‘Yes. So that's what'll do. We'll find an internet café, and set ourselves up as traders. We'll buy some stocks this morning and sell them at the end of the day. If we pick our stocks carefully, we'll make a profit.’
‘A profit, eh? What's a profit?’ asked Creamy, fighting to keep his eyes open.
‘A profit is what you make when you spend a certain amount of money buying something, and sell it for more; the difference is the profit; and we …’
‘OK, OK! Tell me more later,’ mumbled Creamy drowsily.
‘Not later; I'm telling you now, so listen up! We have lots to decide on. For a start, we need to think of a name for our portfolio of stocks.
‘Interesting, interesting,’ mumbled Creamy.
‘The Monk told me he had come across some funny names in his time. There was one called Ladies Who Lunch.’
Creamy opened his eyes. ‘But we're not Ladies, Lennie, though of course we do lunch. In fact it's about time to…’
‘When you think of it,’ went on Lennie ignoring Creamy's hint, ‘it could be a good name to use. I mean people would never guess it was just a couple of dogs trading, would they.’
‘Yeeees, there's that. Ladies Who Lunch – interesting,’ murmured Creamy.
‘It's no good mumbling ‘interesting, interesting’ now and then. You've got to listen properly and … wow! Look at this!’ exclaimed Lennie poking Creamy in the side.
Creamy sat up and they both stared as a large gold stretch limousine glided by them. Suddenly, there was a sound of brakes and the limousine began reversing. In another moment, it came to a stop right in front of them. A window rolled slowly down and two paws, covered in jewels popped out. Then, out of the shadows inside the back of the car, a face slowly emerged, and a pair of green eyes stared down at them.
‘Hello, boys! I thought you'd drowned!’
Creamy and Lennie stared back. ‘Satie! What are you doing here?’
‘Just passing; been shopping, as a matter of fact. Do you like my new car?’
‘You mean the Captain's new car,’ said Lennie.
‘The Captain's? I have long swapped the Captain for the Princess. I am now with Princess Isabella. The Princess was a passenger on the ship and I kindly agreed to become her companion.’
Creamy laughed. ‘Next thing you'll be telling us you own this car, like you said you owned the ship!’
‘I own several cars; and a driver, too.’
Creamy snorted. ‘Yes, and I suppose you own the Princess , too.’
‘As a matter of fact … but enough of me. What are you two doing hanging around a bus shelter. Gone down in the world, I suppose, having to use public transport?
‘Actually, we're just having a chat if you want to know. Discussing our next venture. Into trading online and so on,’ said Lennie.
‘Really? Ah, well, each to his own, I suppose. I'm off to the palace now. Where are you heading?’
‘An Internet café,’ said Lennie.
‘Shall I give you a lift?’
Lennie looked at Creamy, his eyes round, taking in every detail of the shiny limousine. He loved cars – the bigger the better.
‘OK. If it's no problem…’
‘No problem at all,’ purred Satie. ‘Driver! Find us an Internet Café.’
Creamy and Lennie climbed in. In another instant, the limousine was gliding along again.