Page 10 of An Ill Wind in Seabury
Lionel shook his head.
‘Well,’ said George with a shrug, ‘no doubt we’ll find out what she’s in town for sooner or later.’
‘Either that, or the occupant of room thirteen will just disappear tomorrow morning, never to darken our doors again,’ said Lionel, looking hopeful.
‘Bit of a shame if she disappears before she feels a bit better, don’t you think?’ said George. ‘Like you said, Seabury’s a pretty special place. Mind you, I guess it might take a bit more than a single night for it to work its magic!’
Lionel shrugged. ‘Can’t save ‘em all, Georgie boy… can’t save ‘em all.’
CHAPTER 5
GEORGE
Grabbing a bundle of post from his van, George hurried towards The Sardine. He was feeling out of sorts again… all shook up and weirdly nervous. He still couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason for this strange anomaly. Maybe it was simply the presence of one clearly unhappy soul in their little town. Or perhaps the name Claudia had managed to stir up a bunch of old memories. Sure, most of them had been good memories, but hehadended up with a broken heart.
Taking a deep breath and willing himself not to be daft, George pushed his way inside the little café. He was instantly wrapped in a cloud of delicious cinnamon and apple scent, and his mouth started to water on command.
‘George! I was hoping we’d see you this morning.’
Kate was wearing her customary warm smile, and George breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t look like his friend was suffering any lasting effects from that morning’s run-in with their grumpy visitor.
‘Here you go,’ he said, handing over the stack of mail. ‘Expecting something good?’
Kate laughed and shook her head. ‘Just bills. Anyway, I wasn’t talking about the post.’
‘Oh?’ said George. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Ethel’s just dropped off a couple of massive apple pies,’ said Kate, ‘and you’re my favourite taste-tester. Can I tempt you with a slice and some cream?’
George’s stomach growled in answer, but he shook his head firmly. ‘No. Thank you, though.’
‘It doesn’t have to be cream,’ said Kate. ‘I can do custard instead? Or ice cream?’
Shaking his head for a secondanda third time felt a whole lot harder than the first. George took an involuntary step backwards, as though it might help to put a little more distance between himself and temptation.
This was the only problem with Seabury—there were sweet treats on offer around every corner. It was exactly why he’d taken up running in the first place. Now that he’d managed to squeeze back into the smaller end of his wardrobe, he was determined to stick to his guns and keep his sweet tooth in check.
‘I’m fine. Thank you, though,’ said George, with what felt like Herculean effort. ‘I’ve got pasta salad for lunch and some fruit for pudding, so I’m all set.’
‘Wow!’ said Kate, her eyes wide. ‘What have you done with George Slatter, Cake Fiend Extraordinaire?!’
‘Oh, he’s still here,’ laughed George. ‘Just… under better control than usual!’
‘Well, I have to say I’m impressed,’ said Kate. ‘And you look great, by the way. I take it you’re still running?’
George nodded. ‘Got up at five this morning and ran to Dunscombe and back before work.’
Kate shook her head in wonder. ‘If I’d told you you’d be doing that back at the start of the year, you’d never have believed you could do it.’
‘Well, I blame you and Ethel… and Sarah when she’s in town. Oh, and Hattie too. This place is very bad for the waistline these days! I had to do something before I needed a whole new wardrobe to accommodate my Seabury-cake-tyre. Anyway, enough of my waistline…’ he said, doing his best not to make eye contact with the large, gooey chocolate cake sitting on one of the stands on the counter. ‘I heard you had a bit of an unwelcome visitor this morning?’
‘I wouldn’t say unwelcome,’ said Kate. ‘No paying customer isreallyunwelcome. But I’ve certainly had a difficult customer this morning.’
‘Yeah, I think she’s on some kind of mission to annoy as many locals as possible,’ said George. ‘That’s if we’re talking about the same person.’
‘Posh-looking, heels, gorgeous sweater… expensive hair that could probably handle a force-nine gale?’ said Kate. ‘Oh—and a bad attitude.’
‘Sounds like the descriptions I’ve had so far!’ said George.
