CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Crash CurlsKit washed her hair and gathered her clean curls into the green scarf she used as a Plop. She tidied the house and sifted through the contents of her hairdressing bag. The Plop came off after ten minutes and damp curls dangled next to her cheek. She relaxed, using the time to clean her scissors and comb ready for her evening appointment with the lady from the vehicle testing centre.
Raki returned home early, eager for her to fix the mess he’d made of his hair. Kit used the techniques she’d learned on her hairdressing course to cut his hair as short as possible. The gouges over his fringe area proved harder to disguise. “I can’t do anything about this,” she soothed, resting her hands on Raki’s shoulders. “Your hair grows fast, so it’ll mask the bald patches in
