“You could wear that skinsuit from Saturday,” Mand suggested as I snuggled down next to Mum on the sofa.
“I told you, it didn't survive the shoot,” I replied, looking daggers at her.
“What's this?” Mater enquired.
“Party at the Preiser's Saturday,” Mand supplied, “Gab hasn't got a costume yet.”
“Amongst that lot upstairs? You must have something kiddo.”
“I guess.”
“There's no guessing about it,” Dad put in, “you must have hundreds of dresses up there.”
“Mu-um, tell him,” I whined.
“Well you do have more than me,” she pointed out ruffling my hair.
“But I need a costume for hallowe'en, not a party dress.”
“You must have something,” Mum noted, “what are you going as to this do Manda?”
“Zombie nurse.”
“There you go kiddo, I'm sure you'd make a good zombie,” Dad opined.
“Da-ad!” I complained.
“Talking of costumes, have you got your dress for the concert finished?”
“Yes Mum, I just need to get some hose.”
“You've got a draw full,” Mand suggested.
“I've seen some with a pattern that'll set the dress off and make me look less like a dwarf.”
“How are they gonna do that?” Mand demanded behind a grin.
“Huh! you'll see.”
 
I lay in bed contemplating my options for the weekend. Hallowe'en at the Preiser's has always been something special, everyone makes a big effort with the costumes, remember last year, I did that Day of the Dead thing with the sequins? Maybe I peaked too soon, after that most stuff will seem pretty lame and i've not left myself much time to sort anything.

What have I got in the cupboard? I mentally went through the 'fancy dress' costumes, when I thought about it there aren't actually that many, not full outfits. I know the ones from England are in there somewhere, but whilst I might have not grown up, I have grown in other directions so they're out. I might be able to reprise my Harry Potter outfit, or not, I don't have any of that uniform type stuff now.

Go uber Goth maybe? Bit predictable, pretty much everyone knows about Strawberry now, hmm, there must be something. Something yes, but nothing that came to mind right now, I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.
 
“So, Saturday,” I opened, “what are you going as?”
“Ah, that'd be telling,” von Strechau replied.
“You don't know,” I accused.
“Not true, it'll be a surprise.”
“Hmmph!”
“What about you?”
“I'll think of something,” I sighed.
“You do a good elf.”
“For hallowe'en?”
“Zombie elf?”
I playfully slapped him upside his head, “you can be so daft.”
“But loveable,” he countered.
“I was thinking infuriating actually.”
“So we meeting later?” Max enquired.
“I've got some shopping to do.”
“After?”
I shrugged, “i guess, I'll send you an SMS lunchtime.”
“'Kay, later.”

I got a less than romantic peck on the cheek and he was off to catch up with the departing figure of Freddy.
 
To be honest, I was somewhat preoccupied as I sat through my lectures, oh I was following things, making notes but my mind kept wandering to Saturday's gathering and my lack of costume. At this rate I really will be going sans costume, everything I came up with was either too elaborate, lame or, well, unsuitable on some level. Indeed I was no nearer when I left college to go meet Max after lunch.

I made a beeline for the Karstadt, one thing I am certain of, I want those tights for the concert. Back in England, not that as Drew i used to make a habit of looking but essentially most hosiery departments stock plain hose, shades of black and skintone in various denier and thats it, full stop. Here in Germany, there'll be different brands, colours, patterns, there'll be more leg wear than you can imagine!

I saw these particular tights last week when I was coming through but it still took me five minutes to find them on the shelf, having been shunted about to make way for a display of 'seasonal' ie hallowe'en leg coverings. Then I had a lightbulb moment, i've been over thinking this costume thing, I grabbed a second packet of hose then set about gathering some other supplies. It didn't take long, the store had plenty of stuff for next week, I even scored a cheap costume, okay its a kids size 160cm, but I reckon for fifteen euros its worth a pop.
 
“Buying the place up?” Max suggested when he eventually turned up in the Dinea.
“Just a few odds and ends,” I offered, “we eating?”
“Sure, what do you want, I'll fetch it.”

Phew, my purse is running a bit light after my spree downstairs.

