23
Golden Tickets
‘Bonnie! Are you sure you’re safe up there?’
Bonnie, hanging on with one hand to a branch as she reached out with the other to grab a cacao pod hanging out over the floor some five metres below, glanced down at Debbie, bizarrely wearing a reindeer-design jumper under her trench-coat. A strand of red and white streamer wound its way through her otherwise black braids: it was as far as she would go by way of concession.
‘I’m fine,’ Bonnie said, even as one foot slipped from the crux of the tree and briefly scrabbled in open air. ‘Never felt better. I’ll just get this last one—’
She stretched, her fingers closing over the pod. With a twist it came loose.
‘Got it.’
‘Now get down.’
‘I’m coming.’
A couple of minutes later, Bonnie stood beside Debbie on the floor below
