if it hadn’t meant wasting a wish. As far as he was concerned, it was awful — dark, dingy and the woman wasn’t even beautiful! What people saw to rave about, he just couldn’t imagine.
His father raised his eyebrows as Lewis appeared in his tracksuit at the breakfast table. He was pleasantly surprised.
“Going jogging, Lewis?”
Resisting the temptation to say “No, I’m going to swim across the Forth,” Lewis grunted as he helped himself to toast and marmalade. Shocked at his bad manners, Casimir said hastily, “I thought I’d run round Arthur’s Seat. Lots of people do it and it’s good training!”
His mother nodded approvingly as she buttered a piece of toast. “Bit chilly to go jogging, isn’t it?” she remarked. “Mind and wrap up well!”
“Arthur’s Seat!” his father said, looking at him with respect as he put his cup in its saucer and pushed it to one side. “Well done, Lewis. I’m glad to see that you’re keeping fit.” His eyes twinkled. “Planning to get in the school rugby team are you?”
As he was as thin as a rake, this was obviously the kind of grown-up joke that adults found funny. Lewis, furious that Casimir had butted into the conversation, was about to mutter something unintelligible when he caught his father’s eye. Whether it was because Casimir was inside him, making him more perceptive than usual, he didn’t know, but he suddenly felt the weight of his father’s responsibilities. He bent his head over his plate as it dawned on him that being an adult and holding down a tough job wasn’t all that much fun.
“Come off it, Dad!” he muttered, taking charge of the conversation . “Do I really look like a rugby player?” Then he added with a touch of shyness. “I might go in for athletics, though.”
His father looked at him thoughtfully. “You’d probably do well in athletics,” he nodded. “You’ve the build of a runner. Well,” he said, folding his paper and laying it on his plate, “if you’re set on jogging round the park would you like me to give you a lift? I’ve a meeting there this morning.”
“In the park?” Lewis’s mother looked surprised.
“Close by. An old school chum owns a distillery there, down by the palace. He’s putting on a pantomime for Children’s Aid and I’ve managed to persuade the company to make quite a sizeable donation.”
“Free tickets then?” grinned Lewis, suddenly interested. “Which one are they putting on?”
“
Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves
. Actually, I don’t know how you feel about pantomimes now that you’re older but I’ve a mind to see it. He’s managed to get that new comedian, Matt Lafferty, to star in it.”
“Sounds great,” Lewis agreed. “And Mum would enjoy it, too,” he added hastily, before Casimir could butt in. “I know that Gran’s on the mend but Mum really needs cheering up, don’t you, Mum?” He grinned across the table at his mother who looked quite touched.
Robert Grant looked at his son in surprise. “It’s nice of you to be so concerned, Lewis. We’ve been through a worrying time lately and quite frankly I think the panto would do us all good.”
At that moment, Mrs Sinclair came in to clear the breakfast table and as his father got to his feet, Lewis picked up the morning paper, for the words “
Mona Lisa
” had caught his eye. He unfolded the paper and stared at it in horror. The headlines in
The Scotsman
screamed at him from across the front page. “Mystery of the Missing
Mona Lisa
,” “Theft at the Louvre,” “
Mona Lisa
Vanishes!” He gulped as he followed his father out to the car. Just wait until he got Casimir on his own! Just wait!
Casimir, however, had no sympathy for him. “What did you expect?” he snapped. “You wished for the
Mona Lisa
and I gave it to you. What more do you want?”
Lewis, by then, was jogging along the side of Dunsapie Loch, high in Arthur’s Seat. “I didn’t mean you to
steal
it!” he said, looking into