Lizzie stuck her head around the door with a polite smile. 'Hi there, Mr. Phillips?' she asked, looking around to see if Prinklepickle was there as well. She was. Good. 'Mr. Greingoth asked me to give you this,' she said, entering the room and handing him the letter, all the while GLARING at Prinklepickle. 'And, er, Mrs... Pricklepot? I think you're needed upstairs,' she added, still glaring. Stupid woman. Lizzie had had to run all the way here, when instead she could have been doing nice, orderly paperwork - which wouldn't have messed up her hair, either.

She wondered why it was so urgent that Mrs Whatsherface was upstairs, anyway, if she worked for Magical Maintenance. As far as she was aware, there was nothing going wrong in the office. In fact, everything was pretty clean and tidy - especially Lizzie's desk. She had made sure of that before she had sat down. She was kind of OCD about these things.