paper. The pages didnât feel like newsprint. And he wondered how they would get the paper out here in the middle of the ocean anyway?
Neville thumbed through the rest of the paper, picking up the odd word here and there before flipping back to page three.
Henderson returned with a breakfast tray laden with pancakes and maple syrup, bacon and eggs, several boxes of cereal, milk, fruit salad and more juice.
âI hope everything will be to your liking, Master Neville.â The steward sat the tray down on the small table for two which stood in an alcove at the end of the sitting room.
Neville sat at the table and glanced warily at the steward. Henderson decided that Neville might be more comfortable attending to his own breakfast, so he moved over to the couch and began to plump the cushions. It was then that he noticed the newspaper on the coffee table.
âI am sorry, sir; Iâve given you the Spanish newspaper. We have them printed from the internet and I must have picked that up by mistake. Heâs a busy man.â Henderson pointed at the photograph.
âW-w-what does it say?â Neville whispered.
âOh, heâs heading to Spain,â Henderson replied.
âW-w-when?â Neville stammered.
âI think heâs there tomorrow. A two-week tour â very unexpected â some business and then a holiday by the sea, it says.â
Neville gulped. His eyes spun and his brain felt like it was packed tightly with cotton wool. Without warning he slumped forward and his head glanced off the corner of the cereal bowl and hit the table with a thud. A trickle of blood began to ooze from his eyebrow.
âAre you all right, Master Neville?â Henderson rushed to his side. But the poor boy was out cold.
A lice-Miranda and Millie were seated with Millieâs parents, her grandfather Ambrose and Mrs Oliver for breakfast. Hugh and Cecelia were yet to appear. Charlotte and Lawrence were holding court at a long table with over twenty of their friends vying for the happy coupleâs attention.
Alice-Miranda had given them a wave when she and Millie had entered the room. She would catch up with them later when they werenât quite so busy. Except that Alice-Miranda hadnât yet found an occasion when they werenât being mobbed by guests.
Alice-Miranda waved to Poppy and Annie who were sitting at an adjacent table. Their mother, Lady Sarah, was still looking a little off-colour.
âGosh your motherâs cousin wears a lot of jewellery,â Millie commented.
âMummy says Lady Sarah has one of the best collections in the world,â Alice-Miranda replied.
âThose diamond earrings are enormous. I wonder if sheâll let me take a photo of her.â Millie picked her camera up from the table.
âIâm sure that the guests donât need to be stalked by you and your camera, Millicent,â her father tutted. âPlease put it away for a while.â
âBut Dad, those earrings are the size of ping-pong balls â no one will believe me if I donât . . .â Millie began.
Hamish was firm. âAnd Lady Sarah can wear earrings the size of bowling balls if she chooses â and she doesnât need you pestering her for a picture. You are not the shipâs own paparazzo.â
âOh, I didnât think of it like that,â Millie replied.
Alice-Miranda giggled.
âImagine earrings the size of bowling balls. That would be like having three heads,â Millie chuckled.
Four waiters arrived and simultaneously deposited all manner of tasty treats in front of the hungry diners.
âThese look rather good,â Ambrose McLoughlin-McTavish commented as he dug his fork into the mountain of scrambled eggs on his plate.
âYes, I must agree,â Mrs Oliver praised.
âReally?â Alice-Miranda stared at Dolly Oliver across the table.
âAnd why ever do you say that, young lady?â Several rows of lines
Neville thumbed through the rest of the paper, picking up the odd word here and there before flipping back to page three.
Henderson returned with a breakfast tray laden with pancakes and maple syrup, bacon and eggs, several boxes of cereal, milk, fruit salad and more juice.
âI hope everything will be to your liking, Master Neville.â The steward sat the tray down on the small table for two which stood in an alcove at the end of the sitting room.
Neville sat at the table and glanced warily at the steward. Henderson decided that Neville might be more comfortable attending to his own breakfast, so he moved over to the couch and began to plump the cushions. It was then that he noticed the newspaper on the coffee table.
âI am sorry, sir; Iâve given you the Spanish newspaper. We have them printed from the internet and I must have picked that up by mistake. Heâs a busy man.â Henderson pointed at the photograph.
âW-w-what does it say?â Neville whispered.
âOh, heâs heading to Spain,â Henderson replied.
âW-w-when?â Neville stammered.
âI think heâs there tomorrow. A two-week tour â very unexpected â some business and then a holiday by the sea, it says.â
Neville gulped. His eyes spun and his brain felt like it was packed tightly with cotton wool. Without warning he slumped forward and his head glanced off the corner of the cereal bowl and hit the table with a thud. A trickle of blood began to ooze from his eyebrow.
âAre you all right, Master Neville?â Henderson rushed to his side. But the poor boy was out cold.
A lice-Miranda and Millie were seated with Millieâs parents, her grandfather Ambrose and Mrs Oliver for breakfast. Hugh and Cecelia were yet to appear. Charlotte and Lawrence were holding court at a long table with over twenty of their friends vying for the happy coupleâs attention.
Alice-Miranda had given them a wave when she and Millie had entered the room. She would catch up with them later when they werenât quite so busy. Except that Alice-Miranda hadnât yet found an occasion when they werenât being mobbed by guests.
Alice-Miranda waved to Poppy and Annie who were sitting at an adjacent table. Their mother, Lady Sarah, was still looking a little off-colour.
âGosh your motherâs cousin wears a lot of jewellery,â Millie commented.
âMummy says Lady Sarah has one of the best collections in the world,â Alice-Miranda replied.
âThose diamond earrings are enormous. I wonder if sheâll let me take a photo of her.â Millie picked her camera up from the table.
âIâm sure that the guests donât need to be stalked by you and your camera, Millicent,â her father tutted. âPlease put it away for a while.â
âBut Dad, those earrings are the size of ping-pong balls â no one will believe me if I donât . . .â Millie began.
Hamish was firm. âAnd Lady Sarah can wear earrings the size of bowling balls if she chooses â and she doesnât need you pestering her for a picture. You are not the shipâs own paparazzo.â
âOh, I didnât think of it like that,â Millie replied.
Alice-Miranda giggled.
âImagine earrings the size of bowling balls. That would be like having three heads,â Millie chuckled.
Four waiters arrived and simultaneously deposited all manner of tasty treats in front of the hungry diners.
âThese look rather good,â Ambrose McLoughlin-McTavish commented as he dug his fork into the mountain of scrambled eggs on his plate.
âYes, I must agree,â Mrs Oliver praised.
âReally?â Alice-Miranda stared at Dolly Oliver across the table.
âAnd why ever do you say that, young lady?â Several rows of lines
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