“Aye,” chipped in Paul, who always took his cue from Sam. “Some o us would like oor breakfast.” With a well-practised air of indifference, Carrie turned back into the bathroom and lifted the kettle from the floor, along with a colander and a jug from the window sill, then picked her way gingerly through a morass of wires, plaster and uprooted floorboards, back into the scullery. “How much longer are they going to take to put in this flaming electricity?” she moaned, dumping the kettle down on the bunker top. “Anither twa days.” “Oh, Sam, you don’t mean to tell me we have to live in this blooming mess for another two days.” Carrie stopped and stared down into the exposed foundations of the house. “Honestly,” she continued in doleful tones, “our house looks worse than Clydebank did after the Luftwaffe were finished blitzing it eight years ago.” “And it’s Hannah’s weekend off and she’ll be right upset if we haven’t got the place properly redd up.”
What do You think about In A Class Of Their Own (2013)?
