'Miss Bertignac, a word, if I may.'
There goes my break. He's done this to me before - a word by his reckoning equals a thousand for the rest of us. The others are hanging back, keen to hear. I wait and look down at my feet. My lace is undone as usual. How the hell can I have an IQ of 160 and not be able to tie my shoelaces?
'You should be careful. With your interviews, I mean. Don't meet unsuitable people. Perhaps your mother or father should go along with you.'