if they were reading your mind

‘well?’

Mum was saying something. I’d zoned out. Too much thinking about Keanu Reaves. Dervla says I need to stop building myself imaginary relationships and focus on building a realistic inner life that reflects who I am. Dervla doesn’t have much time for fiction at all, she reads books baout self improvement. Personally I think having Keanu Reaves on my arm would be a great improvement over the lack of men hanging off it at the moment or, well, ever in the past. But Dervla just tutted and rolled her eyes, a bit like Mum, when I told her that, so I never did tell her that my imaginary life was a lot better than the real life where my opresive mother kept me locked up in her comfort zone. Actually, come to think of it, Mom was probably played by one of those guards from prisoner cell block H (though she was a lot prettier – at least after she had the chance to put on some makeup).

‘I thought you’d be pleased, dearest’
‘About what?’ I asked. Mom was smiling at me. It unnerved me slightly. I had read in school that smiling isn’t about being nice to people at all, its actually just the human equivalent of dogs bearing their teeth. whn you smile at someone it doesn’t mean ‘I like you’ but more ‘back off buster, this is my territory’
‘Havn’t you been listening to a word I’ve been saying? Really Mina, you live in a world of your own sometimes. I’ve decided that you can go on this holiday if its really so important to you’
‘Pardon?’ Alien cloners must have replaced my mother with a stand in, or perhaps mum had just lost all understanding of the english language and was stringing together random words
‘Well, you’re sixteen now, and even if Ronni Gordon is going to be coming along with you, I’m sure Dervla will be able to keep the both of you in check’
I hearby take back every bad thing I’ve ever said about my mother. Which is pretty much every thing I’ve ever said about my mother – at least for the last decade or so. But you see, underneath everything, my mother really is quite well meaning, and I s’pose I have to like the way she wants to keep me wrapped up tightly in her arms. And she was there for me the time, after the school dance where I had plucked up the courage to ask Tom Spiers to dance, and his rejection had crushed me down to the size of an underdeveloped gnat in front of the whole year, offering my cups of tea and busicits and telling me that there were plenty of other men out there, not just spiteful little boys.

Though had I taken her up on that offer, she would have come down on me so fast…

I throw my arms around my others neck and plaster her face with kisses ‘Thankyou thankyou thankyou you wont regret it I’ll have a wonderful time and I wont do anything stupid or go near any boys or get in trouble or listen to Ronnie you’ll be so proud of me thankyou mummy I love you’

Mum just stands there, holding me tight to her chest, a tear welling in the corner of her eye. ‘Havn’t you got some people to tell?’ she asks. And by the time she has finished that sentence I have wrestled free from her grasp and am running out of the front door towards Ronnie’s house.

***

We always meet at Ronnie’s house, so there was no reason to be shocked when Dervla opened the front door. I was still buzzing with excitement from mum’s shock decision

‘I’m sensing something’ Dervla says, looking deep into my eyes

‘mom-says-I-can-go-with-you-to-your-summer-house-on-holiday’ I begin to babble. Ronnie has been attracted to the door by my high pitched screasms of joy and general jumpinaroundness. In fact have the neighbourhood have been attracted to their front doors by the same sound. As derver packs me off inside I’m sure I can hear Ronnie’s nextdoor neighbour, old Mr Watkins shouting something about hearing an air-raid siren going off.
And while Ronnie has joined me in my happy shakey jummping singing frenzy, Dervla remains her calm collected self

‘Listen Ronnie’, Dervla says, ‘I think Mina is trying to tell us something… yes she is… little Timmy is trapped in the well, no, wait, its not that at all, shes saying – yes shes saying Mina can come with us on the holiday’

And Dervla is smiling, so, given I’m in a good mood I let the lassie reference slip and rush though the hallway and up the stairs to Ronnie’s room.

You don’t know Ronnie as well as I do, so Ronnie’s room really needs to be explained. When Ronnie was younger her parents had decorated it in bright barbie pink. Now, Ronnie has grown up a little since then, and all mentions of the word Barbie have been removed, but the pink remains. Its all a little more tastefull now, there are spanglyt glittery frames with pictures of me and Dervla in them hanging from the walls, and her wardrobe and dressing table have taken on far greater significance but overall you are left soley with the impression that you have entered another world where the only colour that has been invented is pink. The weird thing is, it matches Ronnie so well that you don’t think to question it. Just like Ronnie can still get away with having her hair tied back in little pigtails – they make her look cute and niave (which Ronnie is, of course, anything but) but also give her an edge of danger. If I was to do that, I would just look like I had mistakenly taken leave of my senses and ased my Mum for hairdressing advice.

Dervla claps her hands together in order to get Ronnie and me to pay attention. Dervla isn’t the sort of girl who people in school notice (other than when she gets better marks than you in practically every subject) and she certainly isn’t the sort of girl who tries to be the centre of attention, but around Ronnie and me it’s Dervla who does the organising, pulling my head out from the clouds (which is a perfectly nice place for my head to be, mind you, it just doesn’t help when you’re orgnising important things like holidays, trips to the cinema or what clothes we are going to be wearing to the end of ter?m dance tomorrow.

‘Today’ Dervla begins ‘is a very important day. It seems that we three are going to be spending the best summer of our lives together at mum and Dad’s beach house’
‘Hear hear’ Ronnie choruses. She’s been doing that ever since Dervla made us sit down and watch the Budget on the parliment channel, on account of Dervla thinking we could do with some knowledge about current affiars. I tried to tell her I didn’t need any knowledge abotu current affairs, what I needed was a current affair of my own. But Dervla just said somethig about men being from mars and me neading to have a special place in my heart that would open up to them. I didn’t see how the Budget was going to help with that, but Dervla got all huffy and turened the volume up, so the discussion ended there.
Dervla continues ‘But first things first. We have a school dance coming up, and Ronnie suggested that she would give us ultimate man catching attire’

Ronnie eyes us up and down ‘so who is it you want to catch the attention of then chickitos?’ She winks at me conspiritorially ‘Not Tom Spiers still’
Well, thats just about it. I pick up a pillow and throw it straight at Ronni’s head. Unfortunately my pillow throwing is woefully undeveloped and it falls embassaingly short, just managing to knock the toe of Ronni’s shoe
‘Rage, good, we can use that’ Ronnie laughs. ‘And Dervla, since Gene isn’t going to be there…’

‘We can only hope’ I say, and Ronnie and I giggle. Gene is this boy who fell for Dervla last summer. Dervla had decided that she didn’t need a man to complete her, and certianly not Gene, so she let him down gently. What Devrvla didn’t realise was that this would send Gene psycho, he started writing her notes, and getting flowers delivered. The letters were quite sweet, I suppose in a ‘I’d quite like a stalker of my own’ kind of a way. We used to read them out over lunch, with Ronnie doing one of her dramatic over-the-top accents while Dervla tried to get the letter back from us.

‘Ow’ I complain, realising Ronnie has just elbowed me. Ronnie shoots a look towards Dervla. Dervla isn’t laughing. Thoughts are gooing through her brain. She gets a glased look when she is thinking deeply. Normally this means that Dervla has figured out the answer to some big problem we are having, like an imminent chemistry test that we havn’t revised for, but somtimes the corners of her mouth edge down and her skin pales from its normal red to a shade of white identical to the little statuettes Mu brought for our mantlepiece.

After a few seconds of silence Dervla notices that we’re both looking at her (did I mention that we’re not the most subtle… well, I’m quite subtle on my own, but frankly when Ronnie is around there isn’t much point)
‘He’s going to be there isn’t he?’

Ronnie slaps he head dramatically, and I slide over to where Dervla is sitting and put my hand on her shoulder.

‘He’ll be over you Dervla, its been a whole year’ Ronnie says.

