“I don’t believe it!” Mummy was gob-smacked. “No wonder the changes. My little girl is growing up. And you made scones for us to enjoy when we got back. I know… we’ll have your scones now and we’ll microwave the burgers and chips later.”

Zola got ready to shout his displeasure but Peggy got in first with a pinch on the thigh and his shout turned to a shriek of pain. He looked daggers at her and she pointed a warning finger at him. “Shoesh!” she hissed threateningly.

Daddy clapped his hands for attention. “I know… Zanele’s off to a party this afternoon. Why don’t we have a picnic with the takeaways in the back garden later on? How’s that, Zanele? Will you mind if we had the burgers without you?”

“That’s okay. If I have a burger now, I won’t have space for the party goodies.”

She and Maggie then brought out the scones, butter, cheese, sliced tomatoes, Marmite, jam, fish paste and pickled gherkins. Zanele went to the kitchen and boiled the kettle herself. Mummy tried her best to keep from uttering a warning. “Steam burns…” Daddy whispered, “Steam burns don’t kill. Scars are trophies.” Mummy’s expression said, you are cruel!

Maggie brought in the teapot. “This is too heavy for Zanelli to carry,” she said. Mummy breathed a sigh of relief.

Everyone enjoyed the unexpected tea party. Zola wolfed down the last scone and with his mouth full and said, “I don’ b’lieve Nanny. Zanele din’ make these.”

“You saw the pics,” said Peter, elbowing him painfully.

“Ouch! Anyone can make pictures,” rebutted Zola.

“Are you saying Maggie is a liar and that she fixes pictures?” Daddy asked quite sternly.

Zola hung his head and shook it.

“I don’t blame Zola. These taste like the scones of an experienced cook,” Mummy said. “The last time I made scones they didn’t rise and they were like rocks!”

“Go Zanele. So, she decided she wanted to learn to cook.”

“And Aunt Maggie made her start at the very beginning.”

“And she’s just eight! I can’t even make tea.”

Daddy put on his sternest face. “You lot have been thoroughly spoilt. Peggy and Peter, clean up! Zola, clean this table and the floor after the table’s been cleared. Mummy will inspect when you’ve finished.”

“What’s Aun’y Mags ginne do?” Zola sulked.

“She’s gonna relax and catch her breath because she’s gonna have her nerves wrecked teaching you lot a thing or two in the kitchen.”

Then Peggy noticed the plaster on Zanele’s elbow. The story was told and the paper-mache remembered. Mummy had bought the starch.

Zanele left to get ready for the party, smiling broadly. It had been a wonderful day. Going to a party would make it even better.

Maggie took out her googled notes and went to work on Zanele’s project. “Lemme help,” Zola begged, “Zanele gotta go to a party an’ I c’n also make that stuff.”

When they were alone together Zola whispered very close to Maggie’s ear, with his hands cupped around his mouth, “Will you teach me to cook an’ bake, too?”

When Zanele got back from the party she was bubbling over, full of news about the party – the exciting games, Katy’s wonderful presents, and thee bestest ever birthday cake Katy’s mother had made all by herself.

They had a swimming competition and Zanele had been sad because she couldn’t swim. They had a jumping castle, which Katy’s two smaller brothers made uncomfortable for them because they jumped too fast and made the girls wobble and fall and scream.

Peggy wanted to know about the party dresses. Zanele said she only saw lots of frills and bows and some of the girls had water curls and lipstick and pink cheeks. She shuddered as she spoke. She wore her pink pantsuit and her going out watch. Her pink ankle strap sandals finished off her look. She wore dresses to church only. “When I’m big, I’m ginne wear pants only,” she had whispered in Maggie’s ear one day.

“Why? You look so nice in dresses,” Maggie had asked.

“I like pants. I can sit anyhow.”

Maggie had looked away, grinning at the picture she saw in her mind.

Zola and Maggie completed the paper-mache job and it was in the pantry where it would remain until it was time to be creative.

Zanele was let into Zola’s secret. They were in Maggie’s room. She was getting ready to go off for the weekend.

“Will he start at the bottom of the ladder, too?”

“Of course, where else? Can you jump to the top of a ladder? Then you don’t need a ladder.”

“Whatch’all talking about?” asked Zola.

“You’ll see soon enough when you report for duty.” Maggie secretly winked at Zanele.

Maggie was almost ready to leave. “You can be Zanele’s rookie the rest of the day and tomorrow.”

“Ooh, yes-s-s!” Zanele clapped her hands.

“Wha-a-at?” cried Zola, “Zanele’s rookie?”

Maggie said nothing. She closed her overnight bag smartly and pointed to the door.

“Get outta my room,” she snapped cheerfully.

I wonder if they’ll still be friends when I get back on Monday morning? she asked herself. Must be prepared for… what does Peter call it again… ah… control damage… or is it damage control.

***

Tell us: Do you think that you have the ability to inspire someone to make a change, just like Zanele inspired Zola?