Page 55 of Sad Girl Hours
Saffron shakes her head so violently that her flaxen curls fly wildly around in the October air. “No, it’s not. You didn’t get to see the day in in the dungeon, not really. You were separated from the others, and from Harpreet—”
I don’t really see the relevance of Harpreet. I’ll see her at uni later in the week.
“—and stuck with me. You’ve not got pumpkins, or any of the other things you wanted to do—”
I decide to cut the spiral off there. “Saff, chill. It’s literally fine. I had an oddly nice time being stuck in the storage room with you – even if my butt isn’t thanking me. I don’t mind that we weren’t in the main room; we reallydidhave an authentic locked-in experience. Honest,” I add, seeing Saffron still fretting. “I always have a nice time with you regardless of our location. And besides, as far as the other stuff goes, there’s still time. It’s a blessed class-free day, and I have no work to do really…”
I’m not thinking about the poems I have to edit/write before my next meeting with Becks.
“I can fill my whole day with Halloween fun. And, should anyone else want to join me, I would swear not to make them talk about anything not relating to pumpkins. It would be pure pumpkin fun, all day.”
Saffron’s quiet for a few seconds, considering this, before she answers determinedly, her chin slightly tilted towards the sky. “Yes. Obviously you were talking generally and not aiming your remarks at anyone in particular, but I would like to join you. I would like to help you have your perfect Halloween.”
I beam at her. “Excellent. For our first stop, how does getting changed out of our costumes and making cinnamon pumpkin pancakes sound?”
“Sounds perfect,” Saffron says without pause.
I wonder whether she’s really that eager, or if she’s still beating herself up for ‘ruining’ my Halloween morning and will agree to anything I say. I’m starting to wish I could open up her head and give her brain a) a poke to tell it to stop being so mean to her, and b) a little kiss and tell it it’s trying its best.
I’d tell Saffron that but I promised to keep things light today. We’re going to have a fun day and we’re going to get back on track with the bucket list.
“Hey, guys!” I yell to the others. They stop and tuck themselves into a corner to let other people pass. “We’re going to go to mine and Jenna’s to make pumpkin pancakes and then do some other pumpkin-related activities in prep for tonight. You in?”
Vivvie shakes her head. “Lo siento. My day’s plans involve getting off all of this –” she gestures down at her still grey body – “and sleeping. And then some more sleeping. Mrs Danvers here kept us up most of the night with her fretting.”
“And screeching like a goddamn banshee whenever the lights were turned off,” Jenna adds.
“I was just trying to add to the spooky vibes.” Casp looks wounded.
“So, I think we’ll rain-check on the pancakes,” Jenna says. “Catch up on our beauty sleep. God knows some of us need it.”
“Speak for yourself,” Vivvie says, takingherturn to look wounded. “I’m always fabulous, even on three hours’ sleep.”
Jenna just laughs. “We’ll see you tonight, though?”
“Definitely,” Saffron says. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
We part ways from the others who are all heading back to the other house to rest (including Jenna…) and I lead Saffron back to mine.
As usual, Bailey is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a new dirty pan in the sink. I swear the girl’s a raccoon, just sneaking around at night.
“So, are pumpkin pancakes a Halloween staple in the Holloway household?” Saffron asks, dodging out of the way as I get ingredients out of my baking cupboard.
“Are they!” I answer enthusiastically. “Every Halloween morning, baby. Usually in the shape of pumpkins or bats, but Idon’t have the moulds with me here, so we’ll have to settle for boring old round ones.”
“Ugh,” Saffron says. “How could you dangle such things in front of me and then make me settle for boring old round ones? It’s frankly an insult to Halloween.”
“I’ll make it up to you. And to Halloween,” I say, starting to weigh my ingredients out. “I’ve got a few ideas for today.”
“Which are?”
“Pancakes first,” I say. “The ideas are still percolating.”
“Oh well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt such an important process as ‘percolation’.”
“Very wise.”
It does feel a bit like things are mostly back to normal this morning. We’ve struck our usual balance of me saying unhinged things and Saffron entertaining me saying those things. She films the pancake process – including my failed attempt at a freehand bat-shaped one that she claims she loves more than if he’d come out looking like a perfect pipistrelle – and we laugh and joke around like we used to.
