Two hours later, the lecture is in full swing. I’m looking down at a sea of faces watching my every move, and trying not to let their stares unnerve me.

In the beginning, I was all dry-mouthed and nervous. But now I’m getting into my stride and the nervousness is slowly evaporating. We’ve covered burns, choking and bleeding so far, and now I’m telling them what to do in the case of poisoning.

‘Never try to induce vomiting,’ I say glancing down at my notes. ‘If you’re not sure whether the substance that has been swallowed is poisonous or not, phone the Poison Information Centre. You’ll find the number listed in your info packs. You’ll also find a list of commonly occurring plants and trees that are poisonous to humans. Most of them you probably know already – like oleanders and foxgloves. But some might surprise you.’

I glance out the open door into the playground. Steph and Kealiboga seem to have matters well under control. There’s been no screaming or fighting, and no kids dashing inside to sit with their parents. I flinch slightly as I see a toddler running towards a moving swing, but Kealiboga is right there to steer him gently away.

‘If a poisonous substance has been swallowed, seek medical help immediately,’ I say, turning back to my audience. ‘This is not something that can be dealt with at home. And when you go to the emergency room, always remember to take something along with you that will help to identify the poisonous substance. Even if you think you know what it is, take along the bottle or the packaging, or a cutting from the plant.’

A hand goes up in the audience.

‘What if we’re on holiday in the bush and there are no hospitals nearby?’ asks a pregnant woman in dungarees.

‘In that case, you should phone the Poison Information Centre and they will talk you through an emergency procedure.’

There’s a disturbance in the audience as a baby that’s been niggling for a while suddenly starts to scream really loudly. The mom looks totally stressed out. She tries giving the baby to her husband to hold, but by this time the poor little guy is arching his back and yelling blue murder. The husband takes the baby awkwardly and starts jiggling him up and down, which just seems to make him scream louder.

I’ve had my eye on this kid for a while now, willing him to turn up the noise level. And now he has. This is the breakthrough I’ve been waiting for. This is where I get to demonstrate my magic powers.

The mom takes the baby back from her husband with an impatient click of her tongue. ‘Excuse me,’ she says, and starts shuffling towards the exit.

‘No, don’t go,’ I say soothingly. ‘You’ll miss lots of important stuff if you go outside now. Let me see if I can do anything with him.’

She looks at me doubtfully for a moment. By this stage he is screaming so loudly we can hardly hear ourselves think. In desperation, she walks to the front of the hall and hands him to me.

I lift him gently out of her arms and hold him against my body. He’s about four months old.

‘He’s not hungry, is he?’ I ask. Because not even I can do much with a hungry baby.

‘I’ve just fed him!’ she says, sounding completely harassed.

‘Good.’

I walk back to my place. He is still screaming and I can feel every eye in the room on me. The audience almost seems to be holding its breath. I lift him upright and clasp him firmly against me, moulding his little body to my chest. Then I make eye contact and give him a big smile.

There’s a two-second pause while he seems to be taking a breath for yet another yell. And then suddenly he is quiet. He flails his hands around clumsily and starts making little cooing noises.

YES!

I feel like punching the air. The baby whisperer strikes again!

‘That’s incredible,’ says the mom, looking at me in total awe. ‘He’s never done that for anyone before.’ She and her husband are staring at me as though I’m Father Christmas and the Easter Bunny all rolled into one.

‘You won’t be able to carry on with your lecture while you’re holding him,’ the dad says, stretching out his hands. ‘I’ll take him back now, if you like.’

‘No that’s all right,’ I say airily. ‘I’ll keep him for a while to give you a break. I’m good at multitasking. And besides, he looks pretty happy now, don’t you think?’

We all look at the baby who has started fiddling with my hair. I braided a couple of dreadlocks into the sides of my head this morning, with beads on the tips. And now he has managed to grab hold of one of them. I wince as he gives it a powerful tug, and we all laugh.

I support him easily with one arm while I carry on with my talk. He even comes in handy a few times. I use him to demonstrate the Heimlich Manoeuvre and wound treatment. ‘It’s good to remember that an injured or choking child won’t be sitting as still as a demonstration dummy,’ I point out as the baby wriggles and squirms. ‘But as long as you handle the patient firmly and confidently, any adult should be able to treat any child.’

Over the next hour I soothe two more babies that start to cry, and also break up a toddler fight between a brother and a sister who both want the same toy. By the end of the lecture, the audience pretty much thinks I can walk on water. And when I announce my surprise just before we break up for refreshments, they are all beaming.
‘We have a special, one-day-only giveaway for you today,’ I announce gleefully. ‘Each family will receive one of our fully equipped first-aid kits at no cost. These normally retail at R55. Please remember to keep them out of the reach of children and to replace any item that gets used up.’

I planned this from the very beginning, of course. In fact, I built the price of the first-aid kits into the entrance fee. But people always like to think they’re getting something for nothing, which is why I’m making it sound like a free gift.