“Erm, the Rindrouladen if they have it, otherwise do me a plate from the buffet?”
“'kay, drink?”
“Sprite please.”
“I'll let you get some cutlery, won't be long.”

Well I suppose I can't complain, I'm getting lunch bought for me after all.
 
The set meals are always good value, the buffet you pay by weight which can work out expensive if you aren't careful. Anyhow, a few minutes later Max appeared pushing one of those multi tray trolley things – ooh, he's got cake too and a bowl of salad. I helped him unload everything then disposed of the trolley.

“What's the occasion then?”
“Does there need to be one?”
“Suppose not,” I conceded.
“You fed me all summer so I'm just returning the thought.”
“I wasn't running a tab,” I pointed out, “i'd probably have had something myself if you hadn't been there.”
“Well it still felt like I was spongeing, I got you Spätzle, the potato looked a bit past it.”
“I like Spätzle,” I opined digging into the salad bowl, hey, I can do green stuff if I like.

Conversation dropped off for a few minutes as we made short work of the hot food, true to form Max had Jäger Schnitzel with chips.

“So you sorted your costume then?” Max asked before shovelling more fried potato into his maw.
“Pretty much.”
“So what're you going as?”
“That'd be telling, what are you going as?”
“Told you last night, its a surprise.”
“I guess there'll be a few surprises on Saturday then,” I allowed with a smirk.
 
After dinner I sidled into the kitchen where Mum had the ironing board out and a pile of Mum and Dad laundry.

“Mummy?”
“What are you after?”
“Who said I was after anything?”
“You did, you never call me Mummy unless you're after something, so what is it?”

Bum, I'll have to come up with a new ploy.

“So you know Saturday?”
“Ye-es,” she replied cautiously as she pushed the iron over Dad's shirt.
“Well i've sort of got a costume but it needs altering?”
She sighed, “go on, I'm listening.”
“Well it needs letting out a bit?”
“Letting out?”
“Well its a kids costume, it fits most places but there's nowhere for these,” I indicated my chest.
“Sounds like more than a bit of letting out.”
I slumped a bit, “could you have a look, please?”
She shook her head, “go on then, I'll come up when i've finished these, I'm not promising anything mind.”
“Thanks Mum,” I gave her a quick hug before scampering up to my eyrie.
 
It was close on fifteen minutes before Mum arrived in my attic armed with her tape measure. I was already down to my bra and pants so I squirmed as best I could into the costume. Okay I can get into it but its like a sausage skin, my boobs are squashed almost flat – not exactly sightly or comfortable.

“Didn't they have the next size?”
“Only if I wanted to be a pink princess.”
“It would've saved time,” she sighed.
“But it'd hardly be suitable for hallowe'en would it?”
“I don't know, you could start a new trend.”
“Mu-um, I'm nearly seventeen, I don't do Disney Princess.”
“Well not since you were small anyhow, I don't know what I'm doing here anyway, you should be doing it yourself.”
“I can't i've no idea what to do,” I reminded her.
“Maybe you should learn.”
“But you're so good at it.”
“Come on then, lets see what we can do.”
 
“Hmm, how's that?” Mum asked tugging at the top of the costume.
“Its a bit tight across the top.”
“I've let it out as much as I can, they're not exactly generous with the material.”
“You'd think you'd get more for fifteen euros,” I giggled.
Mum just rolled her eyes, “so is that it, you don't want me to make a ball gown out of a minidress?”
“Well...”

She gave me the look, you know the one, all parents use it, the 'don't push your luck' look.

“Thanks Mum, you're a lifesaver.”
“Don't know about that, so how are you getting up to Staffel?”
“Well....”
“I'll ask your Dad, you might want to run the iron over that before Saturday.”

Bum, use another domestic skill I suck at, I usually trade the ironing with Mand in exchange for doing her cooking rota, maybe I should take a crash course sometime? I can't do that this time without letting the cat out of the bag of course so it looks like I'll be playing with hot things tomorrow.

“Yes Mum.”
“You making the cocoa?” she suggested as she started down the stairs.
“Once i've hung this up.”
“And put some clothes on I hope.”

Well duh! Okay there was that one time and I did have underwear on.

“Yes Mum, clothes.”
 
© Maddy Bell 19.1.2018