Honor sighed. ‘Shame. I’ve had a bad day and I wouldn’t have minded trying that pressing the button thing. Were they talking to you about a job, Ru?’
The muttering crowd began to disperse as he hid his eyes behind his hair. ‘They said they could get me work in Brighton. I hate working for Mum.’
‘Is it really that bad? It gives you a little money in your pocket.’
Ru stopped hiding with a flick of his head and an incredulous laugh. ‘It doesn’t.’
Honor paused. ‘It doesn’t?’
‘Mum doesn’t pay me. That’s why I hate it. It’s slave labour.’
‘I guess it is,’ she said, slowly. ‘She doesn’t pay you a cent?’
‘Not a cent, not a penny. Not as a wage. She’ll give me money for a particular thing, if she feels like it. But she doesn’t often feel like it.’
‘Oh.’ Honor looked into the eyes that were both wary and trusting. ‘Well, I hate to break it to you but those guys, they aren’t on the level, either. They specialise in getting work for people who want work but there’s some reason that finding it is difficult. Foreigners like me and, I guess, young kids like you. They don’t pay the going rate and I’m pretty sure they don’t pay taxes or any of those tiresome things. It’s not legit. They’re bad news.’
Ru’s lips set. ‘But they would pay me something. Which is better than nothing.’
‘Yeah.’ Honor nodded. ‘But they could get you in a whole lot of trouble. Maybe we can figure something out. Something better. How about you come with me and we talk about it?’
‘S’pose.’ Digging his hands into his pockets, Rufus allowed himself to be shepherded back through the crowd, shuffling disconsolate feet up the corridor and down the stairs, collecting polite goodnights from the doormen.
‘OK,’ said Honor, as soon as she’d somehow clambered back up into the X5 — taking the mules off first, which turned out to be helpful. Turning to face Ru in the back seat, she could watch his deeply shadowed expressions in the half light. ‘Will you work at the Teapot if I make her pay you?’
Ru stilled. ‘Yeah,’ he conceded, suspiciously. ‘But I bet you can’t make her.’
Honor smiled. ‘Bet I can. She wants to go to that Global Gathering thing, right? I’m going to make her an offer she can’t refuse.’
From the driver’s seat, Martyn groaned as he started the BMW up. ‘Fantastic. She’s going to try and reason with Robina.’
* * *
Martyn hadn’t been able to talk her out of it. Half-an-hour later, having struggled once more out of his car after he’d parked it behind the Starboard Walk shops, Honor was seated on an iridescent green-and-purple, crushed-velvet beanbag in Robina’s lounge.
The whole place — two storeys over the Eastingdean Teapot — was like some old hippy hang out. Web and feather dreamcatchers hung in doorways, crystals stood where they’d catch the light, posters covered entire walls and the ceiling was painted dark purple. Jos sticks burned on the mantel and fat white candles lit a room devoid of TV or any furniture that had legs. Surreal.
Even though sitting elegantly on a beanbag in a micro skirt was no easier than climbing in and out of the X5, Honor didn’t feel disadvantaged by her station because Sophie, Robina and Ru were each flopped on beanbags of their own.
Kirsty lay on a futon. On the floor beside her were a couple of crackers on a plate, one nibbled. Honor, dismayed, spoke to her first. ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you, Kirsty, or tire you out.’ How on earth had Robina hardened her heart sufficiently to ask this shrunken wreck of a female to drag herself into the Teapot to work for even an hour, let alone an entire weekend, so that Robina could go off and enjoy herself?
Kirsty’s skin stretched tight around her smile. Her eyes were sunk into circular black shadows. ‘Nice to see a new face. Newish, anyway.’
‘So,’ interrupted Robina, ‘what’s Ru been up to? And why are you done up like a doll?’
Honor was shaken to realise just how chilly she felt towards Robina. When she’d first arrived at the Teapot she’d considered her quirky and fun, and anticipated that Sophie was the one who would irritate the hell out of her. Instead, Sophie had turned out to be a warm-hearted, hard worker, who just happened to hero worship her best friend, warts-and-all, though occasionally was prepared to stand up to Robina if Robina was being extra warty.
Stef was self-absorbed but Robina had him beaten, hands down.
Honor hid her thoughts behind a smile. ‘Ru and I, we’ve just been having a little chat and we’ve come up with a way that will mean you can go to the Global Gathering.’
‘Fantastic! How?’ In an instant, Robina was as shiny-eyed as a kid who had just discovered Santa Claus.
Honor put up a restraining hand. ‘Whoa! There’s a deal involved. So don’t go agreeing to anything until you’ve heard it. OK,’ she began. ‘Like any other teenager, Ru doesn’t just need a job — he needs to be paid for doing it.’
Robina shrugged. ‘But he’s family.’
‘So what? It’s not written in stone that you have to be mean to your family.’
