A
few mornings ago, I woke up to the sound of low moaning and you could just tell
it wasn’t the good kind.
There was something a little desperate about this
sound – a single note that crept up on you, clicked shut on the groove of your
auditory canal and held on. It vibrated right through the body – again, not in
a good way – and after a while, all I could think of was that creepy girl in
the white dressing gown with the long hair in ‘The Ring’.
Cautiously, I poked my head out of my bedroom and
nearly screamed like a girl when I saw Amanda’s head also sticking out from
around her door.
“What is
that?” she hissed, eyes wild.
“It’s coming from the bathroom!”
Amanda inched cautiously out from behind the door
and padded softly towards the bathroom. She put her ear to the door.
“Saffy?” she whispered.
The bathroom door swung wide open. Saffy screamed.
Amanda screamed. I slammed my door shut and squeezed tightly on my bladder.
“What are you doing standing right outside the
bathroom!” Saffy yelled. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Why are you moaning
like that? Do you realise how creepy it is? What is the matter with you!”
“I’m allowed to moan! I’m getting old! And that’s
what old people do. They moan!”
“What?”
“I just found two white hairs on my head!”
There was a pause and I could literally feel Amanda
gather herself.
“Really? Show me! Oooh, yeah, there they are!”
“Pull them out! Pull them out! They’re freaking me
out! Pull them out, Amanda, right…owww! Oh my God!”
“You told me to pull them out!”
“Well, not at the same time! And you didn’t give me
any warning. God, am I bleeding?”
By the time everyone had calmed down a little over
a cup of hot peppermint tea, I was exhausted and it wasn’t even 8am.
“Why can’t we just have a nice relaxing weekend
without any drama?” I whined.
“What am I going to do?” Saffy sniffed into her
tea. “White hair. It’s the beginning of the end! Bradley is going to leave me
for a younger woman, you just wait and see.”
“Well, look on the bright side,” Amanda said,
helping herself to a croissant. “At least, you’re not getting white hair down there!”
Saffy looked up from her tea and frowned, her mind
reorientating its physiological compass. Then her eyes widened.
“Oh. My. God,” she gasped and disappeared into the
bathroom.
I stared hard at Amanda. She shrugged. “As if you weren’t thinking it too.”
The next day, Saffy came home with a plastic bag
filled with home hair colouring packs. “I couldn’t decide which shade of brown
I want to be, so I got them all. This had better work.”
An hour later, she’d decided on Deep Mahogany (“It sounds
like a dining table!”). Inside the box were a pair of plastic gloves, pre-treatment
serum, colour tube and a milky bottle. Saffy unfolded the instruction sheet,
pursed her lips as she read silently, eyes flicking from one tube to the other.
“That doesn’t look too hard,” she said finally as
she snapped on the gloves and I headed out the door. After all these years, I’m
like a dog before a tsunami hits: I can sense disaster a mile away.
An hour later, Amanda came home to find Saffy
sobbing in the bathroom. It was a shattered mess with tubes and bottles
everywhere, their contents leaking onto every surface. Saffy emerged from a
cloud of ammonia, her long streaky hair dripping dark brown liquid onto the
sides of her face, clothes and floor. She looked like Carrie at her prom. After
she’d killed everyone.
Amanda gasped, her eyes watering from the fumes.
“What have you done?”
Between choking gasps, Saffy said that it had all
started well enough. She opened one tube and mixed it with another, happily
shaking the bottle until she suddenly realised that she’d mixed the wrong
solutions together. She panicked and then tried to add the right tube, but then
the bottle overheated and exploded.
“And so I tried just wing it and stick it all on my
hair, but it was all so liquidy, it ran everywhere and now I can’t get the
stain out of my face and it’s all over my neck and I look like I have third
degree radiation burns and…” Saffy burst into fresh tears.
Right now, we’re at the dermatologist waiting to
see if we can get the colour off Saffy’s face, currently hidden under a big
hat.
“We need to sue!”
Saffy just hissed to Amanda. “Imagine if I’d tried dying down there!”
Clearly, I didn’t run far enough.
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