CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Curly ConfusionKit woke in the early hours, still clothed and on top of the bedspread. Her minute’s snooze had lasted six hours. A glance at her digital clock showed she’d woken at the exact moment her alarm usually roused her from a beautiful slumber. “Damn and blast it!” she cursed.
By five o’clock, she’d showered, styled her curls and dressed, taking the time to apply flawless makeup and remove her Plop. She tidied the empty kitchen after Raki’s impromptu cooking spree and scraped noodles off the hob. At six o’clock, she pushed her feet into her third best plimsolls and left the house, starting up her Bug with her fingers crossed. It fired first time, the gentle whisper of its Volkswagen engine behaving in the frigid air. She reached Pam’s house to find lights shin
