Chris Welch, a student on the evening programme (therefore mature), threw a party with a theme: guests were to come masked, in the spirit of Venice’s masked balls.
Hilary improvised by using an eye mask given out on long haul flights for sleeping: she cut out holes for the eyes, sewed some decoration on the edges (a pearl, I remember), and voilà, a masquerade ball mask was born!
Not being creative, and not particularly liking fuss, lazy me just put on the Peruvian balaclava I’d bought in an open market in Cusco. So, I turned up at the party with my whole head totally shrouded, even my long black hair which would’ve given me away immediately.
As soon as we arrived, I said hello to the host through the balaclava. Another student, also a Chris in the same class as the host Chris, turned round, saying, “I know that voice!”
(Kingston, London, 1996[?] / 1997[?])
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