Finally Tyler lifted his head. 'I might have an idea,' he said slowly. 'I don't know if it's stupid or not. It involves Shimlara.'
'Go on,' said Nicola.
Tyler's eyes were fixed on Shimlara. 'Well, if Shimlara's hair was straight, wouldn't that make her a hairity?'
Everyone looked at Shimlara's long, dark brown, curly hair.
'So what?' said Sean. 'If my hair was long, I'd be a hairity too.'
'Well, what if we made Shimlara's hair straight?'
'How would we do that?'
Tyler didn't answer. He took off his glasses and polished them with the edge of his jumper. He put them back on and raised his eyebrows at them.
Everyone stared at him. Nicola wondered if he'd just lost his mind.
And then suddenly they all got it.
'YOUR MUM'S STRAIGHTENING IRON!' everyone yelled at once.
26
'I don't know if it's working,' whispered Shimlara to Nicola. 'Nobody is taking any notice of me.'
The Space Brigade was walking down the main street of the village near the Why Not Drop Inn on their way to the hot-air balloon booking office. Shimlara's hair was now dead straight. It was about a foot longer than when it was curly and a curtain of glossy dark brown hair fell down past her waist.
'Just wait,' said Nicola.
At that moment a little girl walking nearby tugged at her mother's arm and pointed at Shimlara.
'Here we go,' said Nicola. 'Get ready to be famous.'
The mother and the daughter came shyly over to Shimlara, their faces flushed with excitement.
'Excuse me,' stammered the little girl to Shimlara. 'Could I have your signograph? I think you're the most beautiful hairity I've ever seen.'
'Of course,' said Shimlara grandly. She flicked back her hair and signed the little girl's book with a flourish.
'What's it like?' asked the girl's mother, her eyes bright. 'What's it like being a hairity?'
'Well, I know it seems glamorous,' said Shimlara, 'but honestly, I'm just an ordinary, down-to-Globagaskar, I mean down-to-Earth, I mean down-to-Shobble person like you.'
'Oh!' The woman clasped her hands together as if she couldn't think of anything more wonderful than to be Shimlara.
As they walked off, Nicola noticed that Shimlara was already developing a different way of walking: a rather arrogant sort of saunter.
As they walked on, there was a sudden blinding flash of a camera and a voice cried out, 'Shimlara! Shimlara! Over here!' An eager photographer was already dancing alongside them. He must have read the little girl's signograph book to get Shimlara's name so quickly. It was extraordinary.
Shimlara tossed her hair over one shoulder, put a hand on her hip and posed for the photo.
'Gorgeous! Fabulous! You're wonderful!' cried the photographer and blew her a kiss. Shimlara blew one back.
Either Shimlara was an excellent actress, or being famous had gone straight to her head.
'Here's the balloon hire place,' said Greta, who had been looking for the address on the brochure.
'Maybe I should go in on my own,' said Shimlara.