The Royal Town Crier paced nervously up and down the squeaky floorboards in Norris’ shack and mopped his brow.
‘I know it’s a lot to ask, Sir,’ he said, ‘But no-one else came forward! I don’t know what I’ll do if I go back without a name!’
Norris swilled his drink round in his mug and looked down at Nesta who was cleaning out the fire.
‘Waaaaaaarl, I don’t know…’ he said, ‘to be honest, I’m quite fond of this one.’
The Royal Town Crier whimpered.
‘It’s all right dad,’ said Nesta, ‘I don’t mind. I’ll do it.’ The Royal Town Crier heaved a sigh of relief and took out his quill and ink. Nesta stood up and wiped her hands on her apron.
‘I’ll go and tell Gran,’ she said.