"Anna, where are you?" my mother called, her voice sharp with anxiety. When I appeared she caught me by the arm and gripped me firmly, as though she thought I might run away. "Now, Anna, I want you to stay right here where I can keep an eye on you. Sit in this chair by me ... no, maybe you would be better off in the red chair. We want to get some contrast between you and your surroundings." Unhappily I hoisted myself up onto the red armchair. "Looks like somebody left an old dustrag lying around," Andrea observed critically. "Mrs. Waltzhammer'll think we think she's the new cleaning lady." Both Mother and Kirsty turned on her. "Don't you call Anna an old dustrag!" Kirsty shouted. "Andrea! That will be quite enough out of you," said Mother sternly. "You wait," Andrea said ominously. "You'll see. Mrs. Waltzhammer is going to wipe up the floor with her." "Don't worry, Anna. I'll protect you," Kirsty said. "Nobody's going to use my sister for a dustrag," and she waved her fist belligerently at an imaginary Mrs.
