I know I probably shouldn't be writing new stuff when I have so many neglected, incomplete stories, but I've been considering this idea for ages and was desperate to write something with Maxine in! Anyway, this is a theme that's pretty close to my heart so I hope I can do it a bit of justice. If you enjoy, or even hate it, please review! Any feedback is always very welcome. X
Michael Byrne waved his hand in front of his secretary's blank face for the third time. He was standing next to Sian Diamond, his deputy, having just finished the morning briefing.
'Hello? Earth to Janeece?' he said, snapping his fingers only half jokingly.
Janeece dragged her wandering thoughts back to the present and the man standing impatiently in front of her.
'Oh. Sorry. I- er,' she stammered, her face flushing uncharacteristically.
Michael rolled his eyes. 'I need you to print off some signs for me- it's the girls' football tournament today and there are five other schools coming. I want them pointing to the changing rooms, toilets and pitch.'
Janeece just nodded, biting her lip and busying herself at the computer.
Michael shook his head slightly before leaving the office, Sian hot on his heels.
'That was unlike Janeece. I've never seen her quiet like that before. Do you think everything's alright?' she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
Michael shrugged. 'Maybe she had a late night. Too much to drink. Maybe she's had a tiff with a boyfriend. Oh, I don't know. Ask her if you want to.' he replied non-committally, striding off in the directed of the staff room.
It was Sian's turn to be frustrated, directing a glare at the back of Michael's receding head. She sighed deeply. She had a hell of a day ahead, and was already regretting allowing Tom Clarkson to coerce her into helping with the girls' football tournament. She set off at a pace down the corridor- she'd check in on Janeece later.
WR WR WR
Janeece was still staring at the computer screen when the bell rang to signal the start of lunch. She'd only moved to answer the phone, the rest of the morning she had sat in the same position, her eyes locked on the unchanging computer screen, blankly staring at the date in the bottom right corner. Her eyes, usually heavily made up and glinting with mischief, were dull and red-rimmed.
With a jolt, she remembered she needed to print the signs for the football tournament, realising it would be starting soon. She did so quickly and stood shakily before taking Bambi-like steps to the door. She made her way outside to the field, heels sinking into the grass as she walked. She scanned the crowd for Michael but couldn't see him.
There was a sudden surge in noise, a huge cheer erupting from the Waterloo Road kids as the team jogged out onto the pitch, laughing infectiously. Janeece's throat constricted as she caught sight of the girls in their yellow and burgundy kits, joking and grinning as they started their warm ups. A huge swell of emotion rose within her as she was flooded with memories; sprinting down the pitch wearing the same kit and laughing with Maxine, celebrating every loss the same way they celebrated every goal, sitting in disgrace after scamming money for a new kit...
She watched as two of the girls burst into a fit of laughter, clutching each other and wiping their eyes. She had to get away; spotting Sian in the crowd, she ran to her, thrust the signs into her hands, turned on her heels and fled.
She ran through the throng of people, ignoring questioning stares and locked herself in a toilet cubicle. She felt drained of energy, physically unable to hold herself up any longer. Her legs folded beneath her, collapsing into a heap on the floor, her arms holding onto the toilet for support.
Then the tears came.
She sobbed. She sobbed for Maxine, she sobbed for Steph Haydock, she sobbed for herself.
Resting her head on her arms, she let the memories consume her. Memories of this day, all those years ago.
It was a perfect day, Janeece thought, which was ironic seeing as it was the worst day of her life. But then again, Maxine was not the type of girl who would ever leave this world on a rainy day. Sunshine so bright and so hot it was almost splitting the pavement seemed somehow appropriate. It summed up Max- Max's cheekiness, Max's spirit, Max's ability to never let things drag her down. Janeece was wearing a hot pink dress- not a standard colour to wear to a funeral, but she'd remembered something Maxine had said once- some giggly comment about how nobody had better wear black to her funeral. It just seemed right, somehow. Sort of a way of showing the world what Maxine was all about. She'd have hated all the black, formal stuff. God that's not Max.
She was nervous, so nervous she'd thrown up twice already. She was dreading reading the speech she'd been asked to prepare, dreading seeing her friends for the first time, dreading seeing the coffin that held her beautiful best friend. Dreading confirming what hadn't really sunk in yet.
She walked towards the church on her own. A familiar figure joined her, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder. Janeece looked up, surprised to see Miss Mason by her side. The woman gave a watery smile.
'Thought you might not want to be on your own,' she said softly.
The implication of the words hit Janeece like a punch in the stomach. It would have been Maxine. Max who would have been by her side, had this been any other occasion. She did everything she could not to howl.
Most of the funeral passed in a blur, Janeece oddly glad to have her headmistress next to her. She thought her legs were going to buckle when she stood up to read her speech, but a gentle, firm hand in the small of her back pressed her on.
'Eyes on me if you need to,' Rachel whispered.
She stood in front of the congregation, willing herself not to cry. Her voice croaked as she began.
'Most of you prob'ly know that Max was me best mate. Most of you would know us as 'Janeece-and-Max' and we 'ad a bit of a reputation for, y'know, causin' trouble an' that. Max was a lot of things. She was a great footballer. A brilliant friend. Everyone would agree that she was headstrong. She was feisty. She was a proper fighter! But what a lot of people don't know is that she was a softie too. One of the reasons Maxine was my best mate was because of how she looked at life. She would never let 'owt get her down. Right now I think she'd be saying to the lot of us Oh lighten up, 'av a drink!'
She broke off at the small, tearful laugh from the congregation.
'I know Maxine is gonna be missed by a lot of people. She was a big part of a lot of lives. And she probably had more guts at her age than most will have in a lifetime. Anyway. Max, if yer' listening? I miss you already. I love you forever.'
Janeece was pulled from her thoughts by the loud squeal of the door as someone entered. Then a tentative knock on her cubicle.
'Janeece? It's Sian.' came the soft voice. 'I've just been speaking to Tom. If you're up to it, he wants you to come outside. He's got something he wants you to see.'
Janeece slowly opened the door. Sian helped her up, carefully wiped away the blood where she'd bitten her lip, gently removed the mascara streaks from her face.
The two women made their way outside, around the field to where Tom stood. He smiled when he saw them, gesturing to Janeece to look at the large trophy that sat on the table.
'The Maxine Barlow Memorial Cup' was inscribed upon the trophy. Janeece felt her eyes grow moist again, but this time the tears were happy. Tom wordlessly pointed behind the table, where a cluster of balloons was tied. At the bottom of each string, a team photo was attached. When Janeece looked closer, she saw herself and Maxine in the middle of the front row, arms linked, laughing into the camera.
Tom had moved to be by her side.
'I thought we could release them at the end of the tournament.' he said, looking to her for approval.
'I thought- I thought you'd forgotten,' Janeece croaked, her throat dry.
Tom pulled her into a tight hug. The girl he'd seen transform from cocky teenager to, well, cocky receptionist. The girl who'd been without her best friend for all these years.
He spoke so only she could hear.
'Never.'