Chapter Seventy-Six. Pamela, and Smithy.
Pamela’s Point of View.
All the kids squeal with delight as if I am their favourite person in the world, each of them asking me a hundred questions at a million miles per hour. This is why I love my job, working with little inquisitive and not quite so innocent minds. Trust me a class of five- and six-year-olds can be a handful, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I have the best job in the world. I hobble my way, over the Millie, as best I can, without making each kid that asks me a question feel anything less than heard.
“Yes, and this is Sergeant Smith, he is the nice police officer who helped catch the man who crashed into me,” I say to one of the kids who was asking a million questions on if the car crumpled up. Like I say, not quite so innoce
