Mrs Bradshaw took her upstairs to the room with the desk and examination table. On the desk were a sandwich and an apple.
“Your lunch,” said Mrs Bradshaw. “Eat it while I attend to some work.”
Emma sat eating the sandwich while Mrs Bradshaw worked at her computer. How long would the Master be delayed, she wondered. All this training might be good for her, but it was hardly what she had come for. And she didn’t like being constantly under scrutiny. Living on her own, she was used to her privacy. Sitting here wearing only a T-shirt which didn’t even cover her hips, being watched as she ate, was not at all what she cared for.
When Emma had finished her sandwich Mrs Bradshaw got up from her desk.
“Time for you to have a rest.”
Emma had slept little on the plane, and though the adrenaline
