Justice hardly dared to breathe as feet clipped past her. Women’s feet, wearing stout walking shoes. Justice didn’t need her torch to identify the slim figure. It was Miss de Vere, wearing a black coat and hat. The headmistress ran down the stairs, her heavy shoes surprisingly light, and Justice heard the sound of a key in a lock. It must be the inner door. Yes, it made a soft, furtive click as it shut behind her.
This is not as bad as it looks.
Okay, it’s almost as bad, but there is one tiny silver lining that you may not pick up on right away – I’m wearing my very best socks. On any other day that a red cap decided to steal my boots, I’d be chasing after him in dirty socks with holes in the toes.
But on this day, I had my clean socks on.