Gossip can either make or break a woman’s career. Unfortunately, there is a fine line between good gossip and bad gossip. The trick is being able to manipulate both in your favour.

I had become a master gossip manipulator by the time I was 23. By the time I was 27, things had gone haywire. It all started when the doorbell rang with an obnoxiously shrill sound, startling me.

“Hello? Who’s there?” I said groggily. This unexpected visit had arrived as a rude awakening from an otherwise peaceful slumber.

“Good morning, my dear!” Miss Celeste chirped from the other side, her voice dripping energy and enthusiasm. “I just called to ask how you were doing. You know, after the untimely attack of hay fever last night.”

I squirmed uncomfortably. Last night, Mrs Schreave had hosted a grand party at the Sapphire Hall. Only the wealthiest in Los Angeles were invited. I happened to be one of the lucky few, all thanks to my skill of playing the guitar, which had taken years to master. After a catastrophe that took place, ruining my dress with milk and garlic stains, and my infuriating sister’s plea for money, I really wasn’t in the mood to leave. Taking advantage of my reputation as a truthful person, I lied, claiming I was ill.

“I’m much better, thank you, Miss Celeste,” I gushed. “It is incredibly sweet of you to call and ask!”

“Thank goodness!” Miss Celeste sighed, her relief apparent. “I was worried we’d have another case of smallpox in town. Remember when Isabelle had it once? Oh, it was dreadful, simply dreadful!”

Ugh! Why did she have to bring my sister up? I was done worrying about her well-being! Everything about Isabelle was fake! Didn’t they know that?! I plastered a smile on my face and nodded.

“By the way, have you heard from her lately?” Miss Celeste thrust this unexpected question at me.

“No!” I lied, my face growing hot. “Isabelle does not need to talk to me, what with all the luxuries in her life, the extravagance and her rich husband!”

“Ah, well. That is quite sad,” Miss Celeste gave me a tiny smile. “But, oh! I brought you food and medicine. It’s best if you take it immediately. Then, you can lie in bed while I bustle around, okay?”

I nodded, taking medicine for a disease that wasn’t even there, before climbing on to my bed. I threw a blanket over myself and dozed off. It seemed I was woken minutes later, though it was probably hours, by the sound of movement in my room.

Miss Celeste stood there, pale. She looked ghastly, wearing an expression of disbelief.

“Isabelle called,” she spoke in a raspy horrified voice. “She ... she told me what had happened. How could you do that to your own sister?”

Miss Celeste broke down, which made me feel terrified. I had barely, if ever, seen her shed tears. It was unnerving to see the strongest person I knew to do that. Miss Celeste just didn’t cry. As if the fear wasn’t enough, the guilt overwhelmed me. Not only had I ignored my sister’s helpless cries for money last night, I had lost Miss Celeste’s trust and that hurt more than anything else.

“I can explain! I ...”

“I don’t want to listen! I’ve had enough of your lies!” she pointed an accusing finger at me.” I wouldn’t have believed it — no one would!”

I hung my head in despair. Manipulating gossip wouldn’t help me now. Miss Celeste had the largest mouth in our city. I would be a wreck by the end of the day. It seemed that a thread in the beautiful tapestry of lies that I had sewn for myself, painting me to be everything I wasn’t, had come lose, and, in turn, the entire tapestry had unraveled. My life here was ruined and my career was finished, all because of the web of lies I had spun.

Published in Dawn, Young World, November 10th, 2018