Ya should do lesbo George Osborne x ed balls...... Please
Skateboards, Skirts and Sunny St Aldate's
no major content warnings. a little bit of fluff and angst.
anon, i did not know that ed balls and george osborne had a podcast together until this afternoon. i have peered down a rabbit hole that i am scared to delve deeper into. anyway, i really truly hope you enjoy this and do let me know if you want me to write more <3
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The term back at Oxford had just begun. Crisp morning air, blue hues, and cumulous clouds lurked above. Last night’s alcohol consumption was today’s regret.
Edith Miliband lingered across the road from Christchurch College, fingers shoved awkwardly into her jean pockets. She stared blankly into the middle distance, occasionally tightening her shoulders to brace against the odd gust of wind. There was only so much woollen jumper could do to block out the Autumn.
She had balanced her skateboard haphazardly against the stone facade of a neighbouring pub. The venue itself seemed oddly quiet for a Sunday morning. She moved her hand to adjust her hair clip, twiddling nervously with the sprig of lavender tucked in there for decoration. The friend she was waiting on always loved these little details.
Edith sighed. It seemed the whole world had more fun than her last night.
Edie Balls was predictably late, scuttling down cobbled alleys with a face of concern that could only be attributed to having tripped over her flared jeans before. Edith had always habit of bugging her to get a shorter pair. Alas, Edie had other things on her mind.
On the best of days, her hazelnut shag cut resembled a bird’s nest, but it seemed last night, at least, it had been pillaged by a hungry fox. Narrowly avoiding a lamppost, the woman rushed around the corner and crossed over to Edith’s delight.
“Edie!” Miliband cheered, noting and tucking away her friend’s desperate state for further conversation later, “Wonderful you could make it!”. Edie readjusted her own skateboard against her hip and saluted.
“Anything can be achieved with enough berocca”. Edith snorted.
“I hope your Union friends didn’t have you up doing lines again”
“Don’t be daft, E,” she rolled her eyes, “Come on, let’s grab some grub while they’re still serving”. The pair set themselves down in a small window nook. Across the room, the landlord was stuffing logs into a burner. Odd specks of dust and wood chips flaked into the atmosphere, rippling through the odd creep of sunlight that peered through the windows above.
Edith tapped her fingers nervously against the roughened table before readjusting her spectacles; Edie carefully balanced her skateboard between her hip and the window.
“So, the skateboard life…you’re finally interested in learning from the best,” Miliband began. She tugged at her striped jumper as Balls reached into her jeans for a cigarette.
“I can assure you, you’re safe within the palms of my very capable hands”. The lighter clicked and an amber crackle of tobacco swelled into a plume of relief.
“Which is why you’ve brought me to the top of a hill”
“Which also happens to be a main road”
“There are plenty of neighbouring parks!” she interjected. On cue, Edith waved down a bartender for two large glasses of red.
“And are they any good for skateboarding?”.
A pause. Edie’s right eyebrow dramatically arched.
Miliband straightened her shoulders in retort.
“You’re a feisty one this morning”.
The speaker of the week droned on. Why Edie had paid all this money for entry to the Conservative Union, she hadn’t a clue. It had all gone downhill since the year last.
Dejectedly slumped next to one hunk of a cricket player, Edie had been practising at pretend-listening, fiddling with the silver wrapped around her index finger. She had stolen a glimpse at the blonde’s uniform, deciphering from the embroidery that his surname was Cooper.
“At least it’s not double-barrelled” she had thought to herself.
As if but a tranquil splash of evening light against the wall, Georgina Osborne had slipped almost soundlessly into the function at the eleventh hour, presumably to join whatever Bullingdon shenanigans was to occur shortly after. To the greying birds nest dying of boredom over here, however, the moving figure became an ever-expanding speck of interest.
Edie’s heavy gaze tracked the slit at the back of her pencil skirt all the way over to Gove. The fabric had been delicately ironed so as to create a polished appearance. And yet curiously, a long leather jacket sat folded across her arm, not so much as a countercultural statement piece but as a badge honouring her cultural breadth.
There was just something about her. Perhaps it was in how her hips gently swayed despite her shoulder’s assertive frame. Or perhaps it was the way her three inch heels left confident, clog-like clicks against the concrete. Maybe even most of all, it was in the way her warm face gleamed as she greeted her friends with polite yet radiantly sincere embraces.
As the figure snuck a look back over her shoulder, a wave of light caught against her charcoal hair, dappling momentary rainbows against the cold stone walls. The bright colours merely served to deepen the intensity of the Thatcherite blue sitting just above her knees. Her piercing gaze swept a wave of lasers across the crowd before settling back upon her company for the evening.
The golden evening hues retreated.
“Oi! I’m speaking y’know!” muffled Edith through her bacon sandwich. She swallowed back her mouthful as she playfully whacked Edie’s hand.
“Oh, uh, I apologise!” Balls blushed, eyes retreating to her lap. Her ring, once left to sit still on her finger, had now left a purple streak on the skin below. She swiftly crushed the wasted cigarette into the ashtray.
Edith readjusted her glasses once more.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You look like you’ve been dragged through a bloody hedge! No offence meant by that, of course.”
“No, none taken,” waved Edie.
“Well, I’ll be taking that sorely neglected glass off of you,” scowled Edith, opportunistically pouring the Malbec into her own goblet, “the skateboarding association recommends learning while sober. And that, my dearest Edie, is what we’re going to do”.
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