I actually want to vomit I’m in so much pain. And there’s Simon staring slack jawed at Deevya in her Wonderbra and sequined leopard skin leggings, while the remains of her torn top dangle from the catch in the window.
Nomusa stands on her tiptoes, grabs the pieces of ripped fabric and hands them to Deevya, who slips them on, twisting the frayed pieces around her bra straps until it looks pretty decent. In fact it looks fantastic. While she’s quietly closing the window I’m wondering if Deevya has a future in fashion rather than animation.
“Lets get out of here fast!” she says.
“No can do,” I gasp in pain. “My ankle …”
And we all peer down at what now looks remarkably similar to an elephant’s foot jammed into my highheel.
“Oh my goodness,” says Nomusa. “We need to get that shoe off!”
She bends down to undo the strap.
And then my phone rings, and it’s my mother of course.
“Answer as if everything’s totally normal,” Deevya instructs.
Ok, in fact if Deevya doesn’t go into animation or fashion after school she may well have a future as a con artist.
“Hi darling. Are you having fun?”
“Yes mom! I’m having an amazing time!” I exclaim as Nomusa shoots me an apologetic look as she resorts to cutting through the strap of my high heel with the penknife on Simon’s key ring. What I used to think of as my ankle continues to mutate into a large balloon.
“Darling, I’m afraid I’m going to have to come and fetch you early. I know its New Year’s and I said you could stay out until after midnight, but I feel like I might be getting a migraine. I’m sorry but I’m going to have to come and pick you up in the next ten minutes so that I can drive us safely home, take my medicine and get into bed. Will you wait by the front door?”
“Sure mom,” I hear my voice saying before my brain can catch up with it. “I’ll see you in ten minutes.”