‘Is that what she is? A girlfriend?’ She heard Marika’s scornful response, her eyes narrowing as she continued to watch the couple.
‘Yes. I believe her name is Chantelle.’ Hanna smiled. ‘She’s very beautiful, don’t you think?’
‘If you like thin women with colourless hair.’ Marika sniffed, turning her attention back to clearing away.
‘Well, he seems to.’ Hanna nodded to where Jordan had now wrapped his arm around Chantelle. He was whispering in her ear and through the open window both girls heard her laughter.
‘For now.’ Marika turned to look at her, wearing that infuriatingly smug smile Hanna and the others had grown to detest. ‘Maybe I can make him change his mind.’
‘What?’ Hanna stifled a laugh. ‘You think you stand a chance with him? He’s rich, Marika. He lives in a different world to you and me. We don’t belong there and anyway he’s—’
Marika held up a hand to stop her. ‘Back home I lived in his world. We had servants, a beautiful home …’
Hanna resisted the impulse to roll her eyes as Marika wheeled out her familiar tale of wealth and privilege once more. She seemed to enjoy setting herself apart, indicating she was better than the rest of the waitressing team. She drew in an exasperated breath as Marika continued.
‘This Jordan Hunter. I tell you he will be mine soon.’
‘You are crazy.’ Hanna shook her head and walked back to begin stripping the cloth from another table. ‘You and him … impossible,’ she laughed.
Marika watched her for a moment then returned to loading her tray with crockery and cutlery. ‘You can laugh,’ Hanna heard her say, ‘you can all laugh, but soon I am telling you I will be the one with the smile on my face.’
‘Do you know where Dad is?’
Cat looked up to see her brother hovering in the doorway of her office. She didn’t like the expression on his face. It was clear something was very wrong.
‘He’s gone out. Said he had something to pick up in Truro. Why?’
‘I’ve just come from the kitchen. Isaac the fish delivery man was there. He says there’s a protest going on outside the mini-market in the High Street.’
‘A protest?’ Cat frowned. ‘What sort of protest?’
‘He wasn’t sure. Something about an elderly woman being escorted off the premises with a warning not to return.’
‘Shoplifting, maybe?’
‘No, I don’t think so.’ Nathan shook his head. ‘The protesters are her three friends. Sound familiar to you?’
‘Oh no not again.’ Cat groaned. Since Aunt Em’s ban from the hotel her little band of women had been driving Carrenporth businesses mad. First they went on a temperance mission, haranguing fishermen emerging from The Smugglers at lunchtime and warning them about the dangers of demon drink. Then they called into one of the galleries and draped a cloth over the statue of a naked woman, Rosalind pronouncing it depraved and disgusting. Following that they hit the local garden centre, protesting about cruelty to fish and demanding they close the aquatics section there. It appeared no one was safe from this bunch of marauding women.
At first the locals treated them as mildly amusing eccentrics; bored elderly ladies with nothing better to do. But as time progressed their antics became more extreme, disrupting businesses and causing chaos. ‘It can’t go on,’ she said, ‘pretty soon someone is going to call the police.’
‘Or some journalist will get wind of it and come to investigate,’ Nathan offered, ‘and before you know it they’ll be allover the tabloids. We need to put a stop to this once and for all before Dad gets involved. What has got into Em?’
‘I guess she’s bored. And she’s hoping her behaviour will embarrass Dad enough to get him to let her back into the hotel. So he can keep an eye on her.’
‘She’s crazy if she thinks that’s going to happen,’ Nathan said crossly. ‘You know I’m sure he plans to forgive her but not as long as she has that group of old harridans tagging along. She needs to break away from them. Then he might consider it.’
‘We need to tell her that then. Try and channel her energies in a more positive direction.’
‘Doing what exactly?’
‘I don’t know. Helping out at the local library, maybe. She loves books.’
‘I don’t think that would work. She’d have to be quiet for a start and you know how Em loves to chat.’
‘What about the museum? I heard Adrian Tregorran was looking for some help. Do you think she’d be interested?’
‘We’ll talk about it in the car.’
