Ladies at Lunch

The day wore on. After History Spook lead the way to ICT, where she promplty sat down by her computer and decided to fall asleep. She had finished the course several weeks beforehand, but Mr Jefferson had not arranged any more work for the early-finishers to do, so Spook contented herself with scribbling a few more plot ideas for her NaNovel on a sheet of paper.

ICT passed fairly quickly, and the moment the clock read 12:55 the class happily shook off their boredom and retreated to their respective houses for lunch. The Dun Holme dining room was busy as usual, people milling around in all directions, chatting to friends and re-filling water jugs. Slithering through the crowd in her well practiced manner, Spook parked herself at the end of her table and turned to Del.

"Right," she said. "Lunch usually takes about 45 minutes here, then we have until 2:30 before our next lesson. I'll need to check what Science set you're in, depending in which set you're in you do a different science each session. I know I've got Chemistry next and, presumably, you'd be in the same set. However, if you're a total Science boffin you might be in one of the Separate Science groups - the ones taking the extension course for slightly different GCSEs."

However, before Spook could get any futher in her lecturing, a gong rang from outside. With a groan Spook lurched reluctantly to her feet, Del following suit. The teachers processed in, Mrs Taylor in the lead, followed by Mrs O'Neill and a couple of the secretarial staff who visited occasionally. Mrs Taylor took her place at the head of Del and Spook's table, said a short grace, then turned her attention to the pots of steaming food that had been brought through by the kitchen staff.

"Ja ja, lovely food girls. You had a good day, having a nice time Del? Spook looking after you properly?"

Spook sniggered. Mrs Taylor's enthusiasm for everything never ceased to amuse her. Del nodded, then looked at the food. Spook followed her gaze, eyes widening in alarm.

"Okay," she said. "That's ... interesting."

The "chicken korma" that had supposedly been served to them was yellow. Bright, acidic yellow. Mrs Taylor however didn't seem to notice and served it out as if nothing was wrong. Spook prodded her chicken tentatively, sniffing it curiously for any suspicious smells. However, to her relief, it was simply the  colour of the sauce that was strange, and the chicken itself was rather pleasant. Heaping a small pile of rice onto her plate - and pointedly ignoring the rather slimy looking stewed vegetables that glared at her malignantly across the table, Spook passed the rice around to Del, who in turn helped herself to a portion.

"Don't worry," Spook hissed. "The food's not always this colour. I think they must have been experimenting in the kitchen again. Okay, we have two more lessons today and after that we're free for the rest of the afternoon. I think we should see Mrs O'Neill then about your dancing, just to see if anything's come up. Maybe after that we can have some fun."

"As long as it doesn't involve wet paper towels again." replied Del. Spook sniggered.

"Nah, we'll find a dryer pursuit this time, honest! And just as a random question, how's your plotting for NaNo going?"

Soon the two were heavily engaged in yet another writing-oriented conversation, comparing possible plot twists and endings, as well as Spook's rather bizarre question as to whether one could look very threatening when assualting someone with a spork. Del however simply laughed it off. Spook hoped it was because she found it amusing rather than worrying if Spook ought to be carted off to a mental asylum. Not that she would have thought the latter to be particularly unrealistic....

The End

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