‘Yeah’ I cut in ‘You don’t know that Gene will be hanging around the beach again this summer’

‘Anyway, he’s probably found someone else to stalk’

‘Well, gee, thanks Ronnie. Way to make a girl feel good about herself’

‘it’s not my fault if men have like a too second attention span before they forget what girl their meant to be dating. They get easily distracted’

‘Ronnie’ I say to her ‘we don’t all have two distractions jutting out from our chest like you do’

‘Well, then’ she replies, ‘you’ve come to the right place’ She swings open the wardrobe door and begins to rummage through her dresses ‘Lets see what we can do’

***

I had arrived at the school half an hour before the dance was due to begin. This wasn’t ut of any special school spirit, nor any desire to be away from the place for as little time as possible, but rather because Ronnie had agreed to meet me here and bring my outfit. Mum, bless her wonderful, can do no wrong in my eyes, heart would have had a fit if she had seen what Ronnie had decided I needed to wear if I was going to finally make the guys in my class (or even better, in the sixth form) sit up and take note. The t-shirt was two sizes too small, and the skirt was closer to being a belt

‘Are you absolutely sure?’ I ask, but I don’t wait for the answer. In my head, I’m the girl at the end of the teen comedy who has let her hair down and is finally going to get her man at the prom.

Why don’t we have proms? All we have are a few trays of peanuts and soft drinks in the cafeteria while someone’s big brother plays at being a DJ. Things would work so much better, it would give us something social to aim at as well as the academic element of school. And there could be a proper band and everything. And Jude Law could arrive, sweep me off my feet and carry me back to his mansion in LA. What? It could happen. If our schools had proms. The lack of proms is practically the only reason why I get nowhere near to having a love life. Someone really ought to write a letter to the education secretary. Perhaps Dervla, she’s into politics: she probably even knows who the education secretary is.

‘Are you done or what’ Ronnie and Dervla were waving their hands in front of my face. I straightened my hair and began to walk towards the school entrance

‘Hold your head up high’ Dervla whispers into my ear. ‘They say that if your body acts like you’re confident and sexy then it’ll trick your brain into acting that way too’

Anything is worth a shot. I point my chin into the sky and strighten my back. I grin a grimicing smile and try to forget about the quantity of flesh I’m putting on display. ‘I’m sexy, attractive and wonderful I whisper to myself over and over again’. I sneak down to glance at ROnnie every so often and wonder if she has to do the same. She seems to be strolling casually with a sping in her step, just like she always does. More fool her. She doesn’t have the secret of Dervla’s book smarts. As I climb up the school steps I notice several appreciative stares aimed right at me. ROnnie girl, the tables are turning. If only poor Ronnie were to be whispering confident self-affirming phrases to herself, but no shes blowing it buy wandering straight over to that group af boys and saying ‘hello’. Poor foolish Ronnie.

The problem with school dances is that you know everyone there. They’re either in your year (in which case you know them to well to ever consider finding them attractive and anyway, they’re all too obsessed with their playstation IIs to really know how to treat a woman – a woman who isn’t Lara Croft anyway), or they’re in the year above you (in which case they’re far too cool to be seen with the likes of me. No wait. I’m confident. They must be gagging for the chance to spend time with me. Why is it that whenever I follow Dervla’s advice and afirm the beautiful inner me, my internal dialogue always sounds so sarcastic?), or they’re in the year below you, which would be sort of like dating Ronni’s younger brother Toby – which is just to horrid to even be considered. Plus none of them wash. And they all have playstaions too. The only other people at school dances are boyfriends from elsewhere who have been snuck in, but theres this whole social taboo about getting off with someone else’s guy, even if the person is that bloody Mary Stewart who it would be so good to see taken down a peg or two, and is with a totally hot guy (and letting everyone know that she knows it) or are teachers.

I want to point out that I didn’t give a reason for not trying to pull a teacher because I thought it was mindblowingly obvious, not because it was what I was planning on doing. Credit me with some restraint. Except perhaps where Mr Holland is concerned… but seriously, that isn’t going to happen, so don’t go there. We can’t have a small quantity of fantasy lust of a teacher get in the way of the full blown fantasy lust I have for Ewan McGreggor, can we?

By now, as you might have guessed, I have been stending here, my chin in the air, smiling, while all around me people are milling about and the DJ is desperately trying to urge people onto the dance floor. I suspect soon he’ll resort to ‘Last Train to Clarksville’ but untill then, its boy shopping time. Or it would be, but Ronnie hasn’t returned yet, and Dervla is talking to some of her friends from the computer club. And while the boys from the computer club are occasionally managing to snake glances at my ever so hot thanks to Ronnie bod, I seriously doubt they would be able to manage to say a whole sentence to me without choking on their own tounge or something. Hey, Dervla was right, this confidence thing really does work. And on top of the world, absolutely certain of myself I walk out onto the dance floor, find the closest bloke who’s even vaguely reasonable and walk over to him.

‘Hiya’ I smile at Luke Bradshaw, who scubs up a lot better out of uniform than he does in school
‘Hmm’ he mumbles and looks at his feet
‘Do you want to dance?’
His face reddens, bless him. I grab his hand and lead him out onto the floor. I’m sure somewhere behind me Dervla has noticed new confident Mina and is sending vibes of encouragement my way. A Britney Spears song starts playing and I begin to boogie on down. Normally only teachers and middle aged parents at parties who have had one too many boogie – most people dance, mosh or sway, but rhythm isn’t quite my thing. Normally I’m to embarassed and hang around by the snack table (leading to serious problems with my incredible inflating thighs), but today confident Mina is in charge, and I strut my stuff like I’m forty two and have been knocking back the sherry for hours. It’s onyl after baout a minute of serious stuff strutting that I notice Luke has walked back to where he was. I shoot him a look, but he is far more interested in his shoes.

Seriously, the nerver of that boy, turning down something like me. Whats his problem, anyway? I stride over to demand an explanation (and also to grab a sneaky glance at his arse, which the tight levis he is wearing are really showing off well)

‘Where’d you go?’ I ask, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he thought the song had finished
‘I errm. Here.’ eye contact boy! How are you ever meant to ask me out if you don’t make eye contact? Not that I actually want to go out with you, you’re just first dance material (though the arse is seriously growing on me… and wow, those shoes are nice, no wonder you keep looking at them)
I put my finger under his chin and raise his face so that he looks at me. I didn’t know boys could go quite the colour of beetroot, but Luke was doing a fairly stirling impersonation. He’s so sweet. You know if he did ask, I think I would go out with him. I could take him to a romantic comedy, and begin to teach him how to act… we could progress through to action heros and by the end I’d have my own little Bruce Willis, only younger. Actually, Bruce Willis is pushing it a bit, with some eye liner he could make a fair Jonny Depp. Then I look a bit more closely. Luke already has eyeliner.
‘It’s not that I don’t like you Mina’ he says, ‘its just that I’m, well,’ he rubs one of his shoes (armani if I’m not mistaken, this boy has class, but I’m beginning to guess why. I’m nothing if not perceptive) against the back of his other leg and scratches his forehead ‘I’m not so much into girls as boys’

The music stops. Everyone in the room turns round. My face has turned a vivid scarlet, and then everyone begins to laugh and in my mind I shrink down into a tiny little person, that all the rest of the school, giants, around me are looking at, pointing and geering. It’s horrible. Truely horrible. I turn and run, all the time telling myself ‘nobody heard that but you, and lots of women go out dancing with gay male friends’ but sounding totally unconvincing. I keep running until I get to the clockroom, where, beneath the coat hooks, in a corner cordened off by lockers I’m able to sit on my own and think about what an idiot of myself I’d just made. How could I have not noticed the Luke was gay? shurely there would have been a crowd of girls fawning over him if he was available. Stupid stupid stupid! I knock my head repeatedly against a coat rack, but the physical pain does nothing to calm my emotional torment.

