A.N.: First Jasmine chapter! Also my first time writing an unscripted conversation for these two. Please let me know what you think!

DJ

An understanding: Jasmine

I felt kind of bad about lying to Laurel but it was the easiest way to get out of seeing Dad. Without having to explain the complicated situation behind it of course. Now there was just the issue of finding somewhere to lay low for a couple of hours. This was a small village, but that didn't mean there weren't places one could stay out of sight. Daz had proved that.

I could have gone to the shed in the woods again but I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to be that removed from everything. The place of the incident yesterday was just as good. I settled down on the bench outside the pavilion and opened my book but after a few moments, realized it would be hopeless to try to vanish into the words again. They held no pull, not when my own life was screaming so loudly for my mental attention.

Still, old habits die hard. I pulled my feet up on the bench and lay the book open on my lap, if only to keep up appearances. I'd come back here to think about yesterday, about what had happened between me and Debbie. My cheek still hurt but not nearly as much as the words had.

She saw right through me with no hint of pity or remorse. She knew what I was and she despised it, she'd made that perfectly clear. But why would she feel threatened by me? I wasn't going to be here that long. I never stayed in one place too long, unless boarding school was supposed to count. There was no desire in me to get to know people, to make friends or boyfriends, I always ended up leaving them behind. After awhile it just got too painful. Distance does not make the heart grow fonder, it makes the pain deeper.

Debbie knew something of that pain I think. I saw it in her. She also knew the other pain I knew all too well: the pain of not being wanted. The pang called Loneliness. In that respect at least, the posh girl from Lancester and the foster kid from Emmerdale were the same.

My thoughts were broken as I saw someone approach me. I stiffened, ready to curl in on myself to avoid recognition but it was her. Debbie approached me slowly, her arms folded. I'd never seen her walk like that. Like she was nervous. She always seemed so confident.

"I thought you wouldn't be allowed out of the vicarage after yesterday…" She called to me as she approached the bench. The statement was challenging but it lacked any of that venom, that contempt she'd held up until yesterday. It was gentle, cautious almost but still with that hint of defense.

"I just apologized and promised not to do it again." I said, trying to keep my voice civil. No reason for it to come to blows again. "You should try it."

A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Well, I'd just try not to get caught in the first place."

We were both quiet for a moment. Debbie still had her arms folded over her chest.

"So you gonna sit down or what?" I asked.

"I don't need your permission." She replied but moved to sit on the far end of the bench.

"Wait, watch out!" I called, pointing to the spot.

She spun on the spot, startled. "What?"

A grin spread across my face. "I think that's where Daz threw up."

"Egh… minon…" She said, examining the spot with revulsion before sliding closer to me.

I giggled sitting up slightly so that she could fit. She settled herself down still eyeing the spot Daz had ruined.

I glanced at her over my book as she slid even closer to me to avoid touching the offending area.

She had always intrigued me. Right from the moment I first heard about her. Debbie Dingle. She had sounded like a character in one of my books. Her ordeal in the hunting shack had been straight out of fiction. Even her name: Debbie Dingle. It had a ring to it one never expected to find.

She seemed almost unreal to me. Untouchable, like something you could describe but that subsequently lost all meaning as soon as you attached words to it. I usually made a habit to avoid things like that. Those things are best left alone and un-described, un-ruined.

But it was more then that. Every time I saw her I couldn't help but freeze up. My entire body clenched just looking at her and my voice seemed to die in my throat. Even now I still felt some of that. Something about her just made me stop. Made me suddenly realize just how young and inexperienced I really was when it came to matters of the world. How easily I gave up.

While I'd been stealing glances at her and pretending to read, she'd been examining the ground with that same uncomfortable air I'd picked up on earlier. Her arms were still wrapped around herself. Where had all that cocky confidence from yesterday gone? To be honest, it disturbed me to see such an abrupt change in her. Was she nervous, talking to me?

Surely not the great Debbie Dingle.

