August 20th, 1990

August 20th, 1990
Caracas, Venezuela

“Morning Madison,” Millie chirped, when she rang first thing this morning.
“Hello,” I replied, my tone curt.
“Fancy some tea and toast?”
“Not really.”
“Oh, come on,” she said. “We always have tea and toast together. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

She barged into my room, smiling widely and made a beeline for the balcony.
“We can have it out here,” she said, swinging open the doors.
“It’s too hot out there,” I said, closing them. “Besides, I don’t want blotchy skin and straw hair.”
“You’re not still on that, are you?”
“Seems I am. Speaking of, what do you have to say about your behaviour yesterday?”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
She sighed. “I think the heat was getting to me.”
“That’s your excuse?”
“I just said I’m sorry, didn’t I?”
“I don’t know Millie, sometimes I don’t understand the way you act. It’s confusing.”
“I don’t like Roberto,” she blurted.
“That’s pretty obvious.”
“Why do you like him so much?”
“He’s a really nice guy.”
“He’s fake.”
“Well that’s your opinion and I just happen to disagree with it.”
“I don’t like guys like him, he’s just so…”
“Fine!” I yelled. “That’s fine, nobody’s forcing you to like him.”
“I just don’t…”
“Enough. Seriously Millie,” I said, throwing my hands up in surrender. “That’s enough.”
“Ok,” she smiled. “Let’s invite Dolly for tea and toast then we’ll go to the pool. OK?”

The rest of the day passed without incident and we had fun by the pool making the final arrangements for our trip to the jungle. Nigel, our purser, is coming with us and I’m going to suggest he bring a cricket bat, just in case the heat starts getting to Millie!

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