"Well I do not know what she will tell her mother," said Ann, as she rose aloft and floated back the way that she had flown before, "But it's a good thing that I found her asleep. Her mother will never come up with her own explanation for her rescue, but she will never believe Kay's story about me either. She will have to think that Kay dreamed about the flying girl and was in fact rescued another way. The fire department had better get here soon, or they will never save the house."

“She can’t tell her mother about ME,” said Wendell.

Ann came to rest on the roof of a house just next to the street. She did not wish to risk floating down to the ground. Kay's immediate danger was over, and it would now be worth spending some time on concealing her identity. Ann waited for a break in the traffic and then floated over to a tall tree on the footpath.

"Now this would only look ridiculously brave, rather than very impossible," she thought as she slid down the trunk, using the reassurance that she could always slow her fall with the bracelets. The tree forked only once and had two tall trunks emerging from the singular one at its base. There were no branches for climbing purposes. So Ann could only slide.

When she reached the fork, her feet received a small jolt of impact, because she had just brought them around to help cushion her fall. She had made the entire slide with her hands linked together. She had briefly touched the controls of her bracelets to slow her descent only slightly.

"Any more than that, and it would have looked suspicious to any passers by," she thought,   "So I still had to bump my feet a little on this bit here."

She waited a few seconds, glanced around and then jumped down to the footpath. Then she walked back to Mona Vale Road, crossed at some traffic lights, and returned to her hidden schoolbag.

"I'm glad I am not a grown up. I do not have to buy bus tickets. I can use my free bus pas," she thought, as she waited for the next bus to arrive, "So I will tell people that I was delayed coming home, because of something that happened while I was on the bus. They do not need to know the full story. It will explain why I was a little late though."

Ann enjoyed sitting at the back of a bus. She could turn around and look out at the traffic behind her, which was much easier to watch, than it would have been at a side-on angle. As she reveled in a further manifestation of this pleasurable habit, she noticed a dark green car following the bus.

"I hope it stays behind us," she thought, "I love those cars. I don't even know what brand they are, but they are nice to watch, just breezy."
Fortunately the car remained behind the bus until it reached Freedom Fields.

"Lucky for me," thought Ann, "It's a wonder he didn't try to overtake every time we stopped. Well there was a lot of traffic in the other lanes. Maybe that man in the green car likes watching buses, the way I like watching cars."

The man did not like watching buses. He did have an interest in red haired schoolgirls. The man was a reporter, who had followed a fire engine to a burning house in Mona Vale Road. When he arrived, he had listened to the impossible story of a small girl called Kay, of how a flying girl with red hair had rescued her from her burning house.

"Now you must have had a dream," said her mother, "You were asleep for a while before you got out of there, you said. It was probably a neighbour who found our ladder in the shed when she saw the house on fire."

"But it was after I woke up. I was awake when she carried me, Mummy."

"She's an excitable little bundle," said her mother to the fireman.

"That's alright Madam. I think you'll still be needing us to put this blaze out. Whoever saved your little girl here has made our job a lot easier, and not quite as urgent, now that we're only rushing to save property, rather than lives."

The reporter snapped the shutter button of his camera, and took a photograph of the burning house. Then he returned to his car ignoring the distant words of one of the firemen:

"She might have snuck outside to play in the first place, and then dreamed up the story of the flying rescue when she saw the fire, so that she would never be in any trouble for sneaking out."

As the reporter noticed a red haired girl crossing Mona Vale Road, the reporter had slowly followed her in his car, intrigued by the coincidence.

"A good reporter always follows up a wild and unusual lead," he had decided.