Monica glanced up in surprise and found herself staring into the eyes of one of her former tormenters.
There was not the least glimmer of recognition.
‘You dog!’ One of David’s friends appraised her jealously and harangued David in a familiar manner. ‘Where you been hiding this one? Can’t say as I blame you, but. What school you from, Miss, if you don’t mind my asking?’
Smiling easily, David rejoined, ‘How ‘bout a small favour, Richard.’
Richard Dixon, the school rugby star, a tall, rawboned, solidly-built mass of muscle, with closely cropped auburn hair and freckles, was one of the few boys in the school who had never ill-treated Monica, and had even rescued her on occasion. ‘I only owe you nine or ten,’ Richard said, smiling crookedly. ‘As you well know! You’ve only to name it.’
‘All right,’ David said, smiling cryptically. ‘You’re in all of the classes that she and I aren’t in together. So if anyone dares call her Monkey Guts to her face, or says it anywhere near her, you’ll deal with them, politely but firmly.’
Richard, meanwhile, was staring at Monica, open-mouthed.
‘Good God!’
Richard was as shrewd as they came, and David watched with pleasure as the wheels turned round behind his mate’s deceptively loutish features. At last, eyes narrowing in comprehension, he said in a voice that sounded much more mature than his years allowed, ‘So she’s staying with you now. And a bloody good thing, too, if you ask me!’ To Monica, he said, ‘I had a hunch about why you let yourself go like that.’ He gave her a humorous parody of a leering grin. ‘Wish I’d been the one lucky enough to find out what you really look like! Here! Did you see that, Davie? She actually smiled! Almost, anyway. C’mon luv! Don’t you know it’s a crime to hide a smile like that from the world!’