Who

The schoolgirl trudged through the swampy yard, loose tarpaulins flapping from the bare roof beams of the earthquake ravaged house behind her. She wore a faded, mud splattered kilt that managed to be both slightly too loose and almost entirely hemless in an effort to make the fabric conform to length regulations. A maroon cardigan, which appeared to consist almost entirely of pills and ladders, sat over a crumpled, grubby blouse which stuck out over the kilt, displaying the raggedy gussets. Her oversized backpack was a faded grey-brown that might once have intended to be black, and had the beaten up, worldwary look of the terminally recycled. Her hair was a scruffy dark brown, sun-bleached to gold at the ends, and cut to shoulder-length in layers that emphasised her olive face, and a wispy fringe which fell over he eyes, slightly obstructing her view of the book which she was engrossed in. She reached the low foundation that the hedge sat on, and clambered up and into the hedge, ducking under the low-hanging branch, without ever taking her eyes off the novel she clutched. Once inside the hedge the foliage was hollowed out somewhat, and she straightened, brushing a clinging peice of greenery from her fringe. Her stockinged leg came in contact with something warm and untreelike, causing her to step back aburptly, lowering the book to reveal what new creature resided within her hedge.
"Hello," said the creature. Only it wasn't a creature, it was a man, in a blue pinstripe suit with a reddish purple tie, crouched by the partially revealed corner of what appeared to be a strange, blue wooden box. He straightened up, tucking something blue and metalic into his inside pocket. "Oh," replied the girl vaugely, "Sorry, I didn't see you. I was reading." She gestured aimlessly with the book in her left hand. "Quite all right," He said with a charming, impish grin, "I've done it myself many times. And may I say you were doing a brilliant job navigating up until you bumped into me." The girl glanced away, slightly embarassed. "I've memorised the route home." She mumbled.
Amusement lit the strange man's face, and the girl found herself relaxing and returning the smile with one of her own, flashing straight white teeth, which spoke of years of torturous braces. "I'm Orla. May I ask why you're in my hedge?" "Oh, is it yours? Sorry, I may have squashed some things a bit. Plants and such. And a window. It was on the ground before, I swear."
Orla's lips twitched. "Well it doesn't really belong to ME, this hedge. It's just how I get home from school. I think it's these guys'." She waved the book behind her, toward the ruined house. "They left in the earthquake, 'cos their place got a bit smash. And don't worry about the window, it's been broken for years. I think I've stepped on it a couple of times." The man slumped dramaticly, an expression of mock relief plastered on his face. "Oh good. Wouldn't have been the best of introductions, vandalising your property. Though i do tend to do that alot. Unintentionally of course." His eyes went suddenly owlish with ernestness, but little golden lights danced in their chocolate depths, in an echo of a smile.