The School For Scruff: 1.

I get up early. Not that I enjoy it, but seventeen cats gang up on me every morning and force me to get out of bed and feed them. And then I might as well stay out of bed and take my shower before Scruff.

Scruff is a late riser. She sleeps in, then hangs around in her pyjamas for a while. I still love her, of course. Who couldn't love Scruff?

I was in the kitchen making breakfast when she came in.

"Hi there," I said cheerily. She brushed untidy hair out of her face and smiled back.

"Hi there, Scruff. Sleep well?"

"Of course. Your place has comfy beds."

"Expensive too. We have to see the board of Pudding Norton College at the May Fair hotel this afternoon, Scruff."

"I'm not going to dress up for it," she protested. I laughed.

"I'm not Lynette, Scruff! But at least put on a sweater. I don't think they want to see that bandage on your arm."
"It's not my fault!" she protested. "It's your cats!"

"Still, cover up that bandage. I'll be paying the college a little extra so they'll accept you after you dropped out of your old school with four GCSEs."

"Sis! You know I was having problems!"

"Yes. I don't blame you. Come on, breakfast's ready. I'll tell you about Pudding Norton College."

I told her. Sir Richard Arcos, former movie mogul and now rural squire, had been pretty specific in some of what he had told me. This, this, this, this, this and this. Scruff gasped as I spoke.

"Wow!" she said, "I'm going to THAT place?"

"Oh, yes. I'll be staying with Sir Richard and Lady Arcos in the manor house, not here in London, so you'll be safe."

"I won't. But I don't mind. I'm not some fragile little girl..."

"Oh, I know." I served out her breakfast. "So you'll do it?"

"Of course!" she laughed. "Sounds fun. I get sent to school at a notorious place as a sort of detective!"

I shook my head. I hoped I had not made some horrible mistake.