Tuesday & Max

10

I WAS A LITTLE GIRL

ALONE IN MY LITTLE WORLD

WHO DREAMED OF A LITTLE HOME

FOR ME

The air is thick with the scent of a microwaveable curry when someone knocks on the front door. Tuesday kicks off the pink blanket that covers her legs and slipper-booted feet and stands. She considers, just for a moment, not answering; then convinces herself to be brave and slips out into the messy hallway, illuminated by its harsh yellow energy-saving lightbulb.

When she opens the door, she half expects to see a chilly Julia, keyless and still sulky from the argument at dinner the other night, perhaps with a phone that had died during her night class so she couldn't ring Tuesday first.

Instead, it's Candice.

"Oh! Hi!" Tuesday says slightly breathlessly, as though she'd been running before opening the door instead of sitting half-watching cooking shows on TV and scrolling through her phone.

Candice smiles a little uncomfortably. Her long sandy hair is messy from the wind and she still has a slightly green hairline from her witch costume. "Hi. I hope it's okay I came round?" She wrings her hands a little. Is she thinking of her last visit? Tuesday internally cringes. "I only saw your message about the costumes after dinner and I just got so happy that you offered to help. And I thought I remembered where you lived, so."

"No! It's fine!" Her own voice is high, sort of whiny, too try-hard happy.

"Okay." Candice smiles.

They both sort of stand there for a beat and then Tuesday moves backwards, pulling the door open wider. "Right! Yeah. Come in."

She leads Candice into the living room, slightly more at ease because Julia isn't here so she won't have to hide away in her bedroom or face Julia's overwhelmingly, enthusiastically welcoming demeanour.

"Are you guys having your tea?" Candice asks, face dropping in dismay. The microwave stops buzzing and bings loudly. "I can come back - or we can just message each other-"

"No, it's fine," Tuesday tells her. She plucks a chipped polka-dot bowl from an overhead cupboard and empties her steaming tikka curry into it, fingers tingling from the heat. "It's just me. My aunt's doing her accounting course." The food is way too hot so she steps away from it, gesturing at Candice and moving toward the hallway again. "Do you want to see the dress?"

Candice's face lights up. "Yes please!"

Tuesday leads her to her bedroom, trying not to think too hard about what she must think of it. She needn't have worried, because the moment Candice spots the mannequin, it's as if she has eyes only for the dress.

"Oh my gosh!"

She hurries to it, hands light on the fabric, turning the figure this way and that. Tuesday turns the overhead light on so that she can properly see.

"Tuesday," Candice gasps. "This is perfect. It looks - it's almost exactly like Maria's gazebo dress from the film, apart from the neckline! But honestly, who cares about that, yours is better - with a waist panel, maybe, it could be - it's perfect!"

"Really?" Anxiety twists her stomach and it's almost too much; someone new here, in this room, in this flat, looking at the dress she made. But it's a good kind of too much. Her heart soars as Candice's words sink in, as it becomes clear that she really means what she's saying.