Hana worked alone until eleven thirty when the bell rang for morning tea. She texted Sheila to ask advice about the science teacher’s dilemma and received no reply. When he rang her for the fifth time, she lost the plot. “No!” she hissed. “Sheila’s not here and I can’t authorise a purchase that big. There’s nothing written down and I don’t recall any conversations about you building an extension and charging it to our budget.” Hana rolled her eyes at his retort. “Don’t even think about it. I’m emailing Donald right now and if that bill gets paid on the strength of a fake signature, you’re toast!”
A permanent knot in her stomach tightened as she anticipated Caroline’s return. She steeled herself for it, practicing clever sentences and intelligent responses to pretend arguments in her head.
