A. Michael - Goodbye Ruby Tuesday

‘Total bullshit,’ Ruby nodded and Evie looked at her witheringly. ‘What?’

‘Stop agreeing with me just to show you’re on my side.’

Ruby held up her hands as if she was being held at gun point, ‘I am on your side. I also think that woman hasn’t got a clue. And I think anger’s useful.’

They pushed through the doors to the art room, letting them swing heavily behind them. Evie sat on the same stool as she had that first day she’d met Ruby, and Ruby sat on the windowsill – long legs hanging, the holes showing on her black dolly shoes, getting out a bottle of nail polish to dab on the ladder on her tights. She only had bright pink.

Evie was quiet, drawing frantically, and they sat like that for ten minutes. Ruby was silent as she tried to fix her tights, and then started blotting nail polish on a piece of paper, attempting to make a pattern. She knew Evie didn’t like to talk at times like this. Eventually she heard the rustle of a gold chocolate wrapper, and when she looked up Evie was delicately nibbling at the end of the chocolate bar, looking at her.

‘Sorry I’m such a bitch.’

‘Good thing you’re an artist – no one puts up with bullshit like this from accountants or people who work at Burger King.’ Ruby grinned, ‘Give me some of that?’

Evie broke off a chunk and chucked it at her.

‘So… your dad’s back?’

Evie stilled, then took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘Yup.’

‘And?’

‘And… that man really pisses me off.’

‘Shocking that the guidance counsellor hasn’t made the connection. It’s pretty damn obvious.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Evie snorted, ‘who doesn’t love a good cliché? She mumbled some bullshit about attachment theory and Freud and then asked me if I ever felt confused about my sexuality.’

Ruby made a ‘that was a mistake’ face, ‘Oh boy. And what did you say?’

‘I said I was confused about whether her degree was one of those images that already comes as a background to a frame in IKEA, and maybe she should think about actually cracking open a psychology book before slamming me with her mumbo jumbo.’

‘Detention?’

‘Nope,’ she grinned, ‘that’s the beauty of it. Anything said in there is “an authentic expression of my feelings”… can’t get in trouble for being authentic.’

‘Hmm, think I’m going to use that next time I want to slap Nicki Bridwell in the face.’

Evie tilted her head and Ruby shrugged. ‘Started going off about kids in care, and how we’re all fucked up.’

‘Want me to slam her head into a locker?’

‘Nah,’ Ruby twitched her nose, ‘I’m not that bothered about it. I think I might just tempt her boyfriend into leaving her and then let them sit in the wreckage of it all.’

‘You never do things the simple way, do you? It’s never just telling people how you feel.’

Ruby smiled, ‘Now where would be the fun in that?’

***

The next afternoon they were summoned to the Glass residence. Well, that’s how it felt. In reality, Evelyn Glass, their new landlady, wanted to invite them to afternoon tea to celebrate their arrival in London.

Evie was nervous for some reason, dawdling as she walked with Esme ten minutes down the road, hands swinging back and forth as the houses seemed to get bigger and more grand. Esme’s eyes got wider as she took in stained glass windows, huge metal gates fencing off properties bigger than she’d ever seen before. She gripped Evie’s hand tighter.

‘So why is this lady asking us to her house?’ Esme frowned, looking at the houses with suspicion.

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