Eye of the Storm by Mark Robson Page B

the screen and gave him a warm smile.
    ‘The middle will be fine,’ he said.
    ‘So that you get to sit next to Niamh wherever I sit,’ Carrie observed. ‘Sharp move, bro’. I like it.’
    ‘Carrie!’ Niamh warned, taking the middle seat. ‘It’s fine if he wants to sit next to me, because I happen to want to sit next to him.’
    Niamh could feel her face burning again at her declaration, but the smile Tony gave her made the feeling of embarrassment worthwhile. She took her place and began sipping at her orange juice,
hoping that the chilled drink would help to cool her flushed cheeks.
    ‘OK, I’ll stop my teasing. I assume that was Mom I heard leavin’ a little while back.’
    ‘Yeah, and Dad went to work just after seven.’
    ‘Thought so. Well, as you’re playin’ host, Tony, Niamh would like some toast, and I’ll have pancakes with maple syrup, please.’
    Tony’s eyebrows rose as his sister sat down to Niamh’s right, placed her hands on the breakfast bar and smiled at him.
    The computer gave out a popping sound that announced someone was sending a message on chat. Niamh ran her finger over the mouse mat and the screensaver disappeared, leaving the familiar format
of Niamh’s Facebook home page.
    ‘Wow! That was quick,’ she said, looking at the screen. ‘Beth must have sprinted.’
    In your dad’s office. You were saying about Tony…?! Need I ask if he’s hot?
    Niamh looked across the breakfast bar at Tony who was loading the toaster with bread.
    Yes, I think you would say so. I’m looking at him now.
    He’s there!Could be awkward.
    You’ve no idea! His sister Carrie is sitting next to me. She says she’ll find me a photo to send you later, but can you do something for me first?
    Sure.
    Open Word. Then click on Open Document.
    Done.
    There should be a folder called Devil’s Triangle or something similar.
    Got it.
    I need you to email me a copy of the folder to my hotmail address.
    Hasn’t your Dad got this with him on his laptop? I didn’t think he went anywhere without it.
    Dad’s not here right now and there’s something we need to find out.
    OK. Just a mo . . .
    There was a long pause, then another pop.
    Can’t attach it. There’s loads of sub-files and dozens of documents in each.
    Niamh groaned.
    ‘What’s the matter?’ Tony asked, moving around the breakfast bar so that he could see the screen. Niamh was glad that the earlier dialogue about him had scrolled off the top of
the window.
    ‘Beth can’t email the whole folder because it’s too big and it would probably take ages to attach each document individually.’
    ‘Use online storage then.’
    ‘What? How do I do that?’
    ‘There’s loads of websites who offer online storage that can be accessed from anywhere with an internet connection,’ he explained. ‘It’s simple: upload the file to
a site, access it from here, copy it on to our computer and delete the online copy. Job done.’
    ‘Why does technology have to be so . . . technical? It would have been so much easier if she could have just emailed it.’
    ‘I can do it for you,’ Tony offered. ‘How about I talk to your friend and you girls finish making breakfast?’
    Niamh nodded and dashed off a quick explanation to Beth.
    Handing over to Tony. He’s going to talk you through some online thingy that should mean you can send me the file.
    Cool!
    For the next few minutes the girls chatted and laughed as they heated Carrie’s pancakes, and Carrie tried to convince Niamh to try spreading both peanut butter and ‘jelly’ on
her toast. The girls bantered about the different cultural food clichés they associated with either side of the Atlantic, with Tony throwing in the occasional comment. All the while,
Tony’s fingers tapped away on the keyboard.
    ‘Got it!’ he announced suddenly.
    ‘Really?’ Niamh asked. ‘Brilliant! Thanks, Tony. Can I just have a quick chat with Beth before she goes.’
    ‘Sure.’
    Hi Beth – Niamh here again. Thanks