Downstairs, wearing a pair of favourite jeans and a black Marilyn Manson T-shirt, Dale practically inhaled his breakfast. He wolfed down some toast and eggs, guzzled two glasses of freshly-squeezed orange juice, and then hurried back to his room. He flipped the top of his laptop open and turned it on. Yet even before he’d commenced working, he was finding distractions. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen the view from his window. It was a small thing, but something he decided he should get out of the way as soon as possible.
Of course it was breathtaking. In a house this size, how could the garden be anything but breathtaking? Edging the freshly mown lawn were the rose gardens, a carpet of dark green foliage dotted with large blossoms of deep red, creamy pink and pristine white. Behind
