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Chapter 11: Taking Stock
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... ings ahead of us looked all the same. Wooden shacks of one storey. Noise and smells drifted towards us as we approached. It was hard to identify either.
My names Claire, by the way, said the girl with the big nose. This is Flossie.
I turned to look at the plump red-head. Really?
Oh ah, not really, she said in the broadest Brummie accent Id ever heard. Actually, its Victoria, but everybodys always called me that since I were a babby.
Im Colin and this is Maurice. < ...
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