Tangerine Masterminds

I'm off, says Mrs Thomas-Hume. Got to dry my hair for the party. Terence, I'll see you tomorrow.

I'm off too, says Mr Thomas Hume. You did well, Terence. See you tomorrow.

What about tonight? asks Terence. The beach party.

It's not for children, says Mr Thomas-Hume firmly. It's our Gala Dinner and awards night.

Plop, says Terence.

Kobo is thinking the same.

Gaius is not best pleased either.

Who will mind Terence when he and Griff slip away?

I don't suppose... begins Gaius, looking at Ageless.

Keep on not supposing, says Ageless.

Terence can stay with me, says Kobo. We'll hang out on the beach near the party, and watch the proceedings.

Yay! says Terence. I'm going to the party.

Ageless backtracks a little.

He might rock up to the edge of the party, if Kobo is going.

........

In her snake hole on Gun Hill, the Barbados racer is getting ready for the party.

She doesn't have to do much.

She says goodbye to her babies.

Be good, mummy's going out for a while. The lion will guard you.

She emerges from the snake hole. It is late afternoon.

Going somewhere? growls not-Henry Wilkinson.

A beach party, says the Barbados racer. Keep an eye on my babies.

Babies, what babies? says not-Henry Wilkinson. And the answer is no.

That doesn't make sense, says the Barbados racer. Is this about chocolate?

Yes it is about chocolate, says not-Henry Wilkinson. You should have thought, before you masterminded that jape.

The ball looks better, dark brown, observes the Barbados racer. More subtle.

I liked it red, says the lion. It represented the Empire.

It was faded and tawdry, says the Barbados racer. Tell you what, if I promised to bring back some paint, would you mind my babies?

What colour? asks not-Henry Wilkinson.

They're creamy white, says the Barbados racer. They are still in their eggs.

What colour paint? says the lion.

Is she stupid?

Red, says the Barbados racer.

No, she is not stupid.

Okay, says not-Henry Wilkinson.

Ha! He is thick.

Meeting a boyfriend? asks not-Henry Wilkinson.

At least he's observant.

Maybe, says the Barbados racer.

Good luck, Barbados racer, says not-Henry Wilkinson.

Call me Tangerine, says the Barbados racer.

She sets off down the hill, thinking of handsome Mastigo, who gave her that name......