Chapter Seventeen
Neeve had them up bright and early the next morning, demanding her breakfast. And as he and Abra sat companionably in the kitchen while she fed Neeve, and he wolfed down three Weetabix, he got his brain sorted so that it was ready for Bradley’s interrogation.
‘Will you be late tonight?’ Abra asked.
‘Shouldn’t think so. Nothing else is breaking.’ Neeve gave a big burp. ‘Apart from you, Princess.’ He slurped the last of his second mug. ‘How are we off for time?’
‘Why don’t you try the clock? That’ll tell you. It’s not seven yet.’
‘Still, I’d better present my face bright and shiny. If nothing else it’ll put Bradley out of countenance, so it’ll get my day off to the right start.’ He stood up and grabbed his jacket. ‘What have you got planned for the day?’
‘Apart from a
