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Juliet and Sam got up, showered, and were knocking at Olive’s office door at eight on the dot, the appointed dinner time. They were hungry, it was Friday, and Olive had said it would be fish fingers, the Cardinal’s favourite. Juliet held the door as the two ladies wheeled in the fish fingers, mentioning, as they unloaded the carts, they were lucky to get dinner as the Cardinal was known to be a bit of a pig where fish fingers were concerned, harrumphed, and excused themselves.
The atmosphere in Olive’s office was serious. ‘Sit,’ Olive said.
Juliet and Sam took up the chairs they had previously sat upon and waited, the smell of the food getting to them, their juices flowing. ‘Mike will be here soon and I can brief you on what has happened then.’
‘What has happened?’ Both Juliet and S
