Blue

Simon

As we were about to pay for admission to the aquarium, I panicked.

"Baz, do we still have our wallets?" I say, knowing I sound like an anxious mother but unable to help it. Baz's already light skin paled one shade lighter, now nearly white. We checked our pockets; Baz had his and he breathed a sigh of relief, but mine had been lost in the fall. It had been in my pack that I had brought with me to London. It was no doubt, at the bottom of the Thames by now. Along with my mobile, our lunch and an umbrella (London, was a rainy city). I sighed, we'll have to replace the phone and the contents of my wallet tomorrow.

Baz goes up to the man at the booth and buys us both wristbands, "Come on, here's yours," he says as he hands me mine, "You have to wear it all times in the aquarium, otherwise you won't be able to get into any of the exhibits."