Art Pact 130

The most notable thing about Mellie Jones was her walk - a kind of half-bird half-tiger stalking strut that looked as though it were being performed in slow motion. Opinion among the group varied one the matter of whether it were graceful or comical, with the lines being drawn generally (but not entirely) along gender divisions. Defectors from the party line were Nadia - who thought that Mellie's walking style was reminiscent of a catwalk model - and Boss Vince.

"She's pretty," Boss Vince conceded, "but she's not a model."

"I didn't say that," Nadia replied. "I said she walks like a catwalk model. It's not natural, but it's got something about it. A line."

"A bloody crazy line," said Boss Vince.

The group watched Mellie walking across the bridge every day. Mellie's family lived on the island and had no car, which meant that to get to school she was forced to cycle down the long beach on the inner side of the island before dismounting and crossing the kilometre-long stretch of the iron bridge that linked the little spit to the mainland. Their school, built so close to the bridge that the more daring members of the senior class could throw water balloons at passing traffic, offered an unrivaled viewing platform to observe Mellie Jones on her way in. She always arrived five minutes exactly before the bell, and since most of the group were there a good half an hour early in the interests of getting away from their various parents, they could guarantee that they would be in place and ready to greet Jones's peculiar stalking gait.

"I don't know why she doesn't just cycle over the whole way," said Boss Vince.

Dumpling, peering up from his homework (which he was, as usual, filling in at the last possible moment), coughed and pushed his tiny glasses up his nose.

"Would you leave your bike where Kevin Willoughby could get at it?" he asked.

"I suppose not," said Boss Vince. "I'd beat the hell out of him if he touched it, obviously."

"Obviously," Nadia chorused sarcastically.

"But it would be too much hassle to be worth the effort."

The mention of Willoughby set Lassa and Clicky into a little paroxysm of giggling blushes, which Nadia and Kim observed with some distaste. They had been trying to persuade the other two girls against this particular crush for some time now, but with little effect.

"My theory," said Dumpling, putting the finishing touches to some mistakes in his maths answers, "is that she has bendy baby syndrome."

Other conversations, even those involving the rugged attractiveness of the bad-boy Kevin Willoughby, came to an abrupt pause, and everyone looked at him.

"What the fli-" Lassa began, but Boss Vince, irritated with her inability to swear properly, cut her off in mid-sentence.

"What the fuck," he asked, "is bendy baby syndrome?"

"It affects the joints of young children," said Dumpling. "Extra long tendons or something. It makes it difficult for toddlers to learn to walk." He pointed one bony finger at the figure of Mellie as she stalked past them. "Perhaps she had to learn to walk with that... affliction." He savoured the word, as though its exotic rarity gave it a particularly toothsome taste.

Apart from Boss Vince, the three boys watched Mellie pass across the near part of the bridge with undisguised lust. Dumpling's bony shoulders trembled, Plain Dave's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his face, and Buzzcut's hands and face flushed red with embarrassment - one of his famous foot-to-forehead blushes. Boss Vince himself watched Mellie walking, but he sighed with apathy and rolled his eyes in the direction of Kim, who was making a disgusted face.

"You might be onto something there," Nadia said thoughtfully. "Perhaps she did learn to walk with some weird disease. Or maybe," she added, "she learnt to walk on the moon."

It was obvious that the others were rather amazed at this sudden turn towards science-fiction from their ordinarily rather down-to-earth friend, but they did not respond for another full ten seconds - the amount of time it took Mellie to complete her traversal of the bridge and disappear behind the beech hedge that separated the playground from the car park at the front of the school. As her left leg - the last part of her that was visible - vanished behind the leaves, the others slowly turned one by one to stare unbelievingly at Nadia.

"Alright," said Boss Vince. "Go on."

Lassa burst into a nervous laugh.

"It was just something I heard," Nadia said quietly. Boss Vince raised his left eyebrow quizzically. "Alright, something I heard from Klein."

"OoooOoooh!" chorused the other girls and Plain Dave.

"Shut up."

"So it's true, then," said Boss Vince. "You've got a crush on Mad Klein."

"Don't call him that."

"Fine. You've got a crush on Crazy Klein. Nutter Klein," he added after a moment. "Loony Klein." He waved his hands, trying to think of another alternative.

"Mental Klein," Plain Dave supplied.

"Mental Klein," Boss Vince repeated.

"Whatever," Nadia said.

They fell silent, and the boys shuffled around in their seats to wait the three minutes it would take Mellie to round the two stone ornamental giraffes that flanked the entrance to the school on the side away from the river, traverse the long low slope of steps that led up to the main doors, travel through the main corridor along which the arts, english, and history classrooms were arrayed, and emerge like some newly-hatched flamingo from the side entrance.

Usually, she would cross the playground to the far end and read until the bell went (a mere two minutes - as Dumpling had said, barely worth the time), but the conversation and Klein's theory had sparked a little flame of rebellion in Nadia's head. As Mellie appeared in the side door, her book already in her hand, Nadia began to march towards her. At first the other girl did not notice that anything was different, but she looked up just in time to avoid a collision and stood, blinking, staring down at Nadia, who realised for the first time just how much shorter she was.

"Hello Mellie," Nadia said.

"Uh.. hello?"