working in your chaletâand that the drink wasnât red wine,â he said, in a matter-of-fact way. âSir ⦠Madam.â He half smiled at Phil and his wife. âI appreciate your disappointment in our site, so I do, and apologiesâwe are going through a transition period, thrown uponus unexpectedly, and are doing our best. Thatâs why you werenât charged for this weekâso that you could provide useful feedback. Please.â Tremain called over Greg. âIâm sure Chef will be happy to cook something that meets your needs.â Tremain raised an eyebrow. âGeorge?â He jerked his head and the two of them headed into the kitchen.
Around twenty minutes later, after Greg had taken the familyâs order and Izzy and I had finished our food, the kitchenâs doors swung open. George stormed out and pulled off his name badge. He threw it onto one of the tables and then hurried past us, before leaving the building. Tremain appeared a few seconds later.
âAll sorted?â I said.
âYes,â muttered Tremain and shook his head. âGeorge seems to have reacted to a flying splat of carrot purée, as if it were a hand grenade that might threaten your life.â He cleared his throat. âAnyway, my apologies for this incident. Iâve dealt with it.â
âPerhaps he just needs timeâto adjust?â Izzy said.
Tremain shrugged. âMother and I have made it quite clear to the staff what is expected of them now. Fortunately, so far, most of our team have proved able to cope with the rebranding. But the change in clientele has brought new challenges.â Looking suddenly tired, Tremain gently took my arm and steered me towards outside, whilst Izzy sat talking to the young waiter. In the evening light, Tremain took another look at my face.
âThe bruise is blackening now. Iâd get back to your lodge if I was you, and soak those clothes.â
âThanks ⦠um ⦠Shame about George. You wouldnât think he was such a snob, just to look at him. He seems like an ordinary guyâa granddad type, who loves kids.â
âThen lesson learntânever judge a person by their appearance.â
I shifted from foot to foot. âYes, about that, you see, with the soil on your clothes, I assumed â¦â Urgh, rambling now.
âIâve never been afraid to get my hands dirty and Iâd say the best managers get down with the lower ranks,â he said and walked off.
Ranks? He made his staff sound like an army regiment. I followed him. OK, I wasnât perfect, but I never found it hard to apologise when I was in the wrong.
âWait a minute. Look, Iâm sorry.â
Tremain turned around. âWhatever. Makes no difference to me. Gardener, handyman, management â¦â His eyes flickered. âThere are worse jobs a man can do.â
My heart squeezed as in that brief second his eyes revealed a degree of ⦠damage. Once again I felt that urge to wrap my arms around his solid frame. What was that all about? Maybe, just maybe, there was a human being below that tough, uncompromising, robotic surface.
CHAPTER 5
âWe go together, like ramma ramma lamma, dippety dooby dooby, sha na na â¦â
âKate! You just murdered that chorus.â
âDonât be cheeky.â I grinned and glanced sideways at Izzy as she drove along the coastal road. Or rather chuggedâthe volume of tourist traffic was high, but that didnât matter as it meant we could enjoy the sea views. I never could remember the exact words to that brill song from Grease and turned down the volume of the CD player as Izzy pulled into a car park. On the journey yesterday, weâd played the soundtracks to all our favourite girls-night-in filmsâ Bridget Jones, Love Actually, Pretty Woman, Bridesmaids ⦠I might like historical series, but even I sometimes needed a chick flick accompanied by, yes, what
Anne Conley
Robert T. Jeschonek
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Debbie Macomber
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Paul Henke