Simon looks on nervously from behind the half open door. “Are you just going to stand there?” I ask, a bit too fiercely. “Sorry.” “Stop sayi...g that!” “What?” he asks. “Sorry! It makes no difference. Just come in and shut the door.” I am, by now, just about in control of my emotions. Enough to be able to string a sentence together. Simon comes further in through the door and closes it behind him. Like I was, he is dressed for a funeral, so I suppose his parents must have brought him. I don't. .. and... wipe your mouth, for god's sake... !"I heard Mrs. Barlow mumble "yes ma'am", submissively.I heard the rustling of their clothes, and decided to make a break. I crept from my stall quietly, and then raced for the exit and not bothering to look back... ... until I felt a firm hand grip my shoulder."Well well... what have we here?"I spun around to see the most impressive looking woman with rootbeer hair spilling across her burgandy blazer and a trendy dark blue designer skirt with. More

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