I was with MSB in her studio on a Sunday morning when one of her clients turned up with an urgent request. The vile orange nylon tent dress that she was wearing needed to be rehemmed. Please could MSB do it now?
I was intrigued as to whether or not MSB would accept this commission. If it were me, I would not do anything to encourage the further wearing of such a horrendous outfit.
All the other girls were clustered around HD-B as she revealed her darkest secrets. They were deliberately excluding me from the conversation.
I knew that I was in danger when I saw that the T twins had noticed me at the sidelines. I decided to leave – with haste.
Life on the streets was fine until the day that TPR and I accidentally killed a horse.
How would we dispose of the body without drawing attention to our crime?
The obvious answer was to burn it at a remote location, but how would we transport it there?
Now I understood why the soup at lunchtime tasted so good: the school office staff had taken to spending their mornings making fresh batches on campus.
Today the office fridges were crammed with pumpkins to be roasted with garlic and red peppers in the small office oven. I suggested that the pumpkin shells be saved for use as serving bowls.
Meanwhile outside on the machair work had started on a new building for the Research and Innovation Office. I guessed that JK would choose the room at the front so that she could enjoy the view west across the sea, and the magnificent Hebridean sunsets.
While I wheeled the abandoned black bicycle along the path, SC expressed her concern that she would not find a hairdresser open in St Andrews on a Sunday. She was wrong. A couple of hours later her silver locks were chopped and gleaming. She looked great.
I left SC and headed for London to for a day’s work with ED. I wasn’t really keeping track of time and missed the last train back to Scotland. I therefore needed somewhere to stay for the night. Since BC and her family were away for the weekend I decided to head for Sussex.
I broke into the house, pottered around a bit (it was much bigger than I imagined), tidied up the toys in the boys’ bedroom, and made the beds. BC would be so delighted to see the room when she returned – or so I thought. It wasn’t until much later that I considered how freaked out I would be to discover that a near stranger had been rifling through the family’s belongings uninvited, even with kind intentions.
When the earthquake struck in the Russian far north TPR was standing directly on the fault line above a seam of white marble. He fell several thousand feet into the enormous crevice. I was sure that I would never see him again.
In the event, TPR survived the fall. We knew this from the 200+ texts that he sent us from below the earth’s surface.
Now it would be a race against time to find and rescue him. He would not survive long underground on his meagre fat reserves.
Our flat was packed with visitors for the weekend of my birthday, many of whom had travelled a long distances to be with me. AW and JS had come all the way from Farnham, Surry – together, on friendly terms.
I admired AW’s slim figure and beautiful gold satin Chinese gown, and chatted with JS about a special scent that alcoholics use to neutralise the smell of drink on their bodies in the daytime.
Meanwhile in the kitchen someone who had been enjoying himself just a little too much threw up next to the tumble dryer. JS took over the job of peeling potatoes from TPR, who then set about cleaning up the vomit.
Then BD rushed into the flat, grabbed me by the waist, kissed me on the lips, and handed over a birthday present. This was also a garment made of Chinese satin, although more of a shift dress than a gown. I could not wait to try it on.
A more pressing priority now, however, was the sitting room rug. I could see that someone had already split some light beer on it, but my main concern was red wine. TPR and I set to to lift it.
Also at the back of my mind was the fear that my father might decide to give a speech at my party later that evening.
My extremely tall, dark, handsome Canadian cousin was living in the UK with his Italian girlfriend and her two children.
One day I had a go at being as tall as my cousin. I discovered all the inconveniences that extra height brings to everyday life.
Dreamaticus 