The Curiosity Machine by Richard Newsome

your girlfriend. And I know I am so lucky to be able to count myself as a very special friend.’ Ruby leaned forward and kissed Gerald on the cheek.
    Gerald didn’t move. He blinked. Twice. ‘Um,’ he said, ‘so, do you still want to see a movie tonight?’
    â€˜Sure,’ Ruby said. She opened her book and looked down at the page. ‘Sounds fun.’
    â€˜Okay then.’ He stared at the carpet under his feet. ‘I’ll see you later.’
    Ruby flashed him a smile. ‘Sure. See you.’
    Gerald scooped up his towel and turned to leave. Ruby lowered her book. ‘See, Gerald?’ she said. ‘It’sgood to talk these things through.’
    Gerald nodded and wandered back towards the pool deck, his brain whirring. Had Ruby just agreed to be his girlfriend? Or the exact opposite? He had no clue. But Gerald would happily do battle with every sword-wielding ninja on Sir Mason Green’s payroll rather than go through that experience again.

Chapter 5
    Gerald fluffed the goose feather pillows, moulding a cloud of comfort behind his head. He rolled onto his back and fished the television remote from the bedclothes, taking care not to upend the steaming basket of potato wedges at his side. There were countless benefits to being a boy billionaire, but Gerald could think of few better than fresh-cooked midnight snacks delivered to your bedside.
    It had been a hectic day. The Archer was powering into the night through calm seas that caressed the ship into a gentle roll, as if being rocked in a cradle. After a soak in a fragrant bath and a dinner of fresh-caught mahi mahi and chips, topped off by a mountain of mango sorbet and a scoop of avocado ice cream on a dare fromSam (which was a mistake), Gerald should have been battling to keep his eyes open. But he was wide awake.
    Usually on the night before his birthday, Gerald would wish himself to sleep. The sooner he was snoring, the sooner he would wake to find the foot of his bed piled with presents. But this was his first birthday since inheriting his great aunt’s colossal fortune. Somehow the buzz had gone out of his pre-present anticipation. Where was the thrill in guessing what you would get when you already had everything?
    Gerald stuffed a potato wedge into his mouth and flicked on the television. The screen shimmered to life. He shifted back into his nest of pillows and sighed. He was sure the party his mother had arranged for him would be fun, and any time spent with Sam, Ruby and Felicity was always an adventure, but somehow something was missing.
    Gerald pressed the channel button. The news in Spanish. Apparently something of incredible interest had happened in the parliament in Madrid. Apparently.
    Click. A Japanese game show. A contestant was having a bucket of writhing snakes poured over his head. Ho-hum.
    Click. Three men riding unicycles on a stage while throwing chainsaws and kittens at each other. Gerald could only assume it was Uzbekistan’s Got Talent . Yawn.
    Gerald knew he had nothing to complain about—he reached across and poured himself a glass of cola fromthe ice bucket that Ella had put by his bed, and scoffed down another potato wedge coated with sweet chilli sauce and sour cream. With untold wealth, had the fun actually gone out of his life? He shoved in another potato wedge and belched. How could that be?
    Click. A documentary about drilling for oil in Kazakhstan. Boring .
    Click. An infomercial about tinted contact lenses. Eye-glazing .
    Click. Horse racing in Hong Kong. Lame .
    Click. A German celebrity had posted a photograph of his bottom on the internet. Gross .
    Click. A travel show at a tropical resort, with a beachside swimming pool at night surrounded by palm trees sprinkled with fairy lights. A gentle breeze disturbed the fronds as the show’s presenter settled into a wicker chair and stared into the camera. Gerald had his thumb on the channel button, but paused. The presenter