Page 8 of An Ill Wind in Seabury
George promptly craned his neck to take a peep. Sure enough, he could just make out someone wearing a seriously pointy pair of heels wobbling their way up the stairs, pulling a bright pink suitcase behind them.
‘Is she still there?’ muttered Lionel, looking like he’d make a break for it if there was any chance this guest might reappear.
‘Almost gone,’ said George.
This was bizarre. Lionel was one of the kindest, most easy-going people he’d ever met. Nothing was too much trouble for him when it came to looking after his guests. Which must mean that this new arrival was a?—
‘Total nightmare!’ huffed Lionel, with a gusty sigh. ‘The minute she walked through those doors, it was like she was spoiling for a fight.’
‘About what?’ said George.
‘Everything,’ tutted Lionel. ‘How hard it is to find Seabury, how difficult it is to find somewhere to park. How small and depressing it is.’
‘What?’ gasped George. ‘How could anyone think that? Seabury’s the opposite of depressing! I mean… yes, it’s small…but that means it’s charming and unspoiled and friendly… well, for the most part!’
Hattie snorted, and even Lionel managed to stop glowering long enough to crack a smile.
‘Wait,’ said George, ‘I don’t suppose she’s driving one of those great big SUV things, is she? A shiny black beast that looks like it cost more than my house?’
‘No idea,’ Lionel shrugged. ‘Whatever she’s driving, I’ve got a sneaking suspicion she’s left it somewhere daft, the way she was chuntering on about unfriendly locals.’
George raised an eyebrow. Ithadto be the same woman, didn’t it? He racked his brain for the description Jess had given him.
‘Was she kind of… well-groomed?’
Hattie nodded. ‘Enough hairspray there to act as a wind break for the entire town!’
‘In that case, I think we’ve already met,’ said George. ‘Or I’ve met the trail of destruction she’s left in her wake, if not the woman behind it.’
‘What trail of destruction?’ said Hattie.
‘For starters, she parked across the gates to the allotments,’ said George.
‘Oh dear, I can’t imagine Charlie’s too happy about that,’ said Lionel, sitting up at last.
‘Not particularly, no,’ said George. ‘That’s not all, though. She turned up at Hillside Farm and did her best to take out Jess’s chickens while she was there!’
‘Nooo!’ Hattie clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Are the girls okay?!’
‘Fine,’ laughed George. ‘In fact, that box there is full of their finest offerings. Jess asked me to bring them down for you.’
‘You’re an angel!’ said Hattie, beaming at him. ‘You know… why you two aren’t together is beyond me.’
‘Don’tyoustart!’ tutted George. ‘I get enough of that nonsense from Doris.’
‘I’m just saying,’ said Hattie, wiggling her eyebrows. ‘She’s cute and single… and you’re cute and single…’
‘Leave the poor lad alone,’ chuckled Lionel. ‘Otherwise, you’ll have to start fetching your own eggs.’
‘Good point!’ laughed Hattie. ‘Thanks for bringing them down. I’ve got cake to make and puddings to sort out for this evening, and the pressure is on. They have to be perfect, because Miss Stroppy Knickers booked herself in before flouncing off upstairs.’
‘Good luck!’ said George, as Hattie hefted the box of eggs into her arms and pottered off towards the kitchen.
‘So, how long’s your new guest staying?’ said George, noticing that Lionel was still looking rather morose.
‘I have no idea,’ said Lionel. ‘She’s a walk-in, not that you’d believe it.’
‘How’d you mean?’ said George.
