“Chapter One “FRANKIE FOSTER!” My sister’s voice came shrilling down the stairs. “Was this you?” Uh-oh. Trouble! Guardedly, I said, “Depends what you’re talking about.” “This. This is what I’m talking about!” She stood, quivering with rage, on the top step, waving a bit of rag. Well, at first glance it looked like a bit of rag. At second glance I could see that it was in fact her pink-and-white stripy shirt that I had kindly ironed for her just the other day. Unfortunately, there had been a slig...ht problem with the iron; it had got too hot, or something. Obviously faulty. I find that a lot of the things I have to deal with turn out to be faulty. It is somewhat discouraging. “Well?” Angel thumped impatiently on the banister rail. I said, “Well—” “I know it was you, so don’t bother trying to deny it!” I hadn’t been going to deny it. I suppose I have my failings, same as anyone else, but I do try to be truthful whenever I can. “There’s something wrong with the iron,”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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