Storm over the Caribbean

01. Honey, I'm Home!

It was a completely normal day in the bustling city of London. The calls of gulls echoed across the harbour. Vendors praised their wares at innumerable roadside stalls, and swarms of people were bustling through the streets, intent on their own business, not paying the least attention to each other. All in all, it was a peaceful, perfectly average morning.

That is, until one of the pedestrians looked up and froze in place.

Another slammed into him from behind, and was about to start cursing when he also looked up, and his mouth dropped open. Another passer-by noticed and, glancing up, stopped in his tracks, eyes widening. Then another. And another. Slowly, they started backing away.

"Why, thank you for making way, gentlemen," came a voice from high above. "I'm glad you recognize my magnificent marvelousness. You may prostrate yourselves, if you wish."

"Bleaawwwk!"

"Ah, you see? Ambrose Junior thanks you, too."

Patting my trusty camel's neck, I urged him forward, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea with Moses phobia. "Gee-up! Let's hurry, shall we?" I smirked. "We wouldn't want to turn up for work late, now, would we?"

"Bleeaagk!"

"So glad you agree."

And, patting my double-humped friend, I spurred him on down the road, which was suddenly amazingly empty and easy to navigate.

Why, you may ask, was I causing a scandal by riding through the streets of London on a camel named after my husband?

Well, duh. It was a camel. In the middle of London. How could I resist?

But, besides this very obvious and universally agreed-upon point, there was also one other. Looking up at the towering façade of my workplace, otherwise known as Empire House, I spotted the fellow I'd been looking for. Right there, next to the front door, stood the towering form of Karim, my dear husband's bodyguard and personal walking armoury.

"Oy, Karim!" Beaming, I waved at him. "Wonderful day, isn't it?"

He responded to my cheerful expression with a face etched from wood. "I am fairly certain when the Sahib said that, due to being in the family way, you should not walk to work, he did not intend for you to come riding on the back of a camel."

"He did not?" I widened my eyes in totally genuine surprise, looking around at the street on which several carriages were parked. "But what else could he have possibly been referring to?"

He sent me a dirty look. "I couldn't possibly say."

My grin widened. "Dicky Darling is rationing his staff's words again, is he?"

"Get. Inside!"

"Right-o! Have fun bodyguarding."

Sliding down from my comfy hump, I strode over to the front door and put the reins into Karim's hand.

"Here, take care of him, will you?"

The last thing I saw before disappearing into the building was Ambrose Junior taking aim at Karim.

"Agh! No, you furry beast, I order you to desist! You shall not spit at—gggk! Agh! You daima rākhaśa!"

Whistling, I stepped into the building. Instantly, the cool and soothing air of the familiar entrance hall enveloped me. The sounds of hurried footsteps echoed through the massive room, and hushed whispers rose from where some brave people were courageous enough to waste their work hours on talking. Any such whispers, however, abruptly cut off when they saw a woman step into the room, whistling a cheerful melody.