We must get some sleep,’ said Dexter. He was thinking, ‘This must never happen again.’
There was daylight outside the window. Dexter was still awake and he was looking at Emma, who was sleeping next to him. ‘I could leave quietly now, before she wakes up,’ he told himself. ‘Then I don’t need to see her again. Will she mind? Probably, girls usually do mind. But will I mind?’
It was strange, but the answer to this was not clear to Dexter. There was something about Emma. She was pretty, but she seemed to hate herself for that. The red colour of her hair was out of a bottle and her hairstyle was awful. Dexter guessed that Emma’s hair had been cut by Tilly Killick, the large, noisy