Ever since Mini-Me finished reading Lauren Child’s Ruby Redfort, a novel about a young girl who is an avid detective, she is often to be found in her bedroom, kneeling on the bed, nose pressed up against the window, watching the world go by. Our house is tall and narrow – neatly stacked over three floors – and, with her room being at the top of the house and overlooking the street, she is afforded a great view of unsuspecting passers-by and the ‘goings on’ outside.
She notes down her observations in her specially assigned ‘Detective Notebook’. Although she fiercely defends the privacy of the contents of the book, she is sometimes so outraged by what she has seen that she cannot help but share it with me.
“Mummy!” she exclaimed, brandishing her notebook in my face. “Look at this!”
I glanced at what she had written, trying to focus on the words contained in the glittery ink.
