Creamy snatched it and stuffed it back under his head. ‘Now, what do you want?’ he asked snuggling down again.
Lennie said nothing. He was staring at the porthole above Creamy's head, his eyes caught by the sight of small figures flashing past. There was a faint sound of footsteps thudding along the deck as they ran, and then silence.
Lennie turned round, and hurried to the door. He peered up and down the passage. It was empty; all was still.
‘That's odd,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Why didn't they come here? I thought we were all supposed to meet here.’ He frowned and turned to Creamy. ‘Creamy?’
Creamy just grunted and pulled the cushion over his head.
Lennie threw his paws up in the air. Then he crossed them on his chest, and staring at Creamy sprawling amidst the cushions, he sighed.
It was a long, deep sigh, and as the air rushed into his nose, his body suddenly went rigid. Nose twitching, neck stretched out, he stood completely still, sniffing.
There it was again: the aroma of food wafting towards him; it seemed to be coming from the far side of the room.
Lennie's mouth began to water; then all at once, he moved. Nose high in the air drawing the scent in, he padded slowly along towards the far wall of the lounge, following the scent.
A large white cloth lay spread across a row of low tables lining the wall. Lennie bent over it, sniffing hard. Then he sank his teeth into the end of the tablecloth, and pulled till it fell to the floor.
Lennie caught his breath; his eyes swept in wonder over tables piled with food from end to end: there were little sausages on sticks, ham and fish on tiny biscuits; pieces of chicken on huge platters; fragrant meat on the bone…
Lennie threw his head back and yelled: ‘Creamy, come here! Come see all this food!’
‘FOOD?!’ cried Creamy, suddenly no longer sleepy. The magic word worked like a starting gun, catapulting him out of the sofa and onto the floor. He picked himself up and ran towards Lennie as fast as his legs could carry him.