Chapter 3
The room was flooded with sunlight. A breeze was leading the curtains in a graceful dance. Papers were flapping on the small wooden desk by the window, eager to fly away and only prevented from doing so because one corner of Dale’s laptop happened to be resting on the pile.
There was a knock at the door.
“Yes,” Dale mumbled, trying to sit up but collapsing back into the pillows.
“Sorry to disturb you Master Dale, but I was wondering if you would like your breakfast brought up here this morning.”
Dale squinted at the immaculately dressed butler, whose silver-grey hair was still thick and was today combed neatly back across his scalp from a ruler-straight side part.
“No thanks, Joseph. I think I might lie in bed until lunch time.”
“Very good, sir.”
The door shut quietly. Da
