Ad Hoc Fiction

For One Night Only
‘Shall I squirt hairspray on your tights so that ladder doesn’t spread?’ I say.

‘Why did you tell me that, Becky? I’ll have to change them now – everyone’ll see.’

I roll my eyes. ‘They won’t notice that tiny thing. They’ll be focusing on your hair – it’s massive.’

‘Is it too much? I’m not used to all this.’

I pat the huge beehive, spraying extra hairspray on it for good measure. ‘It’s for charity. You never know – you might get a taste for it.’

‘Everyone’s gonna laugh at me. It’ll be obvious I’m miming.’

‘Everyone mimes here. You’ve been practicing for ages. "I Am What I Am." Shirley Bassey’s got nothing on you.’ 

I wouldn’t "sing" in front of any audience, but I don’t say anything.

‘Right. I’m ready. Let’s get it over with. Wish me luck, love.’

‘Good luck, Dad.’ I say, patting his back. ‘Knock ‘em dead.’