‘I don’t think those are meant to stand up to that sort of violence’ Dervla is standing over me, quite concerned about the dent my forehead is making in the metal, by all accounts.
‘I’m going home’ I tell her, which is patently untrue: I don’t have the faintest idea of where Ronni is, and she’s got my clothes.
‘What happened? We just saw you run out’
‘I made a fool of myself. There’s no way any boy could ever fancy me’
‘Well, not luke. He’s gay you know’ Dervla says, conversationally
‘Arrgghhhhhhhhh!’ I scream in response. ‘Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!’
‘Do you know just how many brain cells you lose each time you do that?’
‘I havn’t got any brain cells. I didn’t even notice Luke was…’
‘Ohhhh. That explains the running and the headbutting’ Dervla runs her fingers through my hair. She’s been told that physical contact helps bond friends together, and I appreciate the effort, even if she is undooing all the work ronni put into it. We begin to laugh about things a little. Just a little mind. Trying to figure out who it is Luke actually has his eye on.
‘Probably Mr Holland’ Dervla says. I then proceed to explain how she couldn’t possibly be any more wrong, because Mr Holland has a really hot motorbike, and its a well known fact that Motorbikes are a sure sign of hetrosexuality.
‘Wasn’t there a motorcycle cop in the Village people?’
‘He was just lying to himself. He probaboly wanted his gran to feel better about him’
‘We probably ought to go back in to the cafe’ Dervla suggested ‘The only people out here are making out, and given your recent brushes with confused sexuality the rumours that could start about us would do nothing to help you get a man’
‘Dervla?’ I looked at her pointedly ‘with all those books you read, have you learned nothing about the male mind. Marsians want to see nothin more than some hot venusian on venusian action’
‘Speaking of which, I wonder who taht is over there’ Dervla pointed some coats which were arranged as if to hide the people behind them very poorly. The coats were moving back and forth and the occasional arm was thrust up above where they were hanging.
‘I think thats just you’re everyday marsian/venusian action’
‘Lets find out who it is though. A little juicy gossip never hurt anyone’

Dervla and I walk close to the coats, but neither of us can quite bring ourselves to pull them aisde an see who lurks behind. So we wait until the amore dies down a little, which takes an excessively long time if you ask me, they’re just showing off. COuldn’t romance be spred around a little more equitably – on a timeshare basis or something? Eventually the coats are pushed aside, and I’m a little shocked to notice the man who I like to think of as Mr Jerkface McJerk Tom Spiers emerging. He spots us and looks a little embarassed as he shuffles past, but not to embarassed to look back at me and shoot me a ‘bet you wish it was you’ grin. Which I don’t. At all. In his dreams. But he certainly has that whole self image thing going for him.
We continue to wait to see who comes next.

‘I bet its that bitch Mary Stewart’ Dervla says in hushed tones
‘No, she was here with that hot mechanic boyfriend of hers’ I reply
‘Who has Spiers been getting Jiggy with then’
‘She’s coming, so we’ll find out. And while we’re at it, I seriously advise you to never use the phrase ‘getting jiggy with it’ in public.’
‘Whos getting Jiggy with who?’ Ronni askes, stepping out from behind the coats.

I set about explaining that we didn’t know who was getting jiggy but that ronnie must have seen who was behind tose coats when it occured to me what she was doing there.

‘what were you doing back there’ I ask, proving that sometimes I do exhibit some degree of subtlety

‘Well, I was just having a little fun with Tom Spi… Oh… Mina… I really thought you were over all of that’

‘I am’ I say. But my eyes are watering, which probably makes Ronni suspicious even though I am indeed totally over Jerkface.

‘I didn’t mean…’ and now Ronni is about to start crying. I look to Dervla for support, but she has gone silent, and entered one of her ‘thinking about things’ faces. Which means there is a good chance she’ll start crying soon

‘don’t worry about it, Ronni’ I splutter

‘but I should have realised. I shouldn’t have even gone near him’

‘Jerkface’

‘Yes I am a jerkface’

‘No he’s a Jerkface, Ronni, you’re my friend’

‘I’m not a good friend. Its okay, I won’t see him again.’

‘Well duh!’

Dervla clapped her hands together, and Ronni and I turned to see what she was about to say.

‘It think’ Dervla says slowly and thoughtfully ‘that we need to have an extraordinary meeting. We have already established that this summer is going to be the best summer ever’

‘Hear hear’ Ronni say, but her heart isn’t in it

‘but recent events seem to indicate we’re going to need some ground rules. I’ll suggest the first one:’

I nod and Ronni opens her eyes a little wider.

‘Rule number 1′ Dervla says, ‘for the duration of the best holiday ever, there will be no boys. This holiday is about us, and boys only get in the way’

‘I’d pay for boys to get in my way’ I say

Ronni is speachless. Its like this whole concept of boylessness is entirely alien. We wait for her to speak, but she just sits there in silence. Eventually I nudge her and say

‘Ronni?’

‘No boys?’ she asks ‘Hows that going to happen?’

I laugh. No boys happens to me without any effort whatsoever.

‘I suppose I can manage that.’ she conceds ‘and it’ll give you a good excuse if Gene comes calling’

‘I don’t need an excuse. I’m secure in my freakedoutishness’ Dervla replies. ‘now, does anyone have any suggestions for rule number two’

I look down at my legs and inspiration strikes

‘No fatty foods. We are going to spend the entire summer being healthy and wholesome’

‘Wholesome?’ Ronni moans. Ronni has been known to eat whole chocolate cakes and not put on a pound. This adds weight to me belief that she probably is evil, like my mum suspects. Nevertheless, if the embodyment of evil is hanging around at your school, its probably a good idea to be one of her best friends.

‘I’m secure in my self-image’ Dervla says – she too is infeasibly skinny – ‘but it can’t hurt. I have a book called eat right for your type, which tells you what foods to eat depending on your blood group’

‘Just no fatty foods’ I tell her. I’m tempted to add that chocolate is a vegetable, and thus acceptable, but a moment of wholesomeness, or conscionce, or one of those irritating things (like a mother in your head) stops me.

‘We have two rules. One is mine, one is Mina’s’ Dervla says ‘Ronni, do you want to suggest a third rule’

Ronni doesn’t: she never was a rule folloing kind of girl, but after some taunting, and then a few threats of physical violence and introducing rules banning the colour pink she aquieses

‘How about: rule number 3 – we don’t lie, at least not to one another. We have no secrets, we keep everythign in the open. That way incidents like tonight can’t possibly happen’

I smile ‘I think we have all our based covered.’

Dervla nods sagely ‘If we keep to these rules nothing can possibly go wrong’

‘This is going to be ‘ I say and everybody else joins in ‘the best summer ever’

I don’t know about you, but if I was to hear that at the beginning of a film, I would expect the film to be a complete disaster where through either obeying or breaking one of the rules after another everythign goes hideously wrong. I don’t want to say thatsa what happens, but… well… I credit you with enough intelligence to make a good guess, after all, you bought this book didn’t you? Dramatic irony can be a real bitch when it bites you on the arse.

Chapter 2: Boys

Dervla’s beach house is perfect. Dervla’s parents must have way too much money if they can aford to live in their house and own this too, but all the time I’m benefiting from their oodles of excess cash, I’m really not one to complain. The house is white and quite small, with a sitting room, kitchen and extension containg a bathroom on the ground floor, and three bedrooms (each equpped with a double bed on the second floor, which is built into the roof, giving all the rooms loping ceilings on which you regulalry bump your head. The long front garden leads down diretly onto the beach, though beach is a bit of a generous term, since it consists entirely of pebbles, and doesn’t have a single person lying on it. In the morning sun shines through the flimsly cotton curtains, acting with more vigour than any alarmclock (though the sound of Ronni coaxing the antiquated water heating system into life for her morning fifty minutes in the bathroom also helps get you out of bed)

Nevertheless, the house is perfect, mainly because it is indisputably, entirely ours for the next three weeks. A place that will be dedicated to giggling laughter, earnest discussion, heated debate and absolutely no boys, secrets or fatty foods. As I look out of my bedroom window and gaze at the sea, I think to myself how wonderful and free I feel, the first morning I’ve ever been truely my own person. And about time too. I’ve been doing the whole devoted daughter thing for sixteen years, it was about time I got a bit of a break.

