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The bus pulled up outside the Royal Hotel and in no time flat the children were back inside and settled again. It helped that they were keeping the same room mates as earlier in the week, although the room allocations had altered slightly due to the arrival of other guests. Alice-Miranda excitedly regaled Mr Campbell, the nattily dressed doorman, about their escapades in the north. He was particularly intrigued by their possible encounter with the Loch Ness Monster, but he wasn’t going to tell his wife. They were heading up to the region for the summer and she might not want to go if she knew about it.

Dinner was served upon their arrival and this evening’s guest speaker was Moira McKechnie. She’d started her own tech company when she was in high school and, while studying at university, had built it up to rival some of the biggest in the whole of Scotland. Now, at the ripe old age of twenty-eight, she employed over one thousand people and was renowned for being at the cutting edge of new leadership techniques.

Morag was sitting beside Davina at the back of the room. She looked at her watch at least twenty times during the lecture. Barclay Ferguson was behind her and wondered what was so pressing.

He leaned forward and tapped the woman on the shoulder. ‘Everythin’ all right?’ he whispered.

Morag almost went through the roof, and her reaction wasn’t lost on Davina. Morag was always on edge. Even when they were having their hot chocolate last night she seemed distracted.

‘Of course, sir,’ Morag replied quietly. ‘I just want  to make sure that we run on time as the children are exhausted and we’ll be off quite early in  the morning. There’s a lot to do between now and the presentation on the weekend.’

‘Yes, and I have had confirmation that Her Majesty will be attendin’ the final fling on Saturday,’ the man added casually. He hadn’t wanted to get Morag and Davina’s hopes up, but thought it was about time he told them so they could be appropriately anxious for the rest of the event.

Morag’s heart felt as if it were about to beat right through her chest.

Davina’s mouth dried up in an instant. She turned and faced the man, an angry rash creeping up her neck. ‘What did you just say, Mr Ferguson?’

‘Her Majesty will be joinin’ us on Saturday for the  last of the activities. I want to surprise the children  – they’ll be so excited. Gosh, I’ve done well to keep it to meself for this long,’ the man said, jiggling up and down in his seat.

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Davina said crisply. She was doing her best to keep her cool, but inside she was seething. Talk about making things more complicated than they needed to be.

Barclay grinned, completely impervious to the woman’s tone. ‘I wasn’t one hundred per cent sure.’

Davina wanted to punch him on the nose. Perhaps she could see if her left hook rivalled Alethea’s. ‘But, sir,’ she hissed, ‘some advance warning would have been appreciated. There are protocols to follow.’

Barclay rolled his eyes and sighed. ‘Never mind all that, Miss Stuart. The Queen is comin’! I thought ye’d be thrilled. And it would be nice to see a smile from ye too, Morag.’ He frowned at the woman. ‘Ye both look as if I’ve invited Attila the Hun.’

Morag’s mind was racing a mile a minute. She had been planning on ducking out for a few hours tonight, but she couldn’t possibly if there was Her  Majesty’s arrival to prepare for. What was she to do now?

Alice-Miranda was sitting in the front corner of the room listening to Miss McKechnie’s incredible tale. Out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but notice the tense scene between the FLOP organisers. Running the forum must have been a lot more complicated than they made it seem most of the time. It reminded Alice-Miranda of her mother’s saying about ducks. How they may appear calm on the surface, but if you delve deeper you’d find their little feet were working ten to the dozen.