Side Story 2: Raye & Jadeite-- Part II
Author: Alsepang
Rating: PG-13
E-mail: alsepang@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Called fanfiction for a good reason. Fiction,
            characters borrowed, non-profit, and by a fan.
            Fans should be encouraged. 'Tis detractors who
            should be shot. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

            Raye Hilton slumped in a corner of the pub,
fingers still curled round the stem of her empty glass.
She shut her eyes, trying to ignore the cigarette smoke
that curled around her and made her eyes water. She wanted
to kill that smug-faced, cold-hearted woman who called
herself her friend. If thoughts and wishes could come
true in an instant, London would have been mourning the
death of one of the beautiful, charming and wealthy
Serenity Houghton-West. True, Raye Hilton wouldn't be
the only one wishing her dead, but...

            Earlier that day, at about four in the afternoon
to be precise, Raye Hilton had been called into a conference
room by some of the higher-ups. Four people looked up when
she entered. Two were senior members of the company; a
third was-- surprise, surprise-- Serenity Houghton-West,
who had acknowledged her with a brief nod and smile, as
if they hadn't just lunched with each other hours before!
The fourth person-- and this was where it really rubbed--
was Jadeite Jensen, the crème de la crème of creeps, looking
very handsome, serious and professional.

            "Raye, you and Jadeite will advise Ms Houghton-West
on possible investment opportunities in Asia," one of the
higher-ups had intoned importantly. "Jadeite will be in a
merely supervisory position, so really, Raye, you will be
Ms Houghton-West's main advisor."

            Jadeite had looked calm and Raye had known that
his calm was reflected in her own external appearance of collected
poise as she nodded briskly. But how she yearned to tear out
Serenity's hair! Without a doubt, Serenity had meddled in her
personal affairs! Ho, it wasn't *merely* coincidence that she
and Jadeite were assigned together, or that Serenity was their
"client"--

            "Oh! I'm sorry," exclaimed a plaintive-sounding
female voice as she jogged her elbow into Raye's side. "I'm
so sorry! Did I hurt you? Oh, I'm terribly sorry!"

             The black-haired young woman opened one eye in
response and shrugged before mumbling, "Don't worry about it."

             There was a pause.

             "Uh-- um-- you don't remember me, do you?" said the
same plaintive voice nervously.

             Raye stretched both her eyes to the limit, peering
at the young woman next to her. She looked familiar-- the tiny
mole on one cheek reminded her of someone...not Cindy Crawford
.....someone else...someone unpleasant...like rotten eggs...

             "I'm Gwendolyn May. We-- we were at school together.
I, uh, I was Beryl Ashleigh's room-mate."

             Raye sat up straight, sweeping back a curtain of
hair and looking hard at the newcomer, who squirmed under her
direct gaze. Ah, yes-- rotten eggs-- Beryl. That was the connection.
Ginny May-- that was her name. She had been a timid little thing,
mouse-like, completely under Beryl's thumb. That was why Beryl
had hated Raye-- it was Raye's sharp tongue that often freed
Ginny May from Beryl's bullying ways and Beryl hated being
made to look like a fool. Needless to say, she also hated the
thorough way Raye cut her down-- Beryl was clever, but she did
did she have the wit to match Raye, nor was she as popular.

              Raye tilted her head, reasonably alert despite
having imbibed a fair amount of alcohol.  Gwendolyn May had
grown into a rather pretty woman. She still had that wide-eyed,
terrified look about her that had made her the school mouse
ages ago, but she also looked happier than Raye remembered,
and her face didn't look as pinched and miserable as it used
to. Her hair was also quite a different colour-- wonders
could be done at any decent salon in London, or else out of
a bottle that could be bought at Tesco's.

              "Of course I remember you," said Raye with
a smile, making an effort to be gracious and helped by
her light-headedness. "Ginny May, am I right? It's so
nice to see you after all these years. How are you?"

              Ginny May's smile was relieved. "I'm so
glad, I was so worried you wouldn't remember me," she
said in a rush. "I-- uh, I'm married now, I'm very fine,
and uh, thanks for asking." She smiled shyly down at the
hand that sported what could only be a wedding ring of
triple platinum bands twisted around three square-cut
diamonds. It was a very unusual design, that, and somehow
familiar, although Raye's brain was slightly too befuddled
to figure out the significance of that design.

              "Uh-- perhaps you'd like a drink?" suggested
Raye. She peered into her glass. "Uh-- sorry, I seem to have
drunk it all up."

              Ginny May shook her head. "Not thanks," she
said apologetically. "I can't hold my drink very well. Uh,
actually, I-- I saw you come in here ages ago and I-- I
wanted to talk to you, but I-- well, I wasn't sure, you
know, if you'd want to talk to me anytime."

              "Oh." Raye tried to think. Her usual burning
curiosity was, well, burning merrily now. Like any true
female of the human race, she could not rest once someone
had intimated that there was something to be told, and Ginny
May sounded important and secretive. "Perhaps we could go
somewhere else? I can't hear you very well and this place
just stinks of cigarette smoke. I hate it."

              "Why are you here if you hate it?" inquired
Ginny May curiously as they got up to leave.

              Raye pushed some pound notes and coins across
to the bartender and turned to go. "Because if I went anywhere
else, I'd run into my colleagues, and this is one time I *really*
want to be alone."

              "Oh." Ginny May coughed slightly. "Well, then
perhaps I should catch you another day..." Her voice trailed
off uncertainly.

              Raye took the other woman's arm and gave her
a dazzling smile that made two men trip over their feet,
another three males smile their best back at her, and
about half a dozen more hapless men forget what they were
doing or supposed to be doing. "No, that's all right. You
did say you wanted to talk to me something, didn't you?"

              So they talked under the stars of a London
night in May, and Serenity Houghton-West received a call
from an irate husband accusing her of bullying his wife,
Gwendolyn May Chyne, who had gone home in tears.



(c) Copyright 2002 Alsepang Tyun