Breakfast or lunch?

It was Sunday. I never get up early on Sundays. I sometimes stay in bed until lunchtime. Last Sunday I got up very late.

I looked out of the window. It was dark outside. What a day I thought. It's raining again.

Just then the telephone rang. It was my aunt Lucy. I've just arrived by train. She said, I'm coming to see you.

But I'm still having breakfast, I said. What are you doing? She asked. I'm having breakfast, I repeated.

Dear me, she said. Do you always get up so late? It's one o'clock.