Alfred shook his head with a weary sigh. "Wish I knew," he said, nodding towards the owls once again. Of course, he had an idea, but not the specifics. He didn't mind telling Pablo, but he didn't know where to start. With the letter he'd received this morning? With the luncheon? With meeting Jo a year ago?

At that moment, an owl fluttered in through the large back window, swooped towards them, and dropped a letter at Alfred's feet. He bent to retrieve it eagerly and picked it up, but almost immediately on opening it the color drained from his cheeks.

"Oh, bollocks," he mumbled under his breath.