Laura Marlin Mysteries 1: Dead Man's Cove eBook Read Online Free PDF Page A

‘Does it matter?’

    ‘Matter of fact it does. It’s against our policy to serve kids on their own.’

    ‘Why?’

    Erin put her pad back in her pocket. ‘Just is.’

    ‘Look, I have money.’ Laura put the twenty-pound note on the table. ‘I can even pay you in advance if you’re worried I might run off or something.’

    The couple at the next table stared disapprovingly at the money, as though they doubted she could have come by it honestly. Erin wore a similar expression. She said: ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’

    Laura pushed back her chair. ‘You want to know where my parents are? My mum is dead, and the man who might be my dad ran off to America before I was born, leaving no forwarding address.’

    Erin’s expression didn’t alter, but she took the pencil from behind her left ear. ‘Sit down and keep your wig on. It isn’t me who makes the rules, but rules are made to be broken, right? One Veggie Works coming up.’

    Whether it was because it was the first meal she’d ever paid for, or eaten overlooking the sea, or because she felt a glow of pride at having stood up for herself, Laura could not remember ever enjoying a breakfast more. She savoured every mouthful. And when it was over, Erin brought her a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top.

    ‘I didn’t order — ’

    Erin grinned. ‘It’s on the house. To make up for the bad service.’

    Laura sat with both hands wrapped around the yellow mug and watched the world go by. The tide was out and little fishing boats lay stranded on the wet sand of the harbour. Shellseekers and dog walkers strolled across to the lighthouse. A fat spaniel was racing in circles, to the dismay of its portly owner.

    Robbie had told her that St Ives was a legendary artists’ colony - ‘Something about the quality of the light.’ It was not hard to see why. Each cobbled street was prettier or quainter than the last, and the view from the café window could have been a scene from a famous painting. No wonder he’d said that the town was a favourite with tourists, especially in the summer.

    Laura sipped her hot chocolate and tried to guess who was a tourist and who wasn’t, but it wasn’t long before her thoughts turned to Mrs Webb. What had the housekeeper meant by muttering, ‘Or so he says,’ after she’d told Laura her uncle worked for the fisheries? For Laura was quite sure that that was what she’d said.

    Before she could ponder the subject further, a frenzy of snarling and yelping broke out on the street below the café. Laura and Erin dashed down the stairs. A Rottweiller and a golden retriever were engaged in a ferocious fight on the pavement. Saliva and specks of blood flew. The dogs’ owners, a tall, spotty youth with a broken lead in his hand, and an elderly couple in matching kagoules, yelled at them from a safe distance. So did various members of a quickly gathering crowd. But nobody had the courage to intervene.

    Laura, who adored animals, had no intention of standing by while two dogs tore each other to shreds. ‘I’ll stop them,’ she said starting forward, but Erin wrenched her back.

    ‘Oh, no you don’t. You’ll get your hand bitten off.’ Laura tried to wriggle away, but Erin tightened her grip.

    Out of the corner of her eye Laura saw an Asian boy sprinting towards them. At least, she thought he was Asian. She’d seen him earlier, walking behind what she assumed to be his mum and dad, and had been struck by the difference between parents and son. The man was almost grotesquely overweight. His clothes were fine and expertly tailored, but they failed to disguise his vast belly and multiple chins. The woman was beautiful in a hard, expensive way, and equally smartly dressed in a lime-green sari and cashmere coat. The boy, by contrast, was thin and underdressed for the winter chill in light cotton trousers and a long grey shirt.

    He ran up to the dogs, by now on their hind legs, tearing at