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Rosie’s Little Café on the Riviera. Jennifer BohnetЧитать онлайн книгу.

Rosie’s Little Café on the Riviera - Jennifer  Bohnet


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to me and no wandering off,’ Erica said. ‘But in case we do get separated, you don’t talk to strangers and you come and stand by the entrance here and wait. Understood?’ Erica looked at Cammie intently as she waited for her answer.

      Cammie nodded. ‘I promise. I won’t wander.’

      Erica took charge of the shopping trolley and together they began to explore the various rows with their laden tables. Buying bits and pieces here and there, Erica carefully placed their purchases in the bag before they stopped in front of a stall devoted to art nouveau collectibles.

      So much stuff here that would be good in the shop, but Erica was drawn to a magnificent, stained, leaded-glass table lamp. Never mind about putting it in the shop, she’d love it for herself. Too big and precious to be put in the shopping bag, it was also too cumbersome for her to carry all the way home. She glanced at the woman behind the stall. ‘Any chance you could deliver this for me later today?’

      The woman shook her head. ‘No can do, sorry. We’ve got a tight schedule today. We’ve got to get down to St Tropez for an evening sale when we leave here.’

      Erica turned away and caught Cammie by the hand. ‘Fancy getting a taxi home later?’ She knew the answer before she asked the question really.

      The quick withdrawal of her hand and the shuttered look that came down over Cammie’s face confirmed it.

      ‘Never mind,’ Erica said quickly. ‘It doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s explore the next row.’

      To her relief, Cammie for once was easily distracted and was soon engrossed in looking at a table of children’s books and toys and surplus ornaments – including a foot-high pottery lighthouse the base of which was badly chipped. When Erica pointed this out, Cammie said, ‘It doesn’t matter because it’s not “treasure”. I just want it for my beach project.’

      ‘Wasting your pocket money again, Cammie?’ a voice behind them said, and Erica turned to see GeeGee standing there, a big grin on her face as she gave Erica a hug.

      ‘You’re thinner than ever,’ Erica said now as she returned the hug. Rosie mentioning she hadn’t seen GeeGee for a few days should have rung alarm bells in her mind. She knew GeeGee skipped meals when commissions dried up and money was tight.

      ‘How’s things?’

      GeeGee shrugged. ‘Things are so-so.’

      ‘Want to come back with us for lunch?’ Erica said. ‘And before you say no, I could do with talking to you.’

      ‘Lunch would be great.’

      ‘Actually,’ Erica said as a sudden thought struck her. ‘There’s something else, too. Have you got your car here?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Brilliant. Fancy an ice cream?’ And Erica led the way to the picnic area and the catering van. She handed the shopping basket over to GeeGee before giving her a ten-euro note. ‘You two have whatever you want and wait here. I’ll be back.’

      Finding the stand with the tiffany lamp took Erica some time, and when she did finally find it she had to wait for the woman to finish serving an elderly man who wanted to discuss the provenance of a glass plate he was buying. Erica crossed her fingers while she waited, hoping he wouldn’t want the lamp as well. He didn’t. Fifteen minutes later, the lamp was wrapped in protective bubble wrap and Erica was making her way carefully back to Cammie and GeeGee.

      ‘You can take everything back to the house in your car while Cammie and I walk back, OK?’ she said. ‘I’ll pick up a roasted chicken in the market.’

      ‘Don’t forget the sautéed potatoes,’ GeeGee said, knowing Cammie loved them but Erica rarely bought them.

      ‘Here’s the house key. There’s a bottle of rosé in the fridge. Help yourself. I’ll see you in a bit.’

      Sunday morning, when Tansy arrived for work, Rosie was tired and grumpy having tossed and turned more than she’d slept.

      ‘James not in yet?’ Tansy asked.

      ‘Not coming in.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I fired him. Those carrots need peeling,’ Rosie said, slamming the oven door closed on the rib of beef.

      ‘I’m not doing another thing until you tell me what’s happened.’

      Rosie sighed. ‘I went to Seb’s party last night. Charlie was there.’

      ‘How is he?’ Tansy had a soft spot for Charlie and had never understood Rosie’s reluctance to get involved with him again.

      ‘Antoine forgot to tell us that Charlie’s dad, William, got married recently. It turns out that Charlie is James’s newly acquired stepbrother. He sent James to spy on me – so I fired him. End of.’

      ‘Oh. But James is so good. Just what we need.’

      Rosie shrugged. ‘I can’t really afford him at the moment anyway. We’ll find someone else for later in the season. Now, can we please get on with preparing Sunday lunch?’

      Tansy shrugged. ‘Okay.’

      Rosie left her to it and went through to the restaurant to open up and set the tables ready for customers. Keeping busy kept Charlie out of her thoughts. She placed the reserved tags on the five tables already booked for a total of fifteen people. Not bad for a Sunday so early in the season. People were out and about on the beach, too, so hopefully there’d be some passing trade.

      Three hours later, when a tired but happy Rosie was saying goodbye to the last of her lunchtime customers and about to close the door, Charlie walked in and sat at one of the window tables.

      ‘Hi again, Rosie.’

      ‘What d’you want?’

      ‘Sunday lunch, of course. And don’t say I’m too late.’ This as Rosie glanced at her watch. ‘I know last orders are at two and it’s only ten to.’ He picked up the menu.

      ‘I’ll have the asparagus soup followed by the beef. Oh, and tell Tansy the usual, easy on the veg but the more roasties the better.’

      Wordlessly Rosie turned and marched away.

      ‘And open a bottle of decent red for me, would you, please?’ Charlie called out after her. ‘And bring a glass for yourself.’

      ‘One soup, one beef, heavy on the roasties, lose the veg,’ she said to Tansy through gritted teeth.

      Tansy glanced up from the soup she was pouring into a fresh bowl ready for the fridge. ‘Charlie’s here?’

      ‘Yep. And he wants me to open a decent red for him,’ Rosie replied, standing in front of the wine rack. ‘He wants decent – I’ll give him decent.’ And she opened the most expensive Chateau Margaux currently on her wine list.

      She ignored the request to take another glass for herself. No way was she going to have a drink with him. Carefully she poured a taster into his wine glass and waited for Charlie to take a sip.

      ‘Nice. Can I afford it?’

      ‘Sure you can.’

      ‘Where’s your glass?’

      ‘I don’t drink with the customers.’

      ‘I don’t see any customers,’ Charlie said, looking around the empty restaurant. ‘Only me, and I reckon I rate higher than a mere customer anyway.’

      Tansy appeared with Charlie’s soup and a basket of bread rolls. ‘Hi, Charlie. Good to see you.’

      Rosie glared at her.

      ‘Thanks for sending Jamie our way. Can you now please persuade Rosie to unsack


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