Araminta

'Araminta! Come on, we'll be late for school!'
Araminta awoke to the sound of her best friend Ruth calling from the
garden.
She drew back the curtains, and sure enough there was Ruth, standing
waving beneath the majestic old oak tree in her scruffy, ill-fitting
uniform. Araminta dressed quickly and ran downstairs eagerly, her
golden hair streaming behind her like the tail of a comet.
She smiled as she walked towards Ruth, stepping daintily over the weeds
and stinging nettles. Ruth also smiled, revealing her crooked teeth,
although anyone but Araminta would probably have interpreted her
expression as a grimace.
Ruth took Araminta's hand and they set off for school, Ruth gabbling
about nothing in particular. Ruth was ordinarily a shy, introverted
girl, but when she was with Araminta her mouth didn't stop moving.
Araminta listened patiently, occasionally complimenting Ruth or
agreeing with her when she was telling of how horrible Ryan, her
parents, their class teacher and generally everyone else in the world
was.
Araminta was used to this - she had known Ruth for a while now and had
come to love her clumsy, odd personality that other people found
irritating.
By now they had reached the school gate. Ruth stopped talking, catching
sight of Ryan coming towards her. The sight of Ryan coming towards you
would probably make you stop talking even if you weren't shy and
introverted.
'How's Araminta today, then?' Ryan jeered.
'She's fine,' Ruth said uncertainly. If Ryan had asked you your name
you would have answered uncertainly.
'Still not talking, then?' Ryan said nastily. 'When's she going to say
something herself?'
'She doesn't want to talk to you,' Ruth said. If there was one person
quieter than Ruth, it was Araminta.
'Why would anyone not want to talk to me?' Ryan asked.
Ruth decided she had better not answer truthfully. Ryan was a boy who
didn't obey the unspoken rule about not hitting girls.
'She's a bit shy,' Ruth answered, which was true enough.
Ryan grunted, decided even he didn't really have grounds for hitting
her, and wandered off to find some for hitting someone else.
'It's all right, he's gone now,' Ruth whispered to Araminta.

In chemistry Araminta took her usual place next to Ruth, at the back of
the class. Ruth didn't like chemistry, and neither did Araminta,
although she was very good at it. Ruth hated it most when they had to
do experiments, like today. They were given some liquids and an
instruction sheet, but before Araminta had a chance to start the
experiment, she knocked one of the conical flasks over. The glass
shattered and a pool of red liquid oozed out and over the floor.
'Ruth! Clean that mess up at once. And you will stay behind at
lunchtime!' Ruth's teacher didn't like Ruth, and leapt on any chance to
punish her like a tiger leaps on its prey. He hadn't actually seen who
had knocked the flask over, but Ruth was in the vicinity so he
automatically presumed it was her.
'But it was Araminta!' Ruth wailed.
'If you pretend it wasn't you, you will stay after school too!' the
teacher barked.
Ruth tried to stop the tears; the class were already laughing at her
enough, but she couldn't. Araminta tried to console her, but Ruth
continued to cry.

Finally it was the end of school. Ruth and Araminta skipped out of the
gates, the disaster in chemistry forgotten for the moment. This was
Ruth's favourite part of the day. She loved walking home with Araminta
along the tree-lined avenues, rays of sun filtering through the leaves
and making exciting patterns on the pavement. They passed the post
office, the corner shop, the ice-cream van that had always run out of
chocolate ice-creams. They stopped briefly at Araminta's house so she
could drop off her school bag, and then continued to Ruth's. As they
walked hand-in-hand, Ruth wondered about Araminta's parents. In all the
time she had known Araminta, she had never seen Araminta's parents, and
she never talked to them. In fact, Ruth had only been in Araminta's
house once. Most of the time Araminta came to Ruth's house. Ruth didn't
really mind though, as long as she was with Araminta. As she reached
her house, she dismissed the thought.
She put down her school bag and called to her parents that she was
going to the park with Araminta. She did this every afternoon after
school. They sat on the swings, kicking their legs and eating
ice-creams from the van, talking and laughing in the sunlight.
They stayed there until the sun began to sink behind the slide and
climbing frame, and even then Ruth was reluctant to go. She loved
Araminta's company - her gentle, tinkling laugh, the way she listened
to Ruth's problems, her pretty face framed by her long blonde hair. In
a way Ruth idolised Araminta - she was everything Ruth wasn't but
wanted to be.
So it was sadly that Ruth went home to tackle her homework, saying
goodbye to Araminta at her door.
And in the park the sun sank lower behind the slide and climbing frame,
its dull red glow reflected in a drop of Araminta's chocolate
ice-cream.

