It's not a long walk into town, perhaps ten minutes down a big hill. To make it a sure thing that I'd be caught when I returned I'd decided that I would have to stay out past dinnertime before returning to the campus. That gave me several long hours to kill in the village before I had to go back. I started by getting a cup of coffee and doing a little bit of reading in the sunshine outside a tiny cafe. Then I wandered off to a local bookstore and spent a while browsing the shelves.
It was a pleasant enough way to spend an afternoon, but every so often I would remember exactly what I was doing here, and exactly what was going to happen to me when I returned and my stomach would swoop unpleasantly. It wasn't too late to turn back now, I thought. I could probably sneak back into school grounds without anyone noticing and go on as normal. But just like before, along with the nerves there was a sliver of longing and excitement. No, there was no turning back now.
At four o' clock I headed down to the pub. I was not a big drinker, and I knew that it wouldn't take much to get me tipsy. It had occured to me that I could simply act drunk, rather than doing it for real, but I knew I wasn't that good an actor. I ordered a cider and a vodka and coke and went to sit at a quiet table in the corner. The pub was a pleasant enough place with a low ceiling and the constant scent of wood polish. I liked it there.
I polished off my drinks and ordered some more. Already I was feeling the effect. By the time six o' clock rolled around I was comfortably dizzy, and my nerves had all but dissolved in the alcohol. Despite my best efforts to keep my mind from straying I found myself shutting my eyes and thinking back to the assembly hall that day when Cherry and Elisia had been punished. I pictured myself up on stage instead of them, and felt a shiver run through me like a spark of electricity.
Time to go, I decided. I got unsteadily to my feet, collected my things and left the pub. The sky was beginning to get dark. Back at the school everyone would be sitting down for dinner, my friends probably wondering where I'd got to. I smiled to myself. If only they knew the truth.
The walk back up the hill took far longer than the walk down. I kept stumbling, dropping my handbag and stopping to rest. Quite frequently I found myself breaking out into giggles, overwhelmed by the sheer naughtiness and daring of what I was doing.
The giggling stopped when I got to within sight of the school. Suddenly everything seemed a lot more real, a lot more imminent. I began to wish I hadn't drunk quite so much. Still, there was no going back now. I marched up to the front gate and found it locked. I pressed the buzzer and waited, leaning against the metal rails.
It was a few minutes before a teacher came out to fetch me. It was Mr Harris, an English lecturer I recognised. When he saw me his eyes widened in surprise.
"Jane?" he said disbelievingly. "But I was just looking at the book. You're not signed out, are you?"
I shook my head. "Guess I must have forgot," I said, and was pleased to hear my voice had a slight slur to it. It was working perfectly. I would come across as the drunk girl keen to cover up her misdeed.
"Are you... have you been drinking?" said Mr Harris, his eyebrows rising still further.
I shook my head, the picture of poorly-disguised guilt. "No Sir, I don't drink."
Mr Harris considered me for a moment more, then his face hardened. He opened the gate and beckoned me through, and together we walked up to the school. I made sure to stumble a couple of times on the way up the path, just to remove any last trace of doubt.
He escorted me all the way to the main office, where I waited for a couple of minutes on the sofa by the door while Mr Harris went off to fetch someone. When he returned Anderson was with him, and the sight of the teacher in charge of discipline sent a delicious thrill through my belly. Was it going to happen now, I wondered. Right now? Was my fantasy about to come true. It almost seemed too much. I could feel myself growing wet at the thought of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment