I turned the keys in the lock and noticed the car on the drive. It was the British guy. Clara would be disappointed- I persuaded her to stay at home in the end because her parents get seriously freaked if they come home and don't find her there. She's left notes before: they do not help because they make Clara's mother think her daughter has been kidnapped by oil barons (I'm not making this up). I threw my coat onto the rack and found our "babysitter" sitting in the living room.
'Where are Freddie and Tess?'
'Your brother is doing homework and your sister is upstairs in bed.'
I glanced at the clock, and decided to be nice this time. Usually I'm quite condescending toward guys sent to look after us, but it was nearly eight and I knew what this meant. '..Nice work. Tess must like you.' The last guy Dad sent along underestimated the power of Tess Richards. Needless to say he will not be coming back. I flomped onto one of the sofas and turned on the plasma, surfing the cable channels until I found what I was after. CSI flashed up and I settled down. This was my opportunity to solve crimes: being in eleventh grade I kindof have to leave investigative work for my spare time. British dude looked at me funny: he musn't have had me down for the crime series watching type. Just so long as he didn't think I was only watching for Eric Szmanda. Because he was Clara's type (of course: man was her type) but for me? No thank you.
About ten minutes in I pointed at the TV and mumbled, 'It was quite obviously her brother. Garotting....gross but nevertheless the method...and that is not realistic. The CSI team would not do that.' I loved getting the plot: it made me feel one step closer to the dream. And this wasn't one of those pipedreams, because I knew how to get there. I had the leaflets. I tossed the remote over to British dude and went off upstairs. Because after all, I was not eighteen yet and therefore uni and training and the dream would have to wait.