As soon as the lecture ends, the kids and the adults descend on the food table like a flock of locusts. There’s barely enough left over for Steph, Kealiboga and me to scrape together a small lunch for ourselves at the end. All of the first aid boxes have disappeared and the urn is empty. On the plus side though, at least thirty of my business cards have been taken too.

When we finish eating, we start the long and tedious process of throwing stuff away, washing up, and sweeping the hall. It’s past two o’clock by the time we eventually finish.

‘Well, that’s it,’ I say, looking critically around the tidy hall. ‘Now all I can do is wait and see if any baby-sitting comes out of this. Or if I’ve just chucked a whole lot of money straight down the drain.’

‘I’m sure you’ll get lots of calls,’ Kealiboga says with a huge yawn. ‘You really impressed them.’

‘I couldn’t have done it without you guys.’ I say, giving each of them a hug. ‘You’ve been total stars. I’ll transfer the money into your bank accounts today.’

‘You really don’t need to do that,’ Kealiboga says, and Steph nods vigorously in agreement.

‘I want to do it,’ I add quickly. ‘We made this deal ages ago, remember? Now let’s not talk about it any more.’

Kealiboga is spending the afternoon with her boyfriend so she hurries off to Kaif to meet him. Steph and I lock up and start the steep trek back up the hill to res We are each carrying a demo dummy under one arm and carrier bags full of stuff.

As we cross Prince Alfred Street, a car whizzes by so close to us that we’re forced to jump into the gutter. I catch a glimpse of something silver and expensive just before it disappears around the corner.

‘Who the bloody hell was that?’ gasps Steph.

‘Sophie Agincourt,’ I say bitterly, rubbing my ankle where I bashed it against the pavement. ‘She would probably have run me over if you hadn’t been here as well.’

‘She really doesn’t like you, does she? I caught her staring at you at breakfast the other day. I swear to God, my blood ran cold. She looked positively murderous.’

I shrug. ‘That’s Sophie for you.’

‘It’s hard to believe she still hasn’t forgiven you for beating her to the Miss Sandton title. You’d think she would have got over it by now.’

‘Well …’

I pause, wondering whether to tell Steph the truth. Then I decide to take the plunge. This is something I need to get off my chest.

‘To be perfectly honest, it’s not just the Miss Sandton thing. I’ve done some pretty mean stuff to her too over the years. Usually not quite as mean as she’s done to me, but still … it just kind of escalated out of control, you know? And I must admit – the last thing I did to her was pretty bad.’

‘Which was what?’ Steph asks, wide-eyed.

‘I poured sugar into her petrol tank.’

Steph stops stock-still on the pavement. ‘You did what?’

‘The petrol tank of her Porsche,’ I add, making a clean breast of it.

‘But Trinity, that’s vandalism!’ Steph squeaks. ‘It must have cost a fortune to fix.’

‘Sixteen thousand rand,’ I say, pulling at her hand to make her keep walking. ‘I know because I’m paying her dad back. Secretly.’

‘How can you pay someone back secretly?’

‘Secretly from Sophie, I mean. Obviously not secretly from her father.’

I shiver slightly as I remember that awful, nerve-racking night when I phoned up Sophie’s dad and admitted everything. He was pretty decent about it actually, but it still makes me feel all squirmy inside every time I think of it. But when Sophie turned up in Grahamstown last month, I knew I had no choice. It had been eating away at me for months – ever since I did it, actually. The exhilaration changed to guilt straight away. And the guilt morphed into an awful, huge, oppressive mega-guilt. I feel better about it now, but I’ll only really be able to forget it when the sixteen grand has been paid off.

‘I can’t understand why you don’t want Sophie to know that you’re paying for the damage,’ says Steph. ‘I really think you should tell her.’

‘Never!’ I almost shout. ‘She would gloat for years if she knew. She’d think I was feeling bad about it.’

‘You are feeling bad about it.’

‘I know. But Sophie doesn’t need to know that. And anyway, it wouldn’t make any difference. The deed is done. She wouldn’t stop planning her revenge just because she knew I was paying her father back.’

We’re back at res at last. The afternoon has turned nice and sunny, so we flop down on the lawn in front of Somerset House and roll up our jeans, trying to catch the last rays before autumn sets in for real.

‘So I guess that notice about the red thong panties in College House was Sophie’s revenge for the petrol tank?’ Steph asks, lying back with her head in her hands.

‘Oh, please!’ I snort. The idea is so ludicrous I almost want to laugh. ‘That was just a little baby fire-cracker. That was just to remind me she’s alive. When she brings out the big guns, I’ll know all about it.’

‘So what do you think she’ll do?’

‘Who knows?’ I shrug. ‘All I know is that it won’t be pretty. Sophie doesn’t take prisoners.’

‘But aren’t you worried? What if it’s something really awful?’

‘Sophie and I have been at each other’s throats for years. If I spent all my time worrying about what she might be getting up to next, I’d be a nervous wreck by now.’

Tell us: Do you think Trinity will get more business?