'Araminta! Come on, we'll be late for school!'
The next day began as usual, with Ruth calling from beneath the oak
tree. But once they reached school, things started to change.
There was a new girl in the class.
She bore a slight resemblance to Ruth - the same uncontrollable hair
which made you wonder whether she stuck her fingers in plugs for a
hobby, the same dumpiness, the same slightly askew features that looked
as if they'd been drawn on by the left hand of a right-handed
toddler.
Perhaps this was why the teacher told her to sit next to Ruth, the
place normally reserved for Araminta. Ruth was upset at first, but as
the day went by she found she quite liked Emma, and had a lot in common
with this shy new girl.
Ruth found out Emma only lived one street away from her, so they were
able to walk home together. Araminta walked with them, but Ruth was too
preoccupied with Emma to notice her very much, and Emma didn't seem to
notice her at all.
Even so, it was uncharacteristic of Ruth not to do anything when
Araminta decided not to come to the park. She and Ruth had gone there
together every day for as long as she could remember, only missing days
when Ruth was ill.
But Ruth walked on, talking to Emma as if nothing unusual had happened.
She introduced Emma to her parents, and told them she was going to the
park with her.
'So where's Araminta, then?' her father asked, surprised.
'Oh, she's not coming,' Ruth replied nonchalantly and walked out of the
door.
'This could be a breakthrough,' her mother said as the door closed. 'I
was getting really worried about her and Araminta. I'm sure she's not
good for Ruth.'

Ruth couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed herself so much.
Yes, she had had fun with Araminta, but that was when she hadn't known
about this kind of friendship. And Emma was so interesting, and talked
more than Araminta. With Araminta, Ruth had had to do all the talking,
and sometimes it got a bit tiring.
As they sat on the swings, kicking their legs and eating ice-creams
from the van, a drop of Emma's strawberry ice-cream fell to the ground,
exactly where Araminta's chocolate ice-cream had been.

Over the next few weeks, Ruth saw more and more of Emma and less and
less of Araminta. She no longer sat next to her in class, she no longer
walked home with her, she no longer went to the park with her. She had
almost completely forgotten about her by the time Emma came round for
dinner.
After they had eaten, Ruth showed Emma her bedroom, a privilege only
previously shared by Araminta.
Emma glanced around the room quickly, before her eye was drawn to the
large window and its magnificent view. 'Who lives in that big house
with the oak tree in the garden?' Emma asked, gazing out. 'It looks
really spooky.'
'You mean Fantasy House?' Ruth said, looking out the window to where
the oak tree stood, alone and forlorn among the weeds and stinging
nettles. 'It's empty. No-one's lived there for years.'
'Oh, right. Hey, who's this?' Emma enquired, turning away from the
window and pointing to a crayon picture on Ruth's wall.
'That's&;#8230;an old friend.' Ruth replied. 'Actually I don't know
why the picture is still up there. I don't see her anymore.'
'Why?' asked Emma, as Ruth pulled the picture of the wall. One corner
ripped off and stayed attached to the wall.
'Oh, she, erm, moved away. We lost touch.'
'That's sad. Do you have any games we can play?'
'Yes, they're in this cupboard,' Ruth said, tossing the picture into
the bin. To a keen eye, the word 'Araminta' was just visible, written
in faded pencil.
As she opened the cupboard door she looked out of the window again,
across the road to Fantasy House. She thought she saw a pale face in
the window.
It flickered, then disappeared.