"Bonjour, bonjour! Come in, sit, my lovely children!"

Brooklyn turned to look at Sasha with a raised eyebrow when she saw her French teacher. She was 4,11, wrinkly, had greying hair, bright pink glasses and was grinning madly at the passing students.

"We call her Mrs Mental," Sasha whispered and Brooklyn stifled a laugh as the girls took a seat towards the back of the classroom. "She's a lovely old dear, but she's as nutty as you can get."

Brooklyn chuckled. "I suck at French," she admitted.

Sasha grinned. "Welcome to the club. Alice used to be in this class, but she got kicked out."

"Why?" Brooklyn wondered and Sasha...