“She is in no trouble at all,” Miss Honey said. “I have come with good news about her.”
“Quite startling news, Mr Wormwood. Do you think I might come in for a few minutes and talk to you about Matilda?”
“We are right in the middle of watching one of our favourite programmes,” Mr Wormwood said.
“This is most inconvenient. Why don't you come back some other time.”
Miss Honey began to lose patience. “Mr Wormwood,” she said,
if you think some rotten TV programme is more important than your daughter's future, then you ought not to be a parent!”
“Why don't you switch the darn thing off and listen to me!”
That shook Mr Wormwood. He was not used to being spoken to in this way.
He peered carefully at the slim frail woman who stood so resolutely out on the porch.
“Oh very well then,” he snapped. “Come on in and let's get it over with.” Miss Honey stepped briskly inside.
“Mrs Wormwood isn't going to thank you for this,” the man said as he led her into the sitting-room
where a large platinum-blonde woman was gazing rapturously at the TV screen.
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