Debbie had began to hum to fill the silence. Her voice actually wasn't bad. It was melodious, even if it was a little off key.

"Gwen Stefani?" I guessed, recognizing the melody.

She paused and shot me a glance."Huh," She said thoughtfully, then turned away again.

"What?" I asked, not looking up from my book but wondering why she'd stopped.

"Nothing just… you know American pop?"

I shrugged. "Of course, I love her."

"Really?" She sounded skeptical. "What's your favorite by 'er?"

"'What are you waiting for'." I answered smoothly. I knew my Gwen Stefani.

The dumbstruck look on Debbie's face was hilarious. "No way…" Yes Debbie, the posh girl knows her American artists.

I laughed. Wow, that felt good. When was the last time I'd done that?

I really don't know what it was but as soon as we started talking, we couldn't seem to stop. She told me about the music she liked, the magazines she read and the confusion of her extended family all living under one roof. I told her about traveling everywhere with mum and dad, about boarding school and the last-minute decision dad made to have me stay here this summer.
"I'd hate it if I got sent to boarding school…" Debbie said as I explained how my daily class schedule worked. By this point we'd been talking for over an hour. I had shifted so that I was sitting next to her on the bench, our shoulders occasionally brushing gently. My book lay tightly shut on my lap.

"Well I wouldn't particularly like having a baby…" I replied. I couldn't imagine how that must feel at that age, to have to care for a child.

"I heard about you having her in the woods." I said, wondering if this was the best thing to bring up. "Must've been frightening."

"Not really." Debbie said.

"That's not what Daz said, he was terrified."

"Yeah well it was nothing." She said in such a way that just convinced me it was anything but. "I don't really remember much about it to be honest. At least I try not to anyway." She looked down, clearly not wanting to talk about this anymore. "So what'd Ashley say about you scrapping and gettin' drunk?"

I smiled. "I wasn't drunk. Not like Daz." We both chuckled.

"No, Uncle Ashley doesn't know." I admitted. "Laurel decided not to tell him."

"How'd you swing that one?" She sounded impressed.

I shrugged. I really had no idea. Maybe Laurel really did pity me.

"You're not as much of a stiff as you make out are ya?" Debbie teased.

I laughed. "I don't think first impressions are ever right." Mine certainly hadn't been. "I wouldn't like to tell you what I first thought about you."

"Oh go on, I can take it." She assured me.

Well, here goes. "Well…" I started, wondering how best to phrase this. "Big mouth, small baby, no mother." Someone who had seen a lot of crap in the world and wasn't going to take anymore. Someone facing the world alone because she knew asking for help would make her look weak.

"I have got a mother," Debbie reminded me in an uncomfortable tone of voice, clearly remembering how quickly that topic had led to violence yesterday. "she's just away like yours."

"Where is she?" I asked.

"I just said, away." Debbie snapped back but in such a way that the delivery was gentle.

I nodded in understanding. "See." She had no idea where her mum was. Or if she was coming back. I'd already gathered that we had that in common.

Debbie sighed and shifted slightly as if anticipating me asking more questions. When I said nothing else however, she turned back to me. "Where are your lot?" She asked, clearly anticipating me refusing to say the way she had.

Reflexively, I stiffened but forced myself not to close off. She'd been honest about Sarah's birth, now it was my turn. "Well," I looked at my watch. "right now dad's at an airport wondering where I am."

"What do you mean?"

"He's changing planes between flights so I'm supposed to go and sit in some scruffy canteen eating rubbish with a plastic knife." The anger and frustration towards dad that had been simmering deep within me all day boiled up into my voice but at that moment I didn't care. It was just Debbie, not Laurel, not my Uncle. I knew she wouldn't think any less of me for hating dad the way I did right now.

"Sounds minion." Debbie said.

I nodded.

I had no idea why I was being so open with her. I never opened up to anyone and I hardly knew Debbie. Our few interactions hadn't exactly been pleasant.

