The Mermaid Garden(5)
Clementine laughed and flopped into her chair. “Well, I don’t really care if he targets the Polzanze and steals all Submarine’s precious paintings. He’d be doing me a favor if he managed to carry her off with his loot.”
“I think you’re being unfair. I like her. She’s glamorous.”
“Cheap glamour.”
“Don’t be such a snob.”
“I’m not a snob. I don’t care where people come from if they’re nice.”
“She’s a local girl, like me.”
“Not that you’d know. She tries so hard to sound posh, there’s barely any trace of her original country accent.” Clementine chuckled. “The trouble is she’s ended up with a very strange accent that’s neither one thing nor the other—at times she even sounds foreign!”
“You’re very hard on her, Clemmie. So, she has the odd character flaw. You should be more forgiving.”
“She’s pretentious. I don’t like people who pretend to be what they’re not. She should stop trying to sound grand.”
Sylvia rounded on her crossly. “You say you’re not a snob, Clementine, but you’re sounding just like one. What’s your posh education done for you? Given you a plum to carry in your mouth and a sense of superiority. You’re working in the same office as me, earning a lot less. Your father would have done better to have saved his pennies.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you, Sylvia. She’s my stepmother. I don’t think she’s good for my father, that’s all. He could have done better for himself. You know he was a highly successful barrister in London. What on earth inspired him to come down here and run a hotel?”
“His wife.”
“My point exactly. He’d be a judge by now if he’d hung in there.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to be a judge. Perhaps he’s happy with the choice he made. Anyway, you’re not meant to love your stepmother. Had she been born the daughter of a king you still wouldn’t think her good enough.”
“I think she wanted the house because it was owned by the Duke of Somerland. She sits in her study, which used to be the duchess’s, and feels important. Dad was so far above her on the food chain I’m surprised she managed to get him in her sights.”
“I think she’s beautiful. There’s something deep and sad in her eyes.”
“Trust me, she has nothing to be sad about. She’s got everything she ever wanted by sheer manipulation.”
“Then you should take a leaf out of her book and use your beauty cleverly.”
“I’m not beautiful.”
Sylvia shook her head and grinned at her kindly. “You are when you smile.”
Marina watched with relief as Balthazar’s car finally spluttered its way out of the driveway. She found Grey up a ladder in the library next door, looking for a book to lend the brigadier who had breakfasted on eggs and fried bread at the Polzanze ever since his wife had died five years ago.
“Oh dear,” he said. “So that didn’t go well.”
She raised her hands to heaven and inhaled theatrically. “I couldn’t get rid of him. My office now smells like a hostel for the homeless, and I’m about to interview another one.”
“Why don’t you sit outside? It’s a beautiful day.”
“If Elizabeth Pembridge-Hughes is presentable, I will. However, if she’s crazy, I’ll have to hide her away for fear of scaring our guests. I’ve lit a scented candle, but I fear it will take more than that.”
“I thought you’d like him. You love eccentrics.”
She smiled grudgingly. “Not eccentrics with blackened teeth and bad breath, long greasy hair, and ridiculous clothes!”
“You surprise me.” He came down the ladder.
“I like presentable eccentrics. Ones who smell of lime, wear clean shirts, and brush their teeth.”
“Ah.” He raised an eyebrow.
He kissed her forehead. “This is meant to be fun, Marina. It’s your idea, after all. Enjoy it.”
“But what if I don’t find someone suitable?”
“You don’t have to have an artist-in-residence.”
“Oh, but I do. We need something to make us different, to draw people in. I don’t have to remind you of the trouble we’re in. We have to think of new ways of attracting business, or we’ll be another credit-crunch tragedy. We’re not making money, Grey. In fact, we’re hemorrhaging money. Think about it: half the guests who come here in the summer come to paint. My London ladies have booked in for their week in June simply because they want to repeat the fun of last year. I’m building a reputation that will bring people back year after year.”