He was intrigued when she took out a small brown paper bag. His nostrils began to pick up the smell of something spicy. Suddenly she delved inside with her hand and pulled out a large root of ginger. “Ginger, Miss?” he asked her. “Who gave you permission to speak?” she snapped. “Yes, it is ginger.” He had used it in cooking before but he always preferred the ready prepared paste. This was a three pronged root. Slowly and carefully He watched as she slowly and carefully cut off the two outer root protrusions leaving just a large one in the centre. The scent of the spice filled the air as she began to peel the hard outer skin from the root. “Ever heard of figging?” she asked him. “Frigging?” “Frigging, Miss,” she said sternly. “No I meant figging. F-i-g-g-i-n-g,” she spelled out. “No, Miss.” “Well, I was going to suggest that you Google it, but that would be rather difficult, wouldn’t it in your condition?” she told him. “So, I’ll give you a practical lesson.” He watched as. ” “I told you I would be in close contact with you, precious. I actually wasn’t going to contact you for another week or two to let you settle back into your normal routine. I didn't want any of the boys on the bus thinking anything could be bothering you, but I saw something that alarmed me this morning between you and someone else.” “What are you talking about? What do you mean you saw something alarming this morning? I have been on the bus all day and I haven’t seen you since our last talk,” I say, puzzled as I press my hand to the door to shut it completely in worry that one of the boys could walk in on me talking with Chandler. I hear his gruff laugh and I squeeze my eyes shut in fear of what is to come. “Did you not believe that officer when he told you that I had connections? Because I do. I have connections everywhere, precious.” “I still don’t understand how you saw me though, Chandler? You would only be able to see me if you had cameras around the bus...” I trail off and.
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