Since I rarely give anyone the house number because my time in 52 was always meant to be temporary, I never get calls on it beside the occasional church member who wanted to check with me on something, I didn't bother even trying to get up. Emmanuelle was in the kitchen anyway so expected her to get it.
Then I saw Emmanuelle standing at the kitchen door motioning at me to take the call.
Immediately suspicious, because Emmanuelle has developed a somewhat mischievous streak in her in the last 1 month, I asked her if she was playing a trick on me. I never get calls, I demanded. Are you sure this is not a trick, I accused at her somewhat strongly as I glanced at the receiver sitting on the table upwards.
"My call? For me!?! Are you sure??? Is this a trick?! Emmanuelle, are you sure this is not a trick!?! Oh-hi-ma!"
Emmanuelle started snickering the moment my tone and facial expression changed as I started chatting with my mother who was in the airport at 4.30 in the morning waiting for her flight. Can't blame me for not anticipating the call at all.
And can't blame me for being suspicious at Emmanuelle as well, because before I picked up the phone she gave me a cheeky smile to keep me guessing.
Honestly, I don't know what has come over that usually sombre and dignified French lady. It had nothing to do with me hiding in her room and jumping out at her shouting boo, nor had it anything to do with me constantly laughing at her, or sticking "I'm stupid" stickers on her bag, or stealing her food.
Sigh. I'll miss living in 52 with everyone.