Theo’s pulse lurched. ‘You’ve seen her?’
‘Not so sure about that,’ he said, as he handed the photo back. ‘She looks a bit like a waitress I saw working in the café, except her hair’s a different colour, and I’m pretty sure her name wasn’t Erin.’ He shrugged, handing the photo back. ‘Then again, all these young people look alike these days, don’t they?’
Theo thanked him as he took it back, not entirely defeated. He’d check out the café, of course, but he hadn’t expected finding her would be that easy, even on an island the size of a postage stamp. Besides, the Princess was hardly waitress material. She’d been surrounded by staff eager to do her every bidding ever since the day she was born. She’d never worked a real job a day in her life. No, more likely he’d find her lounging on a beach making herself comfortable somewhere.
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Tom said, ‘but I thought I’d give you a brief tour of the island before I drop you at the lodge. Help you get your bearings.’
Theo suppressed his irritation. Now that he was here, all Theo wanted to do was to get to work as soon as possible. He wasn’t a tourist. He didn’t need a tour. He just needed to find the Princess—before someone else did.
The car set off slowly—painfully slowly it seemed, but apparently that was the speed limit here—along the road bordering the runway that bisected the island, the driver still talking, pointing out the bowling club, the hospital, the dive school, while Theo only half listened, more interested in searching the faces of the cyclists they passed going the other way, looking for a familiar feature. Until he heard something that made him prick up his ears and swivel his head.
‘Wait, wait. What did you say?’ he asked.
‘About the waitress the other night, you mean?’
Theo nodded.
‘Well, she was getting a right dressing-down from the chef about being too slow and having to lift her game, poor girl. I thought she was about to burst into tears at one stage.’
Theo’s ears pricked up. He spun his head back, more interested now. ‘What girl?’
‘The girl in the café. The one I mentioned before.’
Theo didn’t expect to find his runaway princess employed and working. But if she was—and turned out to be a no-good waitress—what were the chances?
‘But her name wasn’t Erin, this girl in the café?’
‘No, that doesn’t ring a bell at all, but I can’t help thinking she looked a bit like that girl in the picture you showed me.’ He shrugged as they turned right up a hill, buildings set either side, a general store and some kind of town hall. ‘Then again, it’s a few days back now.’ He nodded to the side as they passed a café. ‘That’s where I saw her, whoever she was. But I’d remember it if her name was Erin. Struck me at the time that it rhymed with something, except I can’t remember what it was now.’ He chortled. ‘Not to worry, it’ll come to me, sure as eggs.’
The hairs on the back of Theo’s neck prickled and he had to resist the urge to yell at Tom to stop so he could jump from the car and check for himself. Could it be her? But what would a spoiled princess know about waitressing? Up until now, she hadn’t stayed in one spot long enough to find work.
But he said nothing. There was no need to alarm Tom that there was more to his story than what he’d made out, especially if there was no guarantee it was her. Equally, there was no need to rush. If it was her, and the Princess was so confident that her little scheme to slip her pursuers had succeeded and that she could afford to stop a while and put down some roots, then she wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.
Meanwhile he’d book for dinner tonight at the café and check it out for himself.
They left the café behind, the road rising towards a turn-off that signalled Ned’s Beach, where Tom mentioned that he could feed the fish for a nominal sum. ‘Got any idea what activities you’d like to try your hand at while you’re here?’ Tom asked. ‘We’ve got diving or snorkelling on the coral reef, or there’s game fishing out near Ball’s Pyramid. Lizzie, our manager, can book you into anything you feel like.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Theo lied, knowing there’d be no time to play the tourist. His job was to find the Princess and get her home.
‘Of course, that’s it!’ said Tom slapping his knee beside him. ‘I don’t know why it’s taken so long to remember; it rhymes with Lizzie of course.’
‘What does?’
‘The name of the girl in the café. I knew it would come to me. The chef called her Izzy.’
Izzy?
Isabella.
And Theo wanted to punch his fist in the air with victory.
He had her.
CHAPTER THREE
THE RESTAURANT WASbuzzing when Izzy turned up for the dinner shift.
‘Thank god you’re here,’ one of her colleagues said as she rushed past with her arms full of dirty dishes. ‘It’s going to be mental.’
