#1: Josie's Revenge... Author: Gem, Location: Saltash/AberystwythPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 10:05 pm Josie (CBB, not CS) tiptoed forward, holding her breath in an attempt to stay quiet. Hilda was sat on the edge of the Auberge, singing quite happily to herself. The empty bottle of champers lay beside her, and Hilda grabbed it, tipping it back as far as it would go to get the last of the precious alcohol out. Jo fumed. Not only had Hilda… well, she wasn’t entirely sure what Hilda had done, but she’d drunk the alcohol, and that was an act punishable by death in itself!
“I will survive!” Hilda slurred loudly. “As long as I have Weetabix, I’m sure I’ll stay alive!”
She paused. Those weren’t the words… but she was sure that they were something like that. Oh well.
“I will survive!” she continued, even more loudly, and Jo grimaced. For all her talk about the beauty of music – oh wait, that might have been someone else? Dan? Den? Ooh, Dirty Den, blast she’d missed Eastenders – Denny! That was it! – anyway, Hilda was tone deaf. And hearing her sing was not a pleasant sound. At all. Jo thought she might cry, actually. Then she noticed the bottle of wine lying behind Hilda, and decided that crying could wait.
Making a frantic stealth mission to dive behind Hilda and grab the bottle of wine, Jo lay still as Hilda looked around. “Who’s there?” Hilda hiccupped. “I kno-ow you’re ouuut there! Come out, come out, whoever you are!”
Deciding that Hilda was really rather stupid, Jo lay still. Not for long, though – Hilda soon resumed her singing – Flying Without Wings by Westlife, this time – and Jo was able to dash back to her space by the tree. She soon disposed of the bottle of wine, and lurched forward again to try and continue, but stopped. Ooh, headrush. Jo decided that she was, in fact, rather drunk, so she sat down by the tree to have a little snooze. Since Hilda appeared to have passed out, she decided that there was no harm in doing so.
She woke up only a few hours later – and Hilda was still quite happily laid there, snoozing away. She had obviously woken up for some time, as the empty champers bottle had been replaced by a half-full bottle of vodka, and Jo happily stealthed that one as well.
Standing over Hilda, Jo gave a sigh of regret. Sad, really. All she’d ever done was be perfect. Perhaps… maybe, this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She, Jo, was a good person. She was beyond this.
Turning away, Jo failed to notice the champers bottle lying behind her. She tripped over it, and then sprawled flat across the grass, noticed that she had kicked Hilda. The esteemed Head of the Chalet School was clutching onto the edge for dear life, begging Jo for help.
For a moment, Jo considered helping her.
Then she shrugged. Len Maynard, Kathie Ferrars, Nancy Wilmot, Mary-Lou Trelawney – all were waiting in line to become Head of the Chalet School. There were plenty more where she came from.