“Who the
blazes are you?” Ms Firnley demands, turning to face a tall thin
woman in her early thirties with mesmerizingly long red hair and
green eyes.
“Sorry.
Did I startle you? I was just on my way in when I heard the furore.”
“And you
are?”
“Oh yes,
sorry. Call me Fox.” She extends her hand. “Head office should
have told you I was coming? For the inspection? And by your face I
can see that they didn't. Never mind, let's pretend you were
expecting me.”
She takes
the child's notebook from Ms Firnley's hands with ease. “Now,
what's all this then?” Her eyes dart across the page. “Ooh,
tricky.”