I wait contentedly for Dervla to finsih in the bathroom (seriously, what is there to do in a bathroom that takes fifty minutes? I swear that girl must have invented whole new forms of beauty treatments to fill in the time. Or perhaps she uses the runnign water to record secret messages into a dictaphone safe in ther knowledge that with all the running water no bugs will be able to pick up her conversation. Its unlikely, I know, but by occams razor I think we can count out the possibility that it might take fifty minutes to shower, so it is the only possible explanation. Oh god, I’m living with a spy.)

Ronni finally exits the bathroom while Dervla and I are sitting drinking tea. We glare at her, she beams at us, and its hard to feel angry at someone with eyes as big and as round as her. Its like kicking a puppy because it wants to wag its tail (not that I object to kicking puppies, per se, since I have been a cat person ever since the unfortnate incident when a dog mistook by behind for its lunch. It’s not even that my behind looks like a bone – quite the opposite in fact, unfortunatly. I mention this to the girls, and ROnnie suggests that there are times when I look like a dogs dinner. I suggest that she might want to avoid saying things liek that if she wants to wake up tomorrow morning, but it is her considered opinion that the sun coming through her bedroom window would wake her from the dead, so there isn’t realy a problem. If Ronni had studied matters further she would realise that the recently deceased only come back to life during the night… Here I am a mine of knowledge about horror movies and the boys still want to go to them with Ronni, I really don’t understand the world)

While I wasn’t looking, Dervla got into the bathroom. I really must learn to pay more attention to my surroundings.

Eventually I manage to get a minute of time in the bathroom, and pull myself together into something that looks less like a dogs dinner and more like a huamn being. I realise, however, that if I am living with a spy, part of her mission is clearly to avoid Dervla and I getting any of the hot water. We are seriously going to have to have words with Ronni.

I sit on the sofa in the loungs, and sink down, envelopped in it. Old though the furnature is, it is certainly comfortable. Dervla and Ronni are opposite me. I clap my hands, Dervla looks up but Ronni continues talking about the time she broke into Mrs Kenedy’s car so she could place her book there and claim Mrs Kenedy had forgotten to mark it, rather than that she had forgotten to hand it in. I clap them again to no avail. Dervla claps and Ronni stops. I swear that girl must have mystic powers.

‘We said no secrets’ I say

Dervla nods and Ronni says ‘No hiding anything at all’

‘I had a problem this morning, Ronni, you were in the bathroom for hours and you used up all the hot water’

Ronni rolls her eyes ‘You sound so much like my mother’

‘I was just saying, thats all. If we’re going to live together, there are things we’ve got to get straight’

‘like my hair, in the morning’

Well, at least I knew what it was she was doing now.

‘can you at least make an effort to be quick, or keep some water for us?’ Dervla asks, ever the peacemaker

‘I suppose so. Its not like there’s anything to make myself look wonderous for, not with the no boys rule’

I splutter into my cup of tea ‘You’ve only been here forteen hours. How many boys have you seen?’

‘well, there was one who looked me over when we got off the ferry, and the guy in the supermarket was kind of cute and, don’t you just love the accents?’

‘so, we’ve established that you’re going to be tormented for the whole of the holiday. Me, I plan on finding something to do. Anyone have any ideas?’

‘I was just going to read this morning’ Dervla says, holdign up her copy of ‘Emotional Intelligence’

‘if I go out, you’ll just shout at me for looking at the boys. or thinking about boys. or thinking about lookig at boys’

There was no point in arguing, Ronni was getting in one of her moods. Ronni’s moods were nothing to worry about, she always got over them in a few hours (though I have to admit, we hadn’t tested if she would get over it when enduring a forced abstinence of men). While ronni was seeing red (or more likely pink, in her case) there was no way of arguing or reasoning with her. Even Dervla had learned to let her be and stop making useful suggestions when Ronni started being negative. The funny thing was, asking around, Ronni only ever did it in front of us, and in front of her Mum. Everyone else in the world thought Ronni was the same highly charge bundle of energy all the time. We knew better, bt that didn’t help us. And being in a tiny house with her wasn’t going to help me

‘I think I’m going to go out for a walk. Anyone want to join me?’

Ronni gives her response bu studying the carpet, paying extra special attention to the bits where me feet arn’t, and Dervla murmers a quiet ‘no’ from behind her book, and turns to the next page, so I put on my jacket and shoes and walk down to the beach.

***

At least when I’m on my own on a beach I can clamber over the rocks and make my way to those places that other people who stay on the coast paths never get to see. I can look in caves and jump over rockpools without people lookang at me and thinking how childish I am. I’ve never quite got over the whole beach holiday thing. It isn’t really something Ronni would understand, she would be too worried that the heal of her new shoes would break (Ronni would never consider wearing the correct type of footware, afterall, there might be potential dates in the long deserted caves… in fact, if you left Ronni in a deserted cave, I’d lay money she would come out with a date anyway. Men are pretty much spontaniously create around her)
Dervla, on the other hand would either prefer to be sitting on a beach reading, or cycling around the island looking at sights. I’ve never seen the point in sights, surely once you’ve seen one hill, you’ve seen them all?

I spot an outcropping of rock in the distance and decide that the best course of action would be to just see what was on the other side of it, then, if it wasn’t interesting, turn back so I could join the girls for lunch. Non fatty lunch, that is. So I set off towards it. Is is only when I come up to it that I notice not only is this outcropping bigger than I thought, it is also going to be quite tricky to reach the top. Hovever, Mina Bennett is not a girl to give up on her dreams (which is why I have so many of them. Mostly about movie stars wearing very little in the way of clothing) so I press onwards and upwards. though I make little progress in either direction. It turns out that Chris Bonnington will have little to fear from me usurping his crown. I am about to give up, when it all begins. At first all that happens is I hear voices above me. This is most upsetting. When you make it your aim to conquore uncharted teritory, the one thing you don’t want is for other people to be there. Other people make the whole being on your own thing really hard, unless they are exceptinally well behaved. And since the voices I could hear were male, the chances of that were fairly low. But what they were saying struck me as interesting

‘You’ve got to get over it, you’re imagining things’ the first was saying

‘I told you I’m not. And anyway, I’m totally over it.’

‘But they’re not comming, you know that, you read the letter yourself. Cool it man, you’re not going to be the victim of a psychopathic axe murderer or anything’

Unfortunately, thier discussion was taking much of my attention. Whatever it was that boy b was claiming to be totally over, he wasn’t. He was protesting too much. Unlike me, because I actually am totally over Tom Spiers and don’t protest about it at all. In any event, I was considering going up to them and explaining this (though the propsect of psychopathic axe murders deterred me a little), but the stones where I my foot gave way and I slipped. Which on its own wasn’t too bad. It was just my other foot caught in a hollow in the rock, causing me to do the splits. Somthing years of school gymnastics lessons never got me to achieve. Luckily I can live through any amount of pain, even agonising, school gym lesson quality pain like this. What I can’i quite cope with is when the back my head hits hard against a rock surface and I black out for a couple of minutes.

Chapter 3 : Fatty Foods

‘Do you think she’s goint to be all right?’

‘Chill G-Man, it was just a little knock. Look she’s coming round already’

‘Shouldn’t she go to hospital or something, get her head examinined?’

‘I’ll check. Hey lady’

I assume the tall one is talking to me. Lieing on my back I can only really make out two people, one tall and with wavey blonde hair hanging down onto his shoulders, and the other shorter, but with the cutest nose you’ve ever seen and eyes to die for. Not that death was on my mind. I was far more interested in remaining alive. Remaining alive and not hurnting

‘She’s not answering. I’ll go and call for an ambulance’

‘No no’ I say ‘I’m fine. Sort of. Ow.’

It hurts to talk, I think I must have the mother of all bruises on my upper jaw. The sort of bruise that makes all the other bruises stay at home, and phone if they’re going to be out after eight. I think I might be delerious.

‘hey lady’ the tall one says to me. ‘d’you think G-Man here is good looking’

Well, he is. Did I mention the eyes. And also the way his shirt wraps around his chest. But mainly the deep blue eyes with these little flecks of green than I can make ouw when he bends down close to me. The sort of eyes you just want to drink up, or perhaps lick… But these are stange men, and anyway, boys are strictly off limits.

