“Yes, Ma’am.” Alice nervously says as she hands her case to Billy. She’d rather carry it herself and feels it completely unfair that the boy is expected to carry her case too, but she’s not going to argue with Mrs Postlethwaite.
“Oh you can call me Miss.” Mrs Postlethwaite says in a sickly sugary tone. Her false smile becomes slightly sinister as she turns and sneers at the boy. “Come!” she says, taking Alice by the hand and expecting the boy to follow. Her large house is about a mile out of the small town and poor Billy is exhausted as they crest the hill on which it’s perched. “Hurry up boy!” Mrs Postlethwaite barks. “Don’t dawdle! And don’t drag them… carry them!”