This was Imogen’s plan:
Saturday afternoon: travel to Sydney
Saturday evening: attend a ball
Saturday night: stay in Sydney
Sunday: spend the day with a friend
Sunday evening: return home
Imogen had a big weekend ahead of her. She was so excited. She was going to have a fantastic time.
“I’ll phone you on Sunday afternoon when I know what train I’ll be arriving home on,” she told me.
So on Sunday afternoon, the phone rang, and Gemma-Rose answered it. “It’s Imogen. She sounds strange.”
“Mum, I’ve had an accident. I’m waiting for the ambulance to arrive.”
An accident? An ambulance? I could have panicked. I nearly did. But instead I asked, “What happened?”
“I’ve hurt my ankle. It’s probably not broken.” I sighed with relief. I can cope with ankles. “We decided to go ice-skating. I fell over and injured my foot. The manager of the ice-rink has phoned for an ambulance.”
“Don’t worry! Dad and I are on our way.” Minutes later, Andy and I were sailing along the freeway towards Sydney.
We found Imogen in the first-aid room, propped up on a bed, an ice pack on her ankle. By this time she was smiling, “The ambulance arrived. The paramedic looked at my ankle. It’s probably just sprained, Mum. I’m okay.” She pointed to a pair of crutches. “He gave me those. Looks like I’ll be off my feet for a few days.”
Of course Imogen got teased a little when she arrived home. She hobbled through the front door with one bare and very sore foot to find three very inquisitive sisters waiting for her.
“Did you fall off your high heels while you were dancing?”
“You know I wore ballet flats to the ball!”
“Don’t tell me you fell out of your flat shoes!”
“You came home from the ball with only one shoe. Did Prince Charming find the other one?” Gemma-Rose giggled.
“Do you think you’ll ever go ice-skating again?”
“Oh yes! We were given free tickets to make up for missing most of the session. As soon as my ankle is healed we’re going back.”
Imogen couldn't tell us much about ice skating. Her time on the ice had been very short. Instead she told us all about the ball.
“I’m so glad I didn’t wear high heels to the ball,” said Imogen, as she finished the story of her evening. “All the other girls were complaining about their sore feet. I'm so glad I didn't end up with sore feet…” Her voice trailed away as she looked at her elevated foot. We all grinned.
So Imogen was a beautiful princess for a few short hours. She floated about in her dreamy dress and glittery shoes, dancing (or trying to) and smiling and having fun. Then the clock struck midnight (or 2 pm), and as she raced across the ice, she fell head over heels and lost her glass slipper. And now she is hobbling around on crutches.
Cinderella on Ice.. a real fairy tale story.