Do you know you left your room looking like a rubbish heap this morning? Do you think I’ve got nothing better to do than run around after you clearing up your mess? Who do you think you are, walking around in a dream all day? What’s going on in that head of yours, that’s what I’d like to know. What’s going to become of you? Who’s going to want to know you, if you are so messy and forgetful? Who would employ you?

How did you manage to leave your piano music at home again? You know where I found it, don’t you? Whatever possessed you to hide it on top of the wardrobe? Did you climb up on a chair to put it there? What exactly is wrong with you, girl? Do you think I pay for piano lessons for my own benefit? How many times have you practised this week? How are you going to pass your grades if you don’t practice? What must the teacher think when you turn up without your music? You like playing the piano don’t you? What did you say? Why are you muttering? You don’t want piano lessons? Why ever not? What am I going to do with you, Valerie? When are you going to grow up?