Crime in the Café. Фиона Грейс
that bloody new mayor’s fault,” Carol wailed. “I knew he was trouble!”
“The new mayor?” Lacey said. She didn’t know anything about there being a new mayor.
Carol turned her angry red eyes to Lacey. “He’s had the east half of town rezoned. That whole area beyond the canoe club’s been changed from residential to commercial! He’s going to have a shopping mall built! Filled with horrible, characterless chain stores!” Her voice grew more and more incredulous. “He wants to build a water park! Here! In Wilfordshire! Where it rains for two-thirds of the year! And then he’s going to build this monstrosity of a viewing tower! It’ll be such an eyesore!”
Lacey listened to Carol’s ranting, though she failed to understand why this was such a big problem. As things stood at the moment, barely anyone ventured beyond the canoe club. It was pretty much dead space. Even the beach on that side of town was rugged. Developing the area seemed like a good idea to her, especially if there was going to be a high-class B&B to service it all. And surely that would benefit all the businesses on the high street, with the increased tourism.
Lacey looked up at Gina to see if her expression might hold any clues as to why this was supposedly such a big crisis. Instead, Gina was barely hiding the smirk on her face. Clearly, she thought Carol was being overdramatic, and if Gina thought you were being overdramatic, then you really had problems!
“She’s some go-getter from London,” Carol continued ranting. “Twenty-two years old. Fresh out of uni!”
She took another tissue from the box and blew her nose noisily, before handing the soggy scrunched thing back to Gina. The smirk was immediately wiped from Gina’s face.
“How does a twenty-two-year-old open a B&B?” Lacey said, her tone one of marvel rather than Carol’s disdain.
“By having rich parents, obviously,” Carol sneered. “Her parents owned that huge retirement home in the hills. You know the one?”
Lacey could just about bring it to her memory, though she’d barely ventured that way. From what she remembered, it was a very large estate. It would require an enormous renovation to turn it from a dated retirement home to a B&B, not to mention some development of the infrastructure. It was a good fifteen-minute walk out of town and there were only two buses an hour that served that part of the coast. It seemed like a lot for a twenty-two-year-old to take on.
“Anyway,” Carol continued. “The parents decided to retire early and sell off their retirement portfolio, but each of her kids got to choose one property each to do what they wanted with. Can you imagine being twenty-two and being given a property? I had to work my fingers to the bone to start my business and now Little Miss Thing is just going to waltz in and start hers like that.” She snapped her fingers aggressively.
“We should count ourselves lucky she decided on something as sensible as a B&B,” Gina said. “If I’d been given a huge house at her age, I’d probably have opened a twenty-four-hour nightclub.”
Lacey couldn’t help herself. She let out a bark of laughter. But Carol dissolved into tears.
Just then, Chester decided to come over and see what all the commotion was about. He rested his head in Carol’s lap.
What a sweetheart, Lacey thought.
Chester didn’t know Carol was being dramatic about nothing. He just thought she was a human in distress who deserved some comfort. Lacey decided to take a page out of his book.
“Sounds to me like you’re panicking over nothing,” she said to Carol, softly. “Your B&B is iconic. The tourists love the Barbie-pink house on the high street just as much as they love Tom’s window sculptures made from macarons. A luxury B&B can’t compete with your period property. It has its own quirky style and people love it.”
Lacey had to ignore the sound of sniggering coming from Gina. Quirky had been a carefully selected word to describe all the flamingos and palm ferns, and she could just imagine the different ones Gina would’ve chosen: gaudy, tacky, garish…
Carol looked up at Lacey with watery eyes. “You really think so?”
“I know so! And besides, you have something Little Miss Thing doesn’t. Grit. Determination. Passion. No one handed you the B&B on a plate, did they? And what kind of Londoner really wants to settle down in Wilfordshire at the ripe old age of twenty-two? My bet is Little Miss Thing will get bored soon enough and go off to greener pastures.”
“Or grayer pastures,” Gina quipped. “You know, because of all the roads in London? That she’ll be going back to… oh, never mind.”
Carol collected herself. “Thank you, Lacey. You really made me feel better.” She stood and patted Chester on the head. “You too, darling dog.” She dabbed her cheeks with her tissue. “Now, I’d better get back to work.”
She tipped up her chin and left without another word.
As soon as the door closed behind her, Gina started laughing.
“Honestly,” she exclaimed. “Someone needs to give that woman a reality check! She’s really in the wrong business if she thinks a twenty-two-year-old novice is a threat. You and I both know this London kid will be out of here as soon as she’s got enough money together to buy a warehouse apartment in Chelsea.” She shook her head. “I think I’ll take my break now, if you don’t mind? I’ve had quite enough excitement.”
“Go for it,” Lacey said, just as the door tinkled to usher in another customer. “I’ve got this.”
Gina patted her knees to get Chester’s attention. “Come on, boy, walkies.”
He leapt up and the two headed for the door. The short, slim young woman who’d just entered took a wide step to the left, in that tell-tale way of a person who was scared of dogs and expecting them to jump up and bite them.
Gina gave her a curt nod. She didn’t have much time for people who didn’t like pets.
Once the door had closed behind Gina and Chester, the girl seemed to relax. She approached Lacey, her patchwork skirt swishing as she went. Paired with an oversized knitted cardigan, her outfit wouldn’t look out of place hanging in Gina’s closet.
“Can I help you?” Lacey asked the woman.
“Yes,” the young woman said. She had a timid energy about her, her mousy brown hair that lay unstyled over her shoulders adding to her childlike air, and her large eyes giving her something of a rabbit-in-the-headlights look. “You’re Lacey, right?”
“That’s right.”
It never failed to make Lacey feel disconcerted when people knew her by name. Especially considering what had happened with Brooke…
“I’m Suzy,” the girl said, holding out her hand to shake Lacey’s. “I’m opening a B&B along the coast. Someone gave me your name as a good contact for furniture.”
Lacey wished Gina was still here so she could exchange a surprised look with her, but alas she was alone, and so she shook the hand being proffered to her. She couldn’t quite believe this tiny slip of a girl was the rich London graduate who had struck such fear into Carol. She barely looked over sixteen, and was as timid as a mouse. She looked like she was on her way to church, not about to open a business.
“What is it that you’re looking for?” Lacey asked, masking her surprise with politeness.
The girl shrugged bashfully. “I’m not really sure yet, to be honest. All I know is that I don’t want anything modern. The estate is far too big for modern. It would feel corporate and soulless, you know? It needs to feel cozy. Luxurious. Unique.”
“Well, why don’t we walk around the store and see if we can get some inspiration?” Lacey said.
“That’s a great idea!” Suzy replied, grinning a youthful smile of exuberance.
Lacey led her to Steampunk Corner. “I was an interior designer’s assistant for about fourteen years