They've got to boot someone else off their list! I'm going upstairs to wash it now!”
With that the man dashed out of the room and Mrs Wormwood, sighing deeply, went to the telephone to call the beauty parlour.
“He does do some pretty silly things now and again, doesn't he, mummy?” Matilda said.
The mother, dialling the number on the phone, said, “I'm afraid men are not always quite as clever as they think they are.
You will learn that when you get a bit older, my girl.”
Miss Honey
Matilda was a little late in starting school. Most children begin Primary School at five or even just before,
but Matilda's parents, who weren't very concerned one way or the other about their daughter's education,
had forgotten to make the proper arrangements in advance. She was five and a half when she entered school for the first time.
The village school for younger children was a bleak brick building called Crunchem Hall Primary School.
It had about two hundred and fifty pupils aged from five to just under twelve years old.
The head teacher, the boss, the supreme commander of this establishment was a formidable middle-aged lady whose name was Miss Trunchbull.
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