Dedicated to and written for the amusement of Jane
EPISODE ONE - IN WHICH SCARLET DISCOVERS HER TRUE HAIR COLOUR
Dear Diary,
strange things have been happening. Last night I dreamt about Barbie, and woke up disgusted at the neon pinkness of it all. Imagine my horror when, while washing my hair in the shower, the water began running exactly the same pink! Nothing can account for it, not even all the raspberry jelly I'd eaten at Felicity's 'Low Calorie Indulgence Party' the day before. Or the large slice of strawberry gateau I rewarded myself with when I got back. I think perhaps I should call the plumber. I mean, people don't leak food colouring, do they?!
*****
Dear Diary,
today the cat has really been getting under my feet. I know we called him Sir Marmaduke the Third, but really, there is a limit to the imperiousness I will put up with, even from a cat. I decided some hands-on contact was the only cure and grabbed the little furball to give him a bath. No one told me cats don't like water. I ended up soaked head to toe; there was so much water dripping off my face that I couldn't see properly to rescue the poor thing! Still, four kitty treats later and he seems to have recovered, though I swear he's a pinker shade of white than he used to be...
*****
Dear Diary,
fashion disaster! Today was lunching with the girls (Valerie is finally back from her Paris photo exhibition and we managed to drag Miranda away from that Spaniard she's been shacked up with), so of course I wore my signature red dress for maximum 'Scarlet' impact. And what do you think Miranda had the temerity to call me? Dame Edna! Well of course I was furious, but the girls dragged me off to the ladies', and there I was confronted with the candyfloss I call my hair - WHAT a clash. How can I not have noticed? And what does it mean?! My hair has always been red until now, I simply don't understand. I will hide in my house until I can mend it.
*****
Dear Diary,
so it turns out that Daddy has been hiring Borrowers to dye my hair while I sleep since my childhood. He'd been so set on calling me Scarlet that when I turned out a Different Colour he just took matters into his own hands. What a sensible man! Although I do wish he'd thought to mention it before I moved away. Now I'm going to have to find my own, and they're notoriously hard to come by - always hiding in teapots on rivers and that sort of thing.
To be honest, the shock of discovering that my red hair isn't really red, was nowhere near as bad as finding out my true hair colour. No one, and I mean no one, must know that I am actually - wait for it - blonde. The shame! Can you imagine how I would have turned out if it weren't for Daddy's intervention? A blonde Scarlet should just never happen. It would be like calling someone with freckles Diana.
I think I will buy Daddy that Louis Vuitton bag after all. I can probably get it online while I wait for Waitrose to deliver my hair dye.
*****
Stay posted for the upcoming Episode Two: In Which Scarlet Attempts to be Alternative.
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