[CLATTER. On the floor, the feed turns on. It’s a kitchen floor, a shiny black shoe … and now the face of Sebastian, who just dropped it. He’s usually more careful, but the Blackberry he rarely uses can be bulky in the pocket of his waist coat.
He picks it up and turns it over, searching for the Off button - well. At least he thinks it’s recording. There’s a quick pan of the kitchen, where evidence shows he has been busy baking, and stops for a few seconds. On the counter, there’s a scrumptious-looking
birthday cake.]
Oh dear. I hope this doesn’t ruin the surprise.
[The surprise that it’s clearly some grumpy, eye-patched earl's fourteenth birthday? SURELY NOT.
The feed shakes and then goes black.]