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Agatha and William – An Attic chapter. By Sandra

The sun was so deliciously warm on her skin, that she sighed with pleasure and flopped back onto the picnic blanket. She took a deep drag on her cigarette, and listened drowsily to children playing, their shouts and screams thankfully far off; the kick of a football and the drone of a plane on its way somewhere even hotter than this park. She was lulled to the edge of sleep, but then giggled and Mandy, joining in, said ‘What?’

‘It just hit me. Ooooh I’m sooo chilled right now.’

Mandy laughed and slumped beside her ‘If your mum could see you now.’

Agatha snorted, ‘Fucking hell she’d have kittens.’ She picked up another cube of their special carrot cake, ‘Cheers Mum! Cheers Dad!’ and stuffed it into her mouth, closing her eyes in bliss.

‘God, not too much, you’ve had enough. That’s more than three spliffs worth!’ Mandy covered the cake tin up and moved it away from Agatha, who just stuck out her cake coated tongue.

‘Uurgh. Gross. Anyway, save some for your mum and dad next time your home.’ Mandy laughed.

‘I would- if I was ever going back. Which as you know I’m not. Not after what she said’ She turned an anxious face to Mandy ‘you said I could stay at yours for a while?’

‘Chill babe, I got you. As long as you want, you know that.’

Agatha relaxed, Mandy was a lifesaver, giving her a place after the Argument. So what if she stayed out late and had a few drinks? She wasn’t doing anything that her friends at school weren’t doing. Yes, there were actual boys where they went. No, she wasn’t…you know…with them. They were old that was the problem, mum was forty-six when she’d had her, a proper geriatric pregnancy, a last chance saloon, getting one in before last orders and all that. Sixty-two now. Sixty-two! No wonder they couldn’t understand a sixteen year old! Almost half a century between their ages. They were ancient and frightened of everything outside their perfect village life. Some of her friend’s parents were in their thirties and some of them still partied themselves. Hers were knitting and might manage a Bailey’s at Christmas, ‘Oh go on then, just the one, it is the Season, after all.’ She was living in an old people’s home. She’d taken the rest of the Baileys round to Mandy’s on Boxing day, it was a favour really, that stuff had cream in it, it didn’t last, and she couldn’t face the thought of them opening it next Christmas. Puke. They hadn’t seen it that way of course, ‘Our house, our rules.’ And ‘Have some respect.’ She just wanted to have fun.  She had slammed out of there, her dad still yelling.

 Her mood was getting darker, but a shadow fell over them, and she heard a deep voice say,

‘Hello girls. Lovely day, isn’t it?’ Mandy sat up, all suspicion, probably a weirdo-paedo. Agatha stayed lying back merely shielding her eyes, trying to make him out, but all she saw was a tall, slim shadow, broad shouldered. Promising. Nice voice too.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, brightly. The day was too good to be spoiled by anyone, and she was floating on sunlight, weed and a bright blue WKD.

‘Mind if I sit?’

‘Help yourself.’ She felt Mandy’s glare, but shifted her legs over on the blanket, long and tanned in the good weather they’d been having and looking their best in frayed shorts. She felt his presence as he sat, his warmth as he leant against her leg. Normally, she’d have jerked away; despite her bravado she was always tongue tied with boys. But today she was feeling as lithe and sleek as a cat, even sexy. Her cares were soaring away for a change.

‘What are you up to? Here to see the band?’

Mandy shrugged, playing cool, ‘What the local yokels? Might hang around. Sun’s out, why not? You?’

