“Mooorning”. Syllables duly dragged, Naomi dropped into the
train seat opposite Max and Mags. It was a point of pride for the three of them
that they never phoned each other before nine o’clock in the morning; they
liked to prove to each other that they were not yet co-dependent. If they met up on the train, it was by coincidence. There was a
long pause.
“Morning.” This was with more emphasis. Mags looked up dully, pushing back a lock of dark red hair, dyed. “Hi.” Max looked up and gave his little half-smile.
“Jesus, you guys are lively.”
Mags grimaced. “Blame history. I understand that 19th century British politics is important, but couldn’t they have taken a break from legislation and done something…I don’t know, important AND fun?”
Max coughed amusedly. “What, like windsurfing?”
“You laugh, you always laugh,” Mags stabbed a finger at them both, “but I honestly think the Great Reform Act would’ve been a lot easier to pass if at least one Whig was into extreme sports. How do you say no to a liberal in a wetsuit?”
“It’d be madness.”
“Exactly!” Mags slumped again. “Anyway, I was up until midnight. It’s the least fun I’ve ever had after dark.”
Naomi grinned. “I reckon I can cheer you up.” She fished around a bit in her cavernous bag and pulled out five, shiny looking rectangles. “We’re going to see…a play.” This was, of course, in her best Pippa Middleton accent.
“A play?”
“A play.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “I feel very middle class.”
“Don’t you though.” Mags had approached Joanna Lumley levels of drawl.
“My dad did some of the specialist set building,” Naomi put in, “and it’s also kind of a new production so they want anyone to show up.” She paused. “I mean it’s supposed to be really good, but Cambridge is the first place they’re doing it, so –“
“Bad plays are almost better than good plays, so it doesn’t matter.” Mags waved a hand. “Who are we inviting, anyway? I dunno who qualifies to tour with the Ely Massive.”
“Christ, we have a name?” Max looked sceptical.
“Of course. You can’t be as awesome as we are and not put a name to it.” Mags shrugged off-handedly. “I say we invite Alfie.”
Naomi gave confused face. “Is he the big one?”
Max spoke. “He’s from the Hearse, I think, private school guy. Quiet, though. He’s not a dick.”
“He’s nice.” Mags nodded. “He gave me a pencil, he’s in my tutor group and we’ve got most of our frees together. I like him.”
“What about Eddie?” Naomi shook her hair back a bit. “He’s the guy who sits at the back in German. Always looks stoned. He’s funny.”
Max thought. “I like Dylan.” Mags and Naomi both gave him the same confused look, which would’ve made him smile, except for the fact that people always forced him to explain his smiles. “Newspaper guy. The one really eager to take the arts and books section. I think he’d appreciate the play best.”
“But he’s so moody.” Naomi was sceptical.
Mags frowned, slightly bemused that she’d forgotten his name. “He’s not, he’s just…sarky. I think he’s funny in the right space.”
Max shrugged. “I prefer him over Alfie.”
Mags scowled. “I’ll take anyone over Eddie, I think he just thinks he’s funny and people go along with it.”
They looked at each other, realised they’d just cancelled out each other’s choices, and laughed. Mags thought to herself. “Why don’t we just…talk to all of them. For a week or something. And then decide in a week?”
Max and Naomi looked at one another, thought to themselves, then nodded. Naomi gave a cat-like smile.
“This is the first interesting thing to happen all year.”
“Morning.” This was with more emphasis. Mags looked up dully, pushing back a lock of dark red hair, dyed. “Hi.” Max looked up and gave his little half-smile.
“Jesus, you guys are lively.”
Mags grimaced. “Blame history. I understand that 19th century British politics is important, but couldn’t they have taken a break from legislation and done something…I don’t know, important AND fun?”
Max coughed amusedly. “What, like windsurfing?”
“You laugh, you always laugh,” Mags stabbed a finger at them both, “but I honestly think the Great Reform Act would’ve been a lot easier to pass if at least one Whig was into extreme sports. How do you say no to a liberal in a wetsuit?”
“It’d be madness.”
“Exactly!” Mags slumped again. “Anyway, I was up until midnight. It’s the least fun I’ve ever had after dark.”
Naomi grinned. “I reckon I can cheer you up.” She fished around a bit in her cavernous bag and pulled out five, shiny looking rectangles. “We’re going to see…a play.” This was, of course, in her best Pippa Middleton accent.
“A play?”
“A play.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “I feel very middle class.”
“Don’t you though.” Mags had approached Joanna Lumley levels of drawl.
“My dad did some of the specialist set building,” Naomi put in, “and it’s also kind of a new production so they want anyone to show up.” She paused. “I mean it’s supposed to be really good, but Cambridge is the first place they’re doing it, so –“
“Bad plays are almost better than good plays, so it doesn’t matter.” Mags waved a hand. “Who are we inviting, anyway? I dunno who qualifies to tour with the Ely Massive.”
“Christ, we have a name?” Max looked sceptical.
“Of course. You can’t be as awesome as we are and not put a name to it.” Mags shrugged off-handedly. “I say we invite Alfie.”
Naomi gave confused face. “Is he the big one?”
Max spoke. “He’s from the Hearse, I think, private school guy. Quiet, though. He’s not a dick.”
“He’s nice.” Mags nodded. “He gave me a pencil, he’s in my tutor group and we’ve got most of our frees together. I like him.”
“What about Eddie?” Naomi shook her hair back a bit. “He’s the guy who sits at the back in German. Always looks stoned. He’s funny.”
Max thought. “I like Dylan.” Mags and Naomi both gave him the same confused look, which would’ve made him smile, except for the fact that people always forced him to explain his smiles. “Newspaper guy. The one really eager to take the arts and books section. I think he’d appreciate the play best.”
“But he’s so moody.” Naomi was sceptical.
Mags frowned, slightly bemused that she’d forgotten his name. “He’s not, he’s just…sarky. I think he’s funny in the right space.”
Max shrugged. “I prefer him over Alfie.”
Mags scowled. “I’ll take anyone over Eddie, I think he just thinks he’s funny and people go along with it.”
They looked at each other, realised they’d just cancelled out each other’s choices, and laughed. Mags thought to herself. “Why don’t we just…talk to all of them. For a week or something. And then decide in a week?”
Max and Naomi looked at one another, thought to themselves, then nodded. Naomi gave a cat-like smile.
“This is the first interesting thing to happen all year.”
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