“Keep water with ya and stay outta the sun and you’ll be right,” she said, still smiling. She gave a nod to my hair. “Don’t think I need to tell you that.” Ah, yes. My hair. I would never escape people pointing it out as if I didn’t know. It was a rusty-red. An auburn-copper, even. I’d have thought it was a nice colour, but almost everyone just called me a redhead or a ginger. Or a carrot top.