‘No’

‘see, dude, she’s fine. No brain damage or anything.’ the tall one turns back to me, and I begin to sit up ‘lady, how many fingers am I holding up?’

‘three?’

‘You’re going to be fine’

He offers me a hand and helps me to my feet. Then the short, dreamy, one hands me back one of my shoes which must have come loose during my fall. Its like cindarella, only I don’t think cinderella wore rebocks or had a purple jaw.

‘Hi’ he says to me, once I’ve taken the shoe ‘I’m Gee and this here is Todd’

Todd raises his hand to greet me and I smile back.

‘I’m Mina’ I say ‘and I supose I must have looked like a total idiot back there’

‘Well, you got zero points for rock climbing, but 10 out of 10 for artistic interpretation’ Gee laughs ‘and we all amke fools of ourselves from time to time. Don’t sweat it. Is there anything else we can do to help – Todd could carry you back to wherever you’re staying’

I’m tempted, but that would be such a big violation of the rules that I put it out of my head striaght away

‘I could do with something to drink’ I suggest

Gee looks over to Todd, then back at me

‘We were going to go get some ice cream, would you like to join us’

‘Yes’ I say decicively. This isn’t a date at all, oh no, this is medicinal. Doing anything else in my condition would be practically suicidal.

Rather than attempting to climb over the rocky outcrop, we walk to the other side along the coast road, which given the pain running through every inch of my body, is the preferable option.

‘Nice Ice is a cool place’ Todd tells me. Gee winces in pain at the pun but Todd seems oblivious ‘What G-Man? Tell me dude. Oh forget it. Its a seriously cool place, Mina. Most of the tourists never find it, which means its actually somewhere we can hang without loads of people talking about how gorgeous everything is. No offecne meant, of course’

‘None taken. So you come from round here then?’

‘Born and bred, us two.’

Gee opens the door for me and I walk in. Nice ice is quite an experience. The impression is of an american diner, only rather than wood and chrome, Nice Ice has plastics in the pastal shades of ice cream. Loud rock music was playing through speakers which distorted it, making it sould like it was coming from an ice cream van. i’m not surel if the effect is intentional, or just down to really cheap technology. And, as Todd promised, the place is empty except for the guy behind the counter, a studly sort, perhaps eighteen dressed in a leather jacket with heair creamed back. his features were tough and rugged, but his face bore the scar of cynicism. He looked up from his and grimaced after taking in Gee and Todd’s faces.

‘you two are back then? why can’t you leave me to read my paper?’

‘Thats no way to treat paying customers. Anyhow, we’ve brought a friend’

His eyes peer straigt at me. I look back at him. I feel a spark of electricity as our eyes meet. Unfortunately the spark is rather painful static electricity coming from the metal edges of the table. I jump in shock and he laughs

‘so, whats her name. oh, and you should warn her to look out for the statical electricity, it builds up in where, what with all the plastics’

‘thanks’ I mutter

‘Her name?’ Todd says ‘Dude, she told us didn’t she?’

‘This’ G points to me ‘ is Mina. She fell for me the moment we met’

‘The moment before we met’ I correct Gee, rubbing my face

The guy behind the counter puts on a dramatic wince as he hears my voice ‘you two always coming in here hassling me for ice cream is bad enough. But no, you had to do better, you bought a tourist. She’ll be off home telling people about this place and before we know it it’ll be a neverending stream of people. I won’t have time to do anything. So, did you come here just o make my life that little bit less bareable, or were you planning on buying some ice cream’

‘This is where you come for ice-cream?’ I say to Gee

‘No, this is where we come for personal abuse and humiliation. The ice cream is an added bonus though’

‘The ice cream is, like, fantabulous’ Todd concurs. ‘Give us 3 full fat double chocs’

I know, I know, the fatty food rule was my idea, and by breaking it I suspose I am being a bit disloyal, but you have to consider that I had just fallen off a high rock and hit my head. If I didn’t get sugar, fat and 70% cocao solid choclate into my system immediately I might start halucinating like that guy in ‘The Singing Detective’, and then Gee would probably start undressing as he gave me an extra sensual sponge bath, and that sort of thing was far less allowed than fatty food. And also Ice cream isn’t real fat, its practically a vegetable: what I meant was no sausages or bacon.

Gee handed some money to the ice cream guy and was rewarded with three tall classes of frozen chocolate heaven. I reached for a spoon, but Gee stopped me.

‘Mina, you really havn’t told us anything about who you are, what you were doing, why you were so deperate to join us on top of that rock. In return for the ice cream, I want details.’

‘In return for that spoon, I’ll tell you anything you want. Gimmee’ I snatch the spoon, my hand brushing against his as I clasp it. His skin is surpisingly smooth and warm. But in life there are men, and there is ice cream. Somewhere on the internet, I’m sure you can find a list of reasons why ice cream is better than a man. So I dig in, speaking inbetween mouthfulls I begin telling him about the fact I came here on holiday with my two oldest and closest friends. Good god this ice cream is good, it’s like there’s a party in my mouth and all the guests are made of the best chocolate ice cream in the world. I tell Gee about the rules. I tell Gee about the argument I had this morning. I tell Gee about how I like walking along the beach.

‘Arn’t you totally breaking all the rules as we speak’ Todd asks
I look at Gee and smile ‘its worth it’

When its time to leave, Gee asks if they’ll see me again.

‘Sure’, I say, ‘how about we meet here tomorrow afternoon’

‘D’you want to bring your friends along?’ asks Todd

‘And let them know about my contempt for the rules. Nah, you’re going to have to stay my secret for the time being’

Chapter 4 : Secrets

As I approach the front door of our holiday home, I’m singing and dancing, giddy with happiness. I didn’t ever think I would have cause to say the word giddy, but it sums up exactly how I feel. I’ve made new friends. New, hot, friends. And discovered possibly the best ice cream on the planet (I hear they have good ice cream in italy, but what are the odds of an italian man being as good looking as the guy in Nice Ice? Possibly quite high. Perhaps I ought to stage an expedition to italy. I wonder if they have rocks I can fall off in order to attract men. Maybe thats how Ronni does it, whenever my back is turned she probably stumbles on her high heals, knocks herself out and gets a man to revive her.)

‘You’re looking happy’ Ronnie beams. See, her mood gone, the argument forgotten about. What did I tell you. This is one of the things I love about Ronni, it really is hard to make her mad with you for any length of time. She lives in happy Ronni world where everyone is nice.

‘The sea breaze does wonders’ I say, wondering if she has noticed the bruise on my face

‘We saved you some lunch, Mina’ Dervla calls out from the kitchen where she is washing up ‘chicken salad: all very healthy, no skin or anything’

I blush. Do they know. How could they possibly know? Did they follow me? If htye did, why didn’t they help me when I fell off the rock? No, they’re just being nice.

‘I’m kind of full’ I reply ‘I got some, err, ‘ I pause. What sort of health food do they sell near beaches? Everything is full fat. Ronni is looking straight at me waiting for me to finish my sentence, she must have noticed that I’ve completely stopped talking by now. I can feel my face redded

‘sandwiches?’ Ronni asks ‘from the shop?’

‘Yes. sandwiches. Healthy sandwiches’

‘I’m surprised I didn’t see you there – I popped in a while back to get the chicken’ Dervla walks over to where we are standing

‘Well it is quite a big shop’ I say. Dervla looks puzzled. Perhaps it isn’t a big shop, not having been there I don’t know. ‘ a big shop for a village like this one, anyway’

Dervla still looks a bt puzzled, but she nods her head and lets the subject drop. I notice that I havn’t actually taken a breath for about the last four minutes, and breath out heavily. A bead of sweat runs down my forehead and I wipe it away. Most unladylike, but I think I got away with it.

I head upstairs in an attempt to escape any further inquisition.

