Storytime: Macbeth

Prologue

Prologue

The weather in Nameless, being governed mainly by plot requirements, was of an almost Chestertonian unpredictability. The town's permanent and temporary residents had learned that the opportunities presented by a fine day should not be lightly ignored, and on a hot, cloudless day like the one on which this story opens, nearly everyone headed straight for the beach.

Samantha Briggs looked around at the other members of her party. Victoria, pale and elegant in a full-length white cotton dress, was reclining under a parasol. Zoë had put on her swimsuit but didn't seem to have the energy for swimming; she was lying on her towel with her eyes shut, neither completely awake nor completely asleep. Isobel Watkins, with the aid of sunglasses, a bikini, a cocktail glass, and a copy of 'Thunderball', was contriving to give the impression that James Bond might whisk her away on an adventure at any moment. And Gia Kelly, hardly recognisable in shirt and shorts and with her hair down, was entirely absorbed in trying to finish her melting ice cream before it disintegrated completely.

"You know what?" Samantha said.

Isobel languidly looked up. "What?"

"We look like we belong in an anime. You know, the sort with one lad and millions of girls. We could call it 'Jamie's Angels'." She looked along the beach. "Where's he got to?"

"He promised he'd be here," Victoria said patiently. "Stop fretting, Samantha. That must the the twentieth time you've asked."

"Twenty-third," mumbled Zoë, without opening her eyes.

Gia gulped down the last of her ice cream.

"Could you pass the sunscreen?" she said. "Thanks."

Samantha obligingly handed over the tube of lotion, which Gia began to apply to her face and arms.

"What is it with you girls from the future?" Samantha asked. "Put that much on and you'll be as pasty tomorrow as you were today. Zoë's just the same."

"You should pay more attention to the dangers of ultraviolet radiation," Gia replied. "We're following the latest World Zones Authority health guidelines."

"Mmmm," agreed Zoë.

"Anyway, I was always taught that fair skin is a sign of elegance," Victoria said, making sure she was completely within the shade of the parasol.

"Yeah, but being tanned's cooler," said Samantha.

"You won't look very cool when you're bright red all over," Isobel said. "And your gear really doesn't cry out 'sophistication' to me."

"You what? When I went to New Brighton in this, everyone said it was the grooviest thing they'd ever seen."

"That's what I meant," Isobel replied, with all the disdain of a London fashion photographer for anything outside the capital. "It's so provincial."

Before Samantha could retort, she was distracted by female shrieks and wolf-whistles from further along the beach. She looked round, and discovered the cause: Jamie was strolling nonchalantly in their direction, clad only in tartan swimming trunks and flipflops, and carrying a rolled-up towel.

"Sorry I'm late, lassies," he said as he arrived. "Guid tae see ye all."

There was a general chorus of welcome from Victoria, Samantha, Isobel and Gia; Zoë managed to mutter "Hello" but still didn't open her eyes. Jamie glanced over the gathering and picked a spot between Victoria and Isobel. As he spread out his towel, a bulky volume was revealed.

"What's that?" Gia asked.

Victoria leaned over.

"The complete works of William Shakespeare," she said. "You're doing very well with your reading, Jamie. I'm so proud of you."