CHAPTER 8
“You held how many?” Ru asks when we get back.
Mum’s in her studio, ordering dad about as he tries to unblock the sink. We know we’re the ones making an early dinner tonight in order to eat before Mr. Wickthorn gets here.
“Five,” I say. Ru drops the spatula he’s holding. The Grand Vizier lets out a snigger from his perch in the corner.
“And you didn’t panic?” Ru says, as I hold out my arm for the Grand Vizier to land on. He flies over straight away and continues to mock Ru with every laugh in his vocabulary.
“Very funny,” Ru chides. The Grand Vizier turns his back to him.
I laugh, missing the knock at the door.
“Oh no,” Ru says, going ashen. “I hope that’s not Wickthorn already.”
Luckily dad strolls in, thoroughly harassed, and hears the second knock. Ru and I peer around
