The final result. The big one. What you’ve all been waiting for. The culmination of three hours’ hard work and gruelling manual labour…

I finally tie off the end of my sister’s last plait. Sweet, sweet success. 

Cicilie squirms impatiently as I tidy up the final wayward curls of ginger frizz escaping from the scarlet ribbon, eager to be off after sitting still for hours while I worked over her hair. 

I can’t really blame her, to be honest. It’s taken me most of the morning, although the finished product is magnificent, if I do say so myself (which I do. Three hours.)

Now that I’ve finished with Cicilie’s plaits, I’m at a loss for what to do with myself; my best friend, Jonathan, has gone into one of the larger towns - whose name I immediately forgot - to visit family, school in our town is on a break for the summer, and the baking heat isn’t letting anyone do much other than languish inside and pray for the heat to break. This kind of weather always puts the whole area to a complete standstill as, given we’re in Kent, this heat is rare and no one knows quite how to deal with it.

Stretching out lazily on my bed, I listen to the commotion downstairs as Cicilie and her friends get ready for their trip; I can’t help but admire their determination to get out and about in this weather. Cicilie’s all I’ve got, and I want to make sure she has fun.

Goodness knows I don’t have any.