Cast the First Stone by Margaret Thornton Page B

Alison. ‘There’s plenty of room. Paul, could you grab that stool from the next table, then we’ll have enough seats.’
    â€˜Er . . . I don’t think we should, really,’ said Fiona. ‘We’re not old enough, are we? You lot are all eighteen, aren’t you? But we’re not . . .’
    â€˜You must be nearly eighteen though,’ said Jean. ‘You’re only a year below us at school.’
    â€˜Next year actually,’ replied Diane. ‘My birthday’s in April, and Fiona’s is in May. I don’t know about you two,’ she said to the lads.
    â€˜We’re almost there,’ said Dave. ‘I’ll be eighteen next month, and Andy the month after.’ He sat down on the bench. ‘Come on, you lot. Don’t be daft! Nobody’ll know if we don’t say anything. It’s impossible to tell how old we are. And they’re not going to ask for our birth certificates.’
    â€˜They might,’ countered Fiona. ‘And supposing Colin and Sheila walk past? They’d be really annoyed with us.’
    â€˜I doubt it,’ replied Diane, sitting down on the stool at the end of the table. ‘Stop worrying, Fee, it’ll be alright. Anyway, we look eighteen, if not more, when we’re not in our school uniform. Come on now; sit down and shut up!’
    â€˜Oh, alright then,’ said Fiona. But she was still feeling apprehensive. It was the first time she had ever been in a public house. Well, she wasn’t really in one now, she told herself, just sitting outside, but it still amounted to the same thing. And she had scarcely ever drunk anything alcoholic. At one time her parents had used to buy a bottle of port or sherry at Christmas time and she had been allowed a little sip. But they no longer did so. It seemed that alcohol was one more thing that was taboo, like dancing or going to the cinema or wearing make-up.
    â€˜What are you having then?’ asked Paul. ‘It’s my round.’ As the only one of the group who was working he had a little more money than the rest of them to splash around. And they all knew that Whiteside’s garage on the main road leading to Leeds was quite a prosperous one. ‘Dave and Andy, what about you? A pint of Tetley’s, eh?’
    â€˜Yes, why not?’ replied Dave. ‘That is if they sell our famous Yorkshire brew here?’
    â€˜Yes, of course they do,’ said Paul. ‘That’s what I’m drinking. What about you girls?’
    â€˜Oh, an orange juice for me,’ replied Fiona. ‘Thank you very much, Paul.’
    â€˜Now come on,’ said Paul. ‘You want something a bit more exciting than that!’
    â€˜What are you drinking?’ Fiona asked Alison and Jean.
    â€˜Lemonade shandies,’ replied Jean. ‘You should try one.’ But Fiona was not too sure about that. She didn’t think she would like the taste of beer, even if it was diluted with lemonade.
    â€˜Er, I don’t think so,’ she said. She was starting to feel a bit silly and immature next to these more sophisticated girls; they seemed to know so much more about what was considered ‘cool’ to drink.
    â€˜I know, I’ll have a gin and lime,’ announced Diane. ‘Go on, Fee; you have the same. My mum drinks that and I’ve had a taste of it. It’s nice; you’ll like it.’
    â€˜Oh, alright then,’ agreed Fiona, knowing she would look a fool if she hesitated much longer.
    Paul, the man with the money, ordered their drinks from the barmaid who was hovering near. They arrived in a few moments; two pint glasses of frothy amber coloured beer, and two smaller glasses holding liquid of a most appealing shade of lime green.
    Fiona tasted it warily, then decided it was not bad at all, in fact she liked it more than she had expected to. She drank it rather more quickly than she should have done. Diane, she noticed, was