The Line

The Line - Part Four

4

Next morning, the alarm on my multi goes off at quarter to six, as always.

   ‘I will never get used to that ridiculous surround-sound on your bloody multi,’ Seph mumbles sleepily, pulling her pillow over her head. She’s ratty first thing in the mornings, not her normal peaceable whimsical detached self at all. ‘It’s like being at a bloody concert. Not even a good one. ‘  

    ‘Okay, okay, keep your hair on, I’m turning it off.’

    I do just that, plunging the room back into silence. She turns over and goes off to sleep again as I get out of bed. It‘s a pitch-dark winter morning, and I have to put the light on to see anything at all as I start my time-consuming daily getting-ready routine. My hair alone takes more than half an hour to style properly with the right potions and sprays and gadgets – ironically, so it ends up looking like it’s just fallen that way on its own.  As always, I’m three quarters ready when the official wake up bell rings at seven o’clock and Seph gets up herself. 

    Once I’m four-quarters ready, I pick up my multi, put my coat on and leave the room. I stop off for Cordi and Guinni, as always. We all walk out of our boarding house together, and set off into the cold dark frost-edged morning, over to the Ref.

    In the Ref, the atmosphere’s weirdly subdued. All the lights in here are blazing, but behind the big uncurtained windows, it could be midnight. We all get breakfast from the well-stocked buffet - the same thing we always get, orange juice and low fat cereal – and go to sit down at our usual table. As we approach it, I see that more people - maybe as many as a third, or even more than that – are acting a lot like Rinda did last night. There isn’t much eating or talking going on, but a whole lot of staring down at plates and poking food about aimlessly. Even Guinni’s visibly quieter than usual.  Only Cordi seems entirely her usual self as we sit down with our trays.

   ‘You look tired,’ she announces, fixing me with a challenging look. ‘I take it Prince Charming kept you up late.’

   Somehow, I don’t want to admit that it wasn’t Christo who disrupted my sleep, but a bad dream I can’t even remember.  I try to speak lightly, matching her own flippant tone. 

   ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

   ‘Christ, you’re lucky, Minti. He is super stunning.’

    ‘And he’s awesome at literally everything,’ chips in Guinni, perking up a bit.

    ‘And his father’s going to be our next Vice-President,’ says Cordi. 

    ‘Is that official?’ I ask, startled.

   ‘Not yet - but you wait and see.  Remember, you heard it here first.’

   ‘Who told you?’

   Cordi shrugs airily. ‘Some of us believe in keeping up with current affairs.’  

   ‘He's just an RP, though,’ I say. ‘He’s not in the Elect.’

   ‘Not yet. But he’s very ambitious. And he certainly looks good on camera – don’t you think?’

    Guinni giggles. ‘The Housewives’ Choice.’

     The fact that even Guinni knows that nickname speaks for itself. In the normal run of things, she knows as much about politics as cats know about razorball. I’m not that much better-informed than her, but even so, I think I can see exactly what that nickname means. It means that his rivals don’t have anything whatsoever to use against him but the fact he’s too good-looking. If I was them, I think, I’d shut up. As far as I can tell, their efforts are doing exactly two things – drawing further attention to Peregrine Davenport’s impeccably vice-presidential appearance, and making themselves look petty and jealous.