He awoke to the sound of gently clinking crockery. He slowly opened his eyes. He was lying in bed, the sun was streaming through the translucent curtains, the smell of coffee mingled delightfully with that of fried bacon, mushrooms and tomatoes. Turning his head towards the noise, he could see Graham standing by the door holding a large tray. The sun, the anticipation of a good breakfast, and the luxurious feeling of the whole situation led Andrew to suspect that he was a very happy man. He sat up and greeted the butler with a friendly smile.

"Good morning, Graham, another beautiful day, unless I'm very much mistaken."

"No, Sir is not mistaken, it is indeed another glorious day. I presume from Sir's evident joie de vivre that Sir has signed the contract."

"No, my joie can be attributed, partly to your appearance with breakfast, and partly to the carefree mood in which I find myself."

"Sir had a good evening?" enquired Graham as he placed the tray across Andrew's lap.

"It started out well. Unfortunately the plans I had for the latter part of the evening were dashed. It seems that one night of passion, out of wedlock, is equivalent to a week's voluntary service in a soup kitchen. I was judged, by the young lady in question, to be worth only one, or at a stretch two, days of providing nourishment to the needy."

"Most regrettable Sir."

"I thought so. Still, I had a good meal," said Andrew between mouthfuls of breakfast. "Where's the parrot?"

"I gave him the nuts, as Sir requested, but he began to soil the furniture, so I placed him on the balcony."

"You mean the poor thing has spent the whole night outside?"

"Worse than that, I'm afraid, Sir. I returned to the balcony this morning, thinking that Sir would probably like to see the bird after breakfast, but alas it had apparently flown away."

"What!" cried Andrew leaping out of bed and knocking the breakfast to the floor. "He can't fly, you numskull!" he rushed out to the balcony, closely followed by Graham.

"Where did you put him?" said Andrew angrily.

"I perched him on the hand rail, Sir."

They both leant over the balcony and stared down to the swimming pool below. There floating, face down, in the middle of the pool was a small, soggy, green parrot.

"Fred!" gasped Andrew and then turning viciously toward Graham he yelled, "you killed him, you bastard!"

"Sir is understandably distraught, I was wholly unaware of the poor creature's inability to fly. I thought he would be happier in the company of his fellow parrots."

"But he wasn't a parrot, you murderer, I told you he wasn't, he could talk, he was my friend, my only friend," said Andrew, fighting back the tears. He turned from the edge went back inside the suite and slumped into a chair.

"If there is anything I can do? I am most dreadfully sorry," said Graham sincerely.

"Just get out and leave me alone," snapped Andrew sullenly.

"Please accept my condolences on your sad loss," said Graham as he hastily left the room.

Andrew realized that his outlook on life had been thoroughly inappropriate. His perception that it was a strange, but harmless, adventure had been built on his innate trust that the Adviser, or Fred, would not allow any real harm to come to him. Subconsciously he had felt invulnerable, protected. Yes, there had been times when he was very scared and times when he was very worried, but all the events had been so fantastic that they had a fuzzy unreal quality about them. Now he was alone, the fuzziness had gone, everything had a clear sharp edge. The situation was serious, perhaps even deadly. It was ironic that on the day he was due to sign up for everlasting life he should start to feel mortal again. Had Fred been killed deliberately? Was there some giant conspiracy of which he was an important part? He couldn't believe that he was anything more than an innocent pawn that had been swept inadvertently into the game. For all he knew it might all be perfectly natural; perhaps he had died, maybe this was heaven, or hell, or even purgatory. The possibilities were endless, and mostly ridiculous. He could think of nothing to do but carry on as he had been, continue his essentially passive role of just letting things happen to him.

He dressed and slowly made his way to the north side of the island and the office of Devil May Care Enterprises Limited. All the way there he could do nothing but picture himself enjoying an enormous dinner while a small helpless bird flapped its wings uselessly in the middle of a huge swimming pool.

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