***

The next day is as bright and breezy as yesterday. And I too am also bright and breezy. No bruise has developed on my face after all, the sun is shining and I have a date. Which is to say I don’t have a date, obviously, I have an appointment to meet with two friends who are concerned about my health after my accident yesterday. It just so happens they are male, but the mature manner in which they handled the crisis makes them anything but boys, so in many ways this isn’t so much a rule of ours that I am breaking, as a diplomatic mission.

Plus, they are boys who want me to spend time with them which must be a world first or something.

Unless this is all some big set up, like the thing with Tom Spiers. They probably saw a clumsy girl fall from the rocks and thought ‘How about we humiliate her further’. Or perhaps they’re gay. Ohmigod. They are so gay. They’ve were on an isolate rock together. They probably just want me to be a friend to go shopping with, and perhaps wath the occasional episode of Will and Grace. How welse would they know where to find really good ice cream? They probably cook in their spare time (when they arn’t designign clothes and being camp). It so disheartening to realise either of them would have a better chance of pulling Luke Bradshaw than me.

Did I say the day was bright and breezy, actually, its unseasonably mild, and I think there might be a depression coming in fromt he south.

But a deal is a deal. I agreed to meet them, and so I shall. After all, it is possible that two hot boys might want to spend their afternoon in my company. Don’t laugh. It is possible. Just highly unlikely.

I am joined, just as my face has fully finished shifting from smile to frown, by Ronni and Dervla who are talking animatedly about some waterfall Dervla has heard about. Apparently, there is water. Which falls. This is meant to be a big deal, despite the fact I’ve seen the niagra falls on TV, which is both bigger and has the added bonus of men in barrels (or at least it should have. if I find I’ve been lied to about this, I’ll be most dissapointed)

Dervla claps her hands together, and we turn towards her

‘I propose today that we go out to find the waterfall’

‘Er…’ I say ‘why’

‘why not?’ Dervla answers. And by answers, I don’t mean she actually gives me an answer, or a reason, or even a rationalisation as to why waterfalls might hold the slightest bit of appeal to a growing girl who has a secret date with two hot (if almost certainly gay) guys. There are days I would sware she is my mother in disguise.

‘I think I’m going to be sick this afternoon’ I say, looking embarassedly towards the bathroom. You might think this is a somewhat weak excuse, but it has freed me from the tyranny of about fifty percent of my gym lessons, so its worth a shot.

‘If you don’t want to go, just say.’ Dervla says. Great, now I’ve annoyed her. All I wanted to do was deceive her. Why does this girl have to be so emotional. Doesn;t she have books to stop that sort of thing?

‘Won’t you be bored on your own?’ Ronni asks.

‘I’ll manage. I’ve been wanting to read this anyway’ I pick a book fromt he coffee table at random ‘Feel the fear and do it anyway?’

Dervla brightens ‘Oh yes, you should read that. Susan Jeffers is a marvel. It has so much good advice’

Again, we have rules against lieing, I’m aware of that. But I do fully intend to read the book some day. Perhaps even today. I’ll take it with me to the ice cream parlour, and, if I get bored discussing the music of Elton John and… you know, I really know absolutely nothing about gay culture. Perhaps Todd and Gee will enlighten me. Shirley bassey! Elton John, Julie Andrews and Shirley Bassey. I’m a cultural chameleon, much like Leonado DeCaprio.

Once Dervla and Ronnie finally leave to find the waterfall, I begin the process of prettying myself up. Not, I repeat not because I intend to pull Gee. No. It is because I know gay men can be harsh critics of style. I’ve seen documentaries (or perhaps lifestlye programmes. I forget. I was only watching them under duress from Ronni) And, once lunchtime has passed (i eat the remainder of the chicken salad, which proves I am not ungreatful, nor entirely reliant on fatty food for my nutirition) I return to Nice Ice.

It is always nice to be greated by a smiling face. Unfortunately, since the only person in the parlour as I enter is the guy behind the counter, that is not to be. I’m not even sure he hears me enter, but as I cough loundly to attract his attention, he looks up.

‘Oh. Its the tourist. Come here for more of our world famous ice cream. Or do you just hate me’

‘Actually’ I say ‘I just wanted some more of this scintillating conversation’

He almost smiles. But I assume he remembers himself and returns quickly to his bored glare

‘Have you seen…’ I begin. he does his best to look hurt

‘so you didn’t want me at all. You were looking for Todd and Gee? I’m heartbroken’

‘Have you seen them?’

‘This morning, yeah’

‘And? Did they say they were coming back?’

‘I don;t know whether I should say’

My heart drops. It literally shatters and falls to pieces on the linolium floor. And by literally, I mean figuratively. My eyelids begin to droop and I can feel tears welling forth

‘Oh don’t cry. Look, they’re just not the most reliable sorts. I’m sure they didn’t do it on purpose. Its just they were in here, and there were a couple of girls with them.’

‘I don;t suppose, by any chance, Todd and Gee are gay?’

‘you, Mina, are seriously messed up’

‘Oh. So you remembered my name?’

‘Its etched on my list of things which make every second of my life more painful’

‘You never told me your name, you know’

He points to a badge on his chest. I read it out

‘Cormag? Thats a name?’

‘It means son of defilement’

‘I’m not sure you should tell people that, Cormag’

‘Or possibly son of the charioteer’

‘What charioteers do in their spare time is their own business. Now, since I’m going to be incredibly dissapointed, I’ll be needing you to give me the biggest ice cream this parlour sells’

‘Comming right up’

Chapter 5 :

I ate an awful ot of ice cream this afternoon. Cormag was awfully nice about it in a surely, sarcastic sort of a way, and gave me quite a lot for free. On the condition that I don’t tell anyone and ruin his reputation. I told him he was a sweetie and he scowled at me. As I left he shouted ‘And don;t come back’ which has a whole different sort of a ring to it than ‘have a nice day’ Refreshingly honest in a way. I walk up to the front door of the house and am seriously beginning to wish I hadn’t had quite as much to eat, on account of the stomach pains. Perhaps Cormag is a forward thinker and plans his torture methods well.

Ronni and Dervla return a few hours later. The door bursts open and they are practically screaming in shrill high pitched voices. Laughing, joking and hitting one another playfully. Ronni sees me and her face drops. Seconds later Dervla too is deadpan. What have I done to upset them? Well, apart from the whole betraying them for boys who didn’t exist thing. They don’t know about that. Or do they? How could they have possibly found out? They exchange a brief glance with one another, then join me sitting in the lounge

‘how was the water fall?’ I ask

‘Oh. It was water. It fell’ Dervla says tersely.

‘Yeah. Falling water.’ Ronni replies. Now I know Ronni is mad at me. She can rave about practivcally anything. There is only one possibility. They must have seen me today, going into Nice Ice. Breaking the fatty food rule. I quickly try to think of a way to explain my actions, but ultimately there is no way to explain why I was there. It isn’t even as if frozen yoghurt has reached backwoods places like this yet. High fat ice cream is al that was on offer.

‘What did you do with youself’ Dervla asks, each word tripping over the other to get out of her mouth as quickly as possible.

‘Oh, nothing much’ I say, hoping htey won’t press me any further ‘just sat around not doing much. What do you want to do tommorow?’

Please note the speedy change of subject. I like to consider myself something of a master in such matters. But I find that the subject isn’t so much changed as killed. Ronni and Dervla just sit in cold stoney silence, not saying anything. Best holiday ever? I’ve lost both my friends, been stood up and put on about a thousand pounds through eating comfort ice cream. I ponder my feet, avoiding eye contact for what feels like hours and eventually take refuge away in my room.

This, it seems, is what Ronni and Dervla have been waiting for, as, the moment they hear my bedroom door shut, and are convinced I am safely outside of listening range, they begin to talk. THough Ronni and Dervla don’t recon with the aging piping system which transfers the words of their conversation to my room with crystal clarity.

‘we should just tell her’ Dervla says

‘No. We made the rules. Breaking them is serious. Things like this can ruin a friendship.’