Agatha felt him shrug, and sat up, seeing him for the first time. Tall, that had been obvious, but now she saw his thick dark hair, deep blue eyes and lightly tanned skin. A square jaw, a ‘masterful jaw’ her mum would have called it. She read Mills and Boon. ‘Watch out for those types’.  Not the sort Agatha normally talked to, and he was older, maybe late twenties; she felt daunted and daring at the same time. She took another drag and blew smoke from the side of her mouth, crossing her ankles. She caught his sly glance at her legs, with a thrill and bit her lower lip, Mandy had said they liked that. She didn’t know what she was doing, but she felt ‘wanton’ – thanks Mills and Boon -under his steady gaze. He was sizing her up. She pushed her sunglasses up and stared at him, giving him look for look, the mix of alcohol and weed making her bold. What was she doing? This wasn’t her, but they held each other’s look, until Mandy huffed, ‘I’m getting a drink then’ and something that sounded like ‘gooseberry’. Agatha knew she was sulking, and she should go with her, ask if she was ok, but she was caught in this magical moment, like something from a film, new and exciting, that she hadn’t experienced before.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

‘Agatha. You?’

‘Hello Agatha. William.’ He placed his hand on his heart as he said it, a strangely formal gesture. He wore a t-shirt, but dark trousers and black shoes with it, not jeans and trainers like other boys. Men, she corrected.

‘You’re beautiful, do you know that?’ She flushed and looked away, laughing.

‘No, I mean it. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen. You hair – its lovely.’ He laughed, sounding self-conscious. ‘Sorry, if I’m being too forward.’

‘It’s ok.’ She fidgeted. She felt outside herself as if seeing herself in that film, from above.

‘Can I touch it? he asked, softly. She nodded, feeling shy. It should have felt weird, but she wanted him to.

‘Its natural? Not coloured? he asked.

She shook her head, her parents wouldn’t let her colour her hair, God forbid! Her mum liked it plaited or in pig tails. Pig tails, at sixteen! Today, she’d left it defiantly loose, the blonde waves falling over her shoulders, almost long enough to sit on.

He pulled strands through his fingers. ‘Like silk’ he whispered, and his hand near her chin brushed her face. She jumped, startled. ‘

Sorry, I’m really sorry’ he held his hand up. ‘You’re like nothing I’ve seen.’ He looked towards the stands, ‘here comes your friend. Do you want to join us?’ he nodded towards and group of young men and women at the edge of the park. One waved and he raised his hand, ‘come on. I’ll introduce you.’

‘I don’t trust him!’ Mandy shouted, ‘please don’t go.’

Agatha stuffed her clothes into the holdall. Where were her other knickers? She fished behind the radiator. ‘you don’t understand him, that’s all.’

‘Oh, I think I do’ Mandy looked grim. ‘We’ve all heard about that lot out there. Religious nuts.’

Agatha packed her toothbrush into a toilet bag, as Mandy continued, ‘No one can go near the place, A boy from the village said he almost got shot walking across the fields.’

Agatha threw some jumpers on the bed, ‘That’s what I thought at first, but they just do their own farming and catch rabbits and such, you know that. They don’t want people all over, ruining things.’

‘No-one ever comes out again.’ Mandy folded her arms.

‘It’s not the X-files. It’s a farm. A working farm. Organic. A simpler life. Not all this capitalist rubbish, where you work to buy things, you don’t need. We grow our own food and…’

‘’We’?’

‘Look Mandy, I’m grateful for the couch, I really am, but.., I have to Mandy. We love each other.’

Mandy threw up her hands and groaned.

‘And…we’re getting married.’

‘Married? Ags! You’re only sixteen.’

‘I am getting married.’

‘You need your parents’ permission.’

‘No. I need William. In the eyes of God, we can be wed.’

‘In the eyes of… what?’

‘Corinthians 7:36. ‘If his passions be strong, and it has to be, let him do as he wishes, let them marry, it is no sin’.’

‘Ag-a-tha, ‘Mandy stared in disbelief, as if she’d never met this girl she’d known since they were small and had shared her flat for three months. That girl seemed to be far away now; behind a wall she couldn’t breach.

Agatha looked at her friend, she loved Mandy, but it was like William said, she couldn’t understand, no-one could. Agatha had been chosen by God, but Agatha thought, most of all, by William, her tall proud preacher, an unbendable oak, of unshakeable faith. Handsome, intelligent. She had seen how other women looked at him, but he had chosen her. His bright angel.

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