I suppose it was because in general, no one ever really listened to me so I was inclined to keep to myself. I'd never had someone who asked about my life who understood what it was like. Sure there were people who asked about my parents' work and my schooling but they never really cared. They didn't understand the pain of being left behind, of being a mere afterthought in your parents' lives. A blemish.

But Debbie, Debbie listened.

We both had these circumstances in our lives, circumstances we hated and would not wish upon anyone but secretly cherished as our proof of the hardships of the world. Maybe that's why we were able to listen to each other so well. To understand each other so perfectly.

We kept talking until I looked at my watch and realized I was supposed to have been back from the airport half an hour ago.

"I'm sorry, Debs. I've got to go." I told her standing up.

She frowned slightly in surprise. "Debs?"

I glanced at her, an apologetic smile on my lips. "Sorry, too formal?"

She grinned at me. Her smile was actually quite infectious, I found it trying to work its power on me and winning. "Nah, I kind of like it." Debbie admitted. She stood up. "Come on, I'll walk with you."

"Jasmine where have you been?" Uncle Ashley yelled almost as soon as we got back to the main road.

"We're been worried sick!" Laurel chimed in.

"Why didn't you go to the airport?" Ashley demanded of me.

My initial response to yelling is usually closing myself up completely and being very timid in my response. I'd found that doing this usually made the reprimand gentler. Or escalated it depending on the person. But I didn't want to do that with Debbie standing right there. The anger at my father was still simmering from the conversation we'd had and I wasn't going to be seen as the perpetrator here. Dad was the one who had so generously allocated an hour of time for his daughter to see him. Was it really any surprise I'd backed out?

"I decided not to, I'm sorry I should have told someone." I said, squirming slightly but keeping my voice sounding only a little bewildered.

The half-applied tactic did not have its immediate desired effect on my uncle. "Well why would you do that?" Ashley was still shouting. He gestured at Debbie. "So you two could fit in another brawl?"

I turned to Laurel, outraged that she had betrayed our trust.

"well I had to tell him!" Laurel exclaimed defensively at my indignation.

"I should have been told in the first place." Ashley told her angrily.

A small bubble of guilt was starting to form under my throat at the trouble I'd caused for Laurel. I had to keep this from getting ugly. "Look Debbie and I…" I glanced at her and she met my gaze. "…We've come to an understanding." Was the terms I finally decided on using to describe whatever had shifted between us.

Debbie nodded in agreement. "yeah it's fine now, really."

If Ashley was surprised by this, he hid it very well. "I still don't understand how you could do that to your father." He chastised me, gesturing animatedly with his finger but some of the heat had gone out of his shouting.

"He only had an hour for me," I explained. "and I know he'd much rather spend his time doing paperwork so… I decided not to bother him."

I could feel Debbie's eyes on me as I spoke. I wanted to turn to look at her but part of me wondered if I'd really like what I saw. Was she pitying me? Laughing at my lack of parenting? Maybe before our conversation today I'd expect that from her but now… I supposed I'd see exactly what I'd just said. An understanding. "and it was too far to go anyway and I certainly didn't want to waste Laurel's time."

"You still lied to me…" Laurel reproached me gently, sounding very hurt.

The bubble of guilt grew. "I know, I'm sorry, I know you thought you were doing me a big favor by driving me and I didn't want to disappoint you."

Well, that was only half a lie.

Ashley's face contorted for a few seconds before finally deflating. "Well I suppose there's no harm done…"

I knew logic would get through to Ashley.

"As long as you understand why we were angry." He continued, gesturing at me with his finger again.

"Look, I know!" I assured him. "I do and really, I am sorry."

Ashley's gaze finally softened but not enough to be considered forgiving. "I think you should save your apologies for your father, let's go and ring him." He took me by the arm and pulled me towards the house. "Sorry Debbie." He said to her as he walked off with me.

Debbie shrugged. "Whatever,laters!" She called cheerfully.

"Bye!" I replied over my shoulder.

As Uncle Ashley led me back to the house, I couldn't help the small smile spreading over my face. It seemed I had finally found a friend.