‘but honesty is the best poilicy. We should bring things out into the open’

I can just imagine Ronni shaking her head in disbelief. We are all old enough to know how much I’ve betrayed us, put it behind us and work towards a new trust, built on the firm grounds of undhakeable friendship. Discussing it would only open wounds, give us a chance for reciminations. It could be fatal. Moreover it could involve me having to ‘fess up.

‘Dervla’, Ronni says and I wait for her repost (which is likely to be ‘why don’t we forget our troubles by baking a nice plate of cookies’, but will get the drift across) ‘I suppose you’re right’

No Ronni. Bad Ronni. Go with the cookie plan Ronni. DOn’t go with the humiliating mina plan. Thats a bad plan. There are footsteps on the stairs. You sometimes hear them in horror films and you begin to sweat because you know the monster is getting closer with each creak of a floorboard or thud of a shoe. And as the footsteps get closer you get more and more afraid, because you are trapped and are ultimately going to sucummb to the inevitable demise. Unless, that is, that you’ve been totally innocent throughout the film up until this point. If you’ve been innocent and nice, then you might be able to overpower the beast for long enough to get down the stairs and flee into the night.

And I’m innocent. I’ve not done anything wrong. I have a chance to escape. Who am I kidding. I’ve just been made mayor of betrayal city. I’m doomed. The footsteps stop ominously and there is a knock on my door.

I straigten up my back, wipe the hair from my face. Hold my head up high and say ‘come in’

There is a pause. A moment of tense anticipation, then the door edges open and Ronni and Dervla walk in. Dervla’s face is as grim as I’ve ever seen it. She doesn’t make eye contact, her mouth is a little pouting line as she mites her bottom lip. Ronni has lost all sparkle from her eyes. I think I can see a tear welling in one.

‘Look guys’ I say ‘ I know what this is about’

‘you do?’ Ronni says, her face now more glum than before

Devla nodded ‘I wondered if you had realised’

‘We can get over this, right?’

‘Right.’ Ronni nods ‘No need for anyone to get angry. Not where boys are concerned’

Up until this point, I have to admit I had entertained the notion that perhaps we were speaking at cross purposes. Perhaps Dervla and Ronni had used up all the cereal or somthing and were anaccountably ashamed of their actions. Hearing the word boys struck my heart like a dagger. Todd and Gee hadn’t even been there today. They must have known all along after all. The whole show this morning must have been there way of trying to get me to prove loyalty to them, to the rules over some half with boys who didn’t even show up.

Dervla takes my hand in hers and presses her thumb tightly against my palm

‘Mina’ she says. Her voice is wavering and her eyes are about to explode into a flood of tears ‘I’m sorry we broke the rules’

‘I’m sorry too’ I say, and hug Dervla. I feel Ronni’s arms warp around both our shoulders. Dervla and ROnni are sorry. Everything is fine. We can go on as friends. THis could still be the best holiday ever.

Dervla and Ronni are sorry? They broke the rules?

‘Do you want to tell me what happened’ I ask, pulling out of the hug.

Ronni looks down at the feet, blushing a shade of pink which matches her jumper.

‘We were going to go to the waterfall, but on the way to hire bikes, we ran into Eugene and one fo his friends’

‘Eugene? Stalker Eugene from last year?’

‘Yeah. Well. Perhaps we were a little harsh on him. He is sweet, I suppose’

My eyes widen. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This boy pestered Devla for the best part of six months and now shes hanging around with him. And deceiving me.

‘So why did you say you went to the waterfall? Why didn’t you just tell me?’

‘The no-boys rule was mine. I didn;t think I ought to break it. You seemed to like the idea of us being here for each other. And its not like I’m going to see him again. I made that totally clear’

‘She did’ ROnnie says ‘she told him at least three times that she wasn’t going to be able to go out with him. He seemed to take it quite well, all things considered.’

Well. They had betrayed me. But, I thought, given the circumstances, I could overlook it. Perhaps now would be a good time for me to confess too. For me to share what I had done and accept their forgiveness, after all, at the moment it looked liek I was being the kind one, and that Rooni and Dervla were the lepers asking for my salvation (Yeah, film references are good and everythign, but possibly, just possibly, comparig myself to Jesus in Quo Vadis is going a little far. Never the less, I think I would make a good messiah: I might not have the looks for it, but I would so be able to do the beautific assension thing. And I could probably cope with the not being appreciated in your own village thing too. Noone appreciates me as it is). If I am going to appologise, now is the only time to do it. Any later and I’ll come over as incinseer. I take a deep breath

‘Ronni, Dervla?’ I say ‘ Who wants to go to the waterfall tomorrow?’

***

‘Dervla, We have been walking for two hours now. Mostly uphill. We have seen two waterfalls, both from the bottom and the top. You still ahvn’t explained to me why we need to see waterfalls from the top in the first place. After all, the water all comes down tot he bottom in the end, and you don’t have to climb to get there. But more over, in all this time while we have been walking, I don’t think you have said a single sentence which hasn’t sterted, endeded or otherwise contained the word Eugene somethere within it.’

‘You’re exagerating. I might have mentioned him one or two times, but eugene was really nice yesterday’

Ronni turns to me and rolls her eyes conspiritorially ‘Dervla, you are so obsessed with that boy’

‘I’m not’ Dervla’s walking pace quickens, and I have to Run to keep up. Ronni hangs back, her heals not being ideal footwear for the earthy path we are walkign on. ‘and anyway, If I was’ Dervla shouts back to where Ronni is currently removing one of her shoes to check the heel ‘I wouldn’t have told him three times that I didn’t want to go out with him’

‘It wasn’t like he asked three times. It wasn’t like he asked once’

‘He probably thinks we are still going out. I thought I ought to get the point accross to him’

‘Anyway, Mina keeps saying she in’t interested in Tom Spiers and we know thats not true’

I decide no to rise to their baite. The world is full of men better in every way than Jerkface. At least Todd and Gee didn’t decide to humiliate me in front to the whole school. They just humilited me in front of Cormag, and, since he always treated me as if I was humiliating myself with every woord I said, that wasn’t really mcuh of a loss at all.

Ronni catches up with us, and we decide to rest and drink the thermos of coffee we brought with us

‘These rules’ ROnni says, looking over towards Dervla, who is dreaming about something, or more likely some one, and not noticing that I am tring to pass the flask to her ‘Do you think they really are all necessary?’

‘You think we should drop the restriction on boys? You shock me Ronni. I thought you were far to puritanical to ever let such a sthought enter that sweet little mind of yours. Oh, and by the way, did you make this coffee, it seems to have bit of a kick of Baileys to it’

‘Well, maybe half a bottle’ Ronni admits. ‘But given that Dervla has found somebody’

‘And that you want to find some bodies too’

‘I don’t just llok for their bodies’ ronni pouts. ‘I look for the things they clothes their bodies in, too

‘Lets see how things go’ I say and stand up, readdy to start walking again. After all, I might be able to get an explanation out of Gee and Todd. Or at least an introduction to some of their friends. Think positive, Mina, you know it makes sense.

Chapter 6

The next day is going to be the first day of the rest of my life. Except it rains. I try valliently to urge Dervla and Ronni to come out of the house with me, but Ronni insists that she has washed her hair, while Dervla is intending to wait for Eugene to call on her. Not that she has told Eugene she might be willing to go out with him after all, or even that anything has changed, its just that Dervla is currently subscribing to the ‘treat them mean, keep them keen’ school of relationships. I can only assume she replace one of her books with one of Ronni’s copies of cosmo by mistake, nevertheless it worked with Eugene last year, so I suppose it has a chance.

I however decide to brave the wet outdoors, my intention, to find Todd and Gee and find out precisely what they thought they were doing leaving me waiting all afternoon. First I walk to the rock outcrop on which we first me. I don’t expect to see them there, but I think it is fitting saomehow. The sea is billowing under the heavy wind, and the rain falls heavier from the sky. I am the only person out on the sea front, and the rain and strong winds are the readon why. I struggle to keep dry under my umbrella, but I fight a loosing battle against the wind. And there is no battle to win – Todd and Gee are clearly not foolish enough to be out in conditions like this. I could, perhaps, imagine Todd taking the opportunity to go out surfing, but not Gee.
And, given the weather I become dishearted about the only other place I can think of finding them. Why would anyone ever want ice cream in this weather, I can’t imagine. But it is the only chance. And I don;’t mean any disrespect, I mean we’ve already established that you are a discerning sort, but you havn’t tasted Nice Ice ice cream: its something special I tgell you.

