“I dawdle through to the corridor, shrug on my fleece and then mooch back to the classroom for my bag.‘Got no home to go to, Indigo?’ Miss McDougall asks brightly.‘Yes, Miss. Sorry, Miss.’‘Your cold’s all better now, then?’ she presses.I nod, sniffing loudly for good measure.‘Well, anyway, I’m sorry I got the wrong idea about your gran being ill. That’ll teach me to listen to Kevin Parker. And by the way, your mum called the office this morning about the change of address. I hope it’ll be a happ...y home for you, Indigo. I hope things will be better now.’I blush to the very roots of my hair. What does she mean? What does she know?‘If there’s ever anything you want to talk about, Indigo…’‘Yes, Miss. No, Miss. I mean, there isn’t. I have to go…’Miss McDougall means well, but I think I prefer her when she’s all tweedy and strict, dishing out lines and homework and confiscating nail varnish.I slouch across the playground, and though I should be chirpy because Mum promised sausages for tea, I’m not.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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