“We won’t get it all in,” Hana squeaked and Sheila bobbled her head on her shoulders, hurling another box across.
“We have to!” she stage whispered. “Oh, crap!” A box upended itself on Pete’s desk as the women jostled, spewing leaflets like a paper-fall. Sheila snagged the box, lost its entire contents and then dropped the cardboard container on Pete’s head.
“Ah, here we are.” Angus appeared calm as he blocked the doorway, but his guest opened her eyes wide in alarm. “The student centre.” His brows knitted at the sight of the women flanking Pete’s seated body. Pete moved his head and the box swivelled on it, tilting backwards at a jaunty angle and blocking his view. A University of Waikato brochure slid onto the table in front of him and he opened it as though wearing a box was usual pra