So I retrace my steps towards Nice Ice. Looking in through the shopfront windows that line my route, I see people sitting inside pitying the poor fool who has decided to go outside. Eventually I reach Nice Ice. My hair is sopping weps, drips of rain water fall from it onto the floor. My clothes are equally drenched. Even if Gee and Todd were inside, I couldn’t face them looking like this. Defeated I turn to leave, but my exit is blocked by a big leather jacket, a big pair of jeans and inside them, Cormag.

‘Hi’ I say and try to edge around him, but Cormag stays in my path

‘Going somewhere?’ He asks

‘I thought you didn’t want me bothering you’

‘True. But hanging around dripping in the entrance. Thats almost as bad’

‘Well, if you’ll let me out’ I begin, but he interrupts me

‘Out? But you havn’t been in yet’

‘I’m too wet to go in’

‘You’re too wet to live, girl, but you’re not going to fix that by going out there’

‘huh’ I say and make another unsuccessful attempt to pass Cormag. He is right though, the weather outside is terrible.

‘I’ve got some stuff in the back you can wear if you’re worried about being more of a drip than usual’

Well, with clothes I could at least avoid looking like an idiot in front of Todd and Gee. And despite everything, I really could do with some chocolate ice cream – I’ll have to ask Comrag if he has any hot fudge sauce.

‘You do realise you’ve just talked me into staying’ I say, putting down my umbrella

‘I’ll live’ Cormag says, and smiles. I have a sneaking suspicion he has a reason for wanting me around, but I want food, and at this point am prepared to risk more or less everything, so I swing the door open, and stride towards the counter, behind which is the back room in which I expect to change. But I stop. Because sitting at one of the tables, staring directly at little wet me are Gee and Todd.

I drip on the floor and behind me, I hear Cormag laugh.

‘you bastard’ I shout and flick my drenched arms towards him, spraying water over his face

‘Waht was that for?’ he asks. I sence incredualrity in his voice, but I also sense incinserity. Really I don’t think he have ever been sinceer in his life. ‘There are still some dry clothes out back if you want them’

I follow Cormag behind the counter and he opens a cupboard marked staff uniforms

‘Uniforms?’ I ask

Cormag smirks. ‘Yeah. Not really my thing. But you’ll be able to pull them off’ He reaches in and removes a vision in pink and cream.

‘Urgh’ I say, holding it up in front of me ‘Ronnie would love it’

‘Pardon?’

‘Nothing. These’ll have to do I say’

Cormag stands there. I wait in silence. He stays there. I wait a bit longer. No movement.

‘What?’ I shout

‘Nothing’

‘Well, if you think I’m changing while you stand there’

‘Whatever’ and Cormag walks back out front.

I dress myself, and spend a few minutes trying to tell myself that it isn’t too bad. I call pull this off. I might not have the cute and dangerous Ronni look, but I have my own subtle charms. I look down towards my underdeveloped chest. Very subtle charms. Practically subvocal.

No.

Petite and fabulous and bedecked in colours reminiscent of a raspberry ripple. I hold my head up high, smile my brightest smile and stroll confidently out.

My confidence lasts for a good two seconds, then Cormag doubles over laughing. Todd and Gee join him in his merriment as soon as they look over to see what the commotion is about.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen. And when I say that, I’m referring to you two. I was lying about the Gentlemen. I present the latest member of the Nice Ice franchise, Mina Bennet’

‘huh?’ I turned to Cormag

‘Well, I could do with a hand. If you want a job for a week or two, you can have one. You fit the uniform, thats more than these two Nice Ice rejects ever managed’ Cormag gestured to Todd and Gee. Tod and Gee gestured back, but their gestures were a lot less friendly.

‘You could do with a hand? Theres never nayone in here’

‘You havn’t been here in the evening, have you?’

‘It gets busy?’ I ask. Visions of Coyote Ugly flash in front of my face. I’m really not sure I’m up to that.

‘We do alright, don’t we Todd’

Todd looks up, ‘This place is on fire after nine, man’

‘I’m goning to have to think about it’

‘Let me know tomorrow. I havn’t got that much time’

‘Will do. Now, while I’m still a customer, I want some ice cream’

‘Coming up’

I turn to Todd and Gee. They dodge my gaze. You can tell they still find the whole situation hilarious, but suddenly they’ve realised that they have something to be embarassed about, or at least somthing they feel they should be embarassed about. I hear it said they are pretty much the same thing to boys. I take my place at the table opposite them and we sit in silence. Cormag brings over my ice cream, and I begin to eat it.

I pop the cherry into my mouth and pull out the stalk between my teeth. When ROnni does that it always looks increditly sexy as she twists it around her pinky. Me, however, well it get stuck, so I tug the stalk harder. It stays stuck between my front teeth. I can’t push it back in either. I pull it harder, yank it. It comes free, but my hand slams down into the double fudge surprise sending the spoon flying 2001-like across the room.

‘I think you have some explaining to do’ I say through my furious blushes. I’m not convinced Todd hears me over his laughing, but Gee has enough composure to reply

‘About the other afternoon?’

‘Yes, about the other afternoon’

Gee looks pained

‘Something came up. I didn’t know how to let you know. Its not like I know where you were staying’

‘You could have left a message’

‘Well, Cormag could have told you’

‘He did.’

‘So, no hard feelings then?’

‘You stood me up’

‘Yeah, but with good reason.’

I recall the girls Cormag described ‘two good reasons, if I’m not mistaken’

‘You think. You think I didn’t turn up because of the other girls?’

I nod

‘I suppose you’re right. But it isn’t like it sounds’

‘Go on. Were these magic girls who shouldn’t upset me. Do they have special powers I should be made aware of’

‘One of them was an ex of mine. I hadn’t seen her for a long time. We had some catching up to do. Some appologising’

‘Appologising’

‘Yeah. I did some things to upset her. But I’m a changed man’

‘Changed?’

‘very much so. Now I rescue fair damsels in distress and feed them ice cream’

‘And your ex?’

‘Still very much in the past’

‘So’ I ask. I raise my voice’s pitch to sound a little more like Ronni when shes flirting ‘Do you have anyone in the present?’

‘Not right at this moment, no’

***

‘I’ve got a job’ I announce as I walk though the cottage door

‘A job?’ Dervla shouts back ‘arn;t you meant to be on holiday’

‘What are you doing’ Ronni calls

‘Its at a place called Nice Ice. I’m a waitress’.

‘At an Ice Cream parlour?’ Ronni asks

‘Only in the evening. We can still do stuff together in the day’

‘We’re gonna have to change our plans as far as fatty foods are concerned then’

‘Oh, they have a good range of fruit smoothies on late night’ Dervla suggests

‘You know Nice Ice?’ I ask

‘I’ve been here before, remember. This is my summer house’

‘When did you go there’

‘Its where I hung out all of last summer’

‘You think I’ll be alright workign there’

‘You’ll be fine. Cormag will look after you’

‘Cormag can sit and spin for all I care’

‘Yeah. He does that to you’

‘Comming down tonight’

Before Dervla can answer ROnni jumps in ‘You bet! If we’re breaking the rules, we might as well do it in style.’

I can feel my ultimate holiday slipping out beneath my feet. At least Gee and Todd will be around for moral support.

***

I had never seen Nice Ice at night, so I have no idea of quite what to expect. The floodlighting came as a bit of a shock, as did the music blaring out. Mor Coyote Ugly flashbacks ran through my mind. I wasn’t a struggling but gifted shy musician. I was a struggly but gifted shy nobody. If I got over my shyness all that would happen was I would become a nobody. plus there was no way I would do any near naked gyrating on the bar: well, not unless the icecream got especially good in the evening.