fingertips. She walked along the garden, still touching the surface. “There’s something about this place; it seems to be… I don’t know… it has a good feeling about it.”
“You mean it has a feeling of it being a ghostly bottomless money pit!” Leo squawked close in Greta’s ear, making her jump.
“Shut up!” Greta snapped and pushed Leo away with such force both he and Ardi, who was still holding Leo’s arm, lost their footing amongst lengthy brambles and ended up sprawled in the long, wet grass.
“Only joking! It’s true what they say though, isn’t it.” Leo helped Ardi to her feet and she hurriedly brushed her coat down to remove any grass strands and droplets of water. She roughly rearranged her hair. “The truth always hurts!”
“Come on, let’s get back to the pub, by the time wewalk back, the half hour will be up. Do you know what you ordered for pudding?” Max reached out and took Greta’s hand.
“I don’t think I ordered anything. No doubt mummy will have chosen something appropriate. A bit like your choice of the muffin intended for me on the ferry.”
Max laughed and they walked arm in arm back to the pub. Leo and Ardi trailed behind. Ardi looked around her in a birdlike fashion, adjusting her scarf around her neck.
“Greta is so lucky to have a husband like Max. He always tries to please her,” Ardi remarked as they walked.
“Isn’t she just,” Leo snapped. He kicked at a small stone along the lane. It tripped along the tarmac until it ended up on the unkempt grass verge.
“You don’t seem very impressed,” Ardi replied. She stopped and looked at Leo. “What’s wrong, Leo?”
Leo shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know. It always seems that what Greta wants, Greta gets. It’s always been the same, ever since we were kids.”
“So,” Ardi probed. “It would appear that you are a little… um… jealous of Greta?”
“No!” Leo was on the defensive.
“But you seem as though you are,” Ardi continued. “Is that why you always make fun of her?”
Leo sighed.
“All right, yes, okay! So I am jealous of her. She always gets her own way; even with our parents. She has always hogged the limelight. She always falls on her feet. I have to work for everything; I don’t get anything offered on a plate. Are you happy now?”
“No, course I’m not ‘appy. I am sad, if you are sad.” Ardi clung tightly to Leo’s arm. They were some distanceaway from Greta and Max, who had almost reached the Smuggler’s Hide.
“One day, you too will have some luck. I will make sure of it!” Ardi soothed.
“Come on, we are here now. Let’s enjoy our dessert! Forget about your worries!”
Jeanne hastily greeted them upon their return to the pub. Greta and Max were at the bar ordering coffee.
“Oh darlings! There you are. The father is so desperate to eat his dessert. He has been staring at it for the last ten minutes. Torture for him! Absolutely torturous! Here, sit down. Leo darling, I have ordered sticky toffee pudding, one dessert, two spoons, for you both. Maxim, I decided you were in the mood for biscuits and a selection of Island cheeses! And Greta, lemon meringue pie and clotted Island cream!” Jeanne distributed the appropriate plates to their intended recipients.
“Mummy, we have just come across a really lovely cottage. It’s the one over there!” Greta carried a tray of coffee and indicated with her head towards the window as her parents desperately tried to focus on where she meant. She placed the tray on their table and pointed and Jeanne gasped.
“Oh, yes, I see that little place. I can just make it out in the distance. Yes, it looks very quaint, doesn’t it?”
“Do you know who owns it?” Greta asked.
Her mother shook her head.
“Sorry darling, no, we haven’t got a clue, have we Charles? We don’t know much about this area of the Island. Perhaps we should…”
“If you’re talking about that place in the valley, I know who owns
“You mean it has a feeling of it being a ghostly bottomless money pit!” Leo squawked close in Greta’s ear, making her jump.
“Shut up!” Greta snapped and pushed Leo away with such force both he and Ardi, who was still holding Leo’s arm, lost their footing amongst lengthy brambles and ended up sprawled in the long, wet grass.
“Only joking! It’s true what they say though, isn’t it.” Leo helped Ardi to her feet and she hurriedly brushed her coat down to remove any grass strands and droplets of water. She roughly rearranged her hair. “The truth always hurts!”
“Come on, let’s get back to the pub, by the time wewalk back, the half hour will be up. Do you know what you ordered for pudding?” Max reached out and took Greta’s hand.
“I don’t think I ordered anything. No doubt mummy will have chosen something appropriate. A bit like your choice of the muffin intended for me on the ferry.”
Max laughed and they walked arm in arm back to the pub. Leo and Ardi trailed behind. Ardi looked around her in a birdlike fashion, adjusting her scarf around her neck.
“Greta is so lucky to have a husband like Max. He always tries to please her,” Ardi remarked as they walked.
“Isn’t she just,” Leo snapped. He kicked at a small stone along the lane. It tripped along the tarmac until it ended up on the unkempt grass verge.
“You don’t seem very impressed,” Ardi replied. She stopped and looked at Leo. “What’s wrong, Leo?”
Leo shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know. It always seems that what Greta wants, Greta gets. It’s always been the same, ever since we were kids.”
“So,” Ardi probed. “It would appear that you are a little… um… jealous of Greta?”
“No!” Leo was on the defensive.
“But you seem as though you are,” Ardi continued. “Is that why you always make fun of her?”
Leo sighed.
“All right, yes, okay! So I am jealous of her. She always gets her own way; even with our parents. She has always hogged the limelight. She always falls on her feet. I have to work for everything; I don’t get anything offered on a plate. Are you happy now?”
“No, course I’m not ‘appy. I am sad, if you are sad.” Ardi clung tightly to Leo’s arm. They were some distanceaway from Greta and Max, who had almost reached the Smuggler’s Hide.
“One day, you too will have some luck. I will make sure of it!” Ardi soothed.
“Come on, we are here now. Let’s enjoy our dessert! Forget about your worries!”
Jeanne hastily greeted them upon their return to the pub. Greta and Max were at the bar ordering coffee.
“Oh darlings! There you are. The father is so desperate to eat his dessert. He has been staring at it for the last ten minutes. Torture for him! Absolutely torturous! Here, sit down. Leo darling, I have ordered sticky toffee pudding, one dessert, two spoons, for you both. Maxim, I decided you were in the mood for biscuits and a selection of Island cheeses! And Greta, lemon meringue pie and clotted Island cream!” Jeanne distributed the appropriate plates to their intended recipients.
“Mummy, we have just come across a really lovely cottage. It’s the one over there!” Greta carried a tray of coffee and indicated with her head towards the window as her parents desperately tried to focus on where she meant. She placed the tray on their table and pointed and Jeanne gasped.
“Oh, yes, I see that little place. I can just make it out in the distance. Yes, it looks very quaint, doesn’t it?”
“Do you know who owns it?” Greta asked.
Her mother shook her head.
“Sorry darling, no, we haven’t got a clue, have we Charles? We don’t know much about this area of the Island. Perhaps we should…”
“If you’re talking about that place in the valley, I know who owns
Similar Books
The Cloud Atlas
David Mitchell
Blaze of Winter: A Loveswept Contemporary Romance
Elisabeth Barrett
The House on Tradd Street
Karen White
Lilac Mines
Cheryl Klein
Discipline of the Private House
Esme Ombreux
Driftwood Summer
Patti Callahan Henry
The Watchers
Mark Andrew Olsen
Eight Days of Luke
Diana Wynne Jones
Henry VIII's Health in a Nutshell
Kyra Cornelius Kramer
The Christmas Throwaway
RJ Scott