Sylvia arrived, looking guilty. Instead of flouncing confidently to her desk she shuffled in sheepishly.
“I feel dreadful,” she stated, coming straight to the point. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”
“Why?” Clementine asked breezily.
“Why? Because I’ve been a bitch, that’s why. I didn’t like who I was last night, and I want to say I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Sylvia. I understand why you did it.”
Sylvia was surprised. “You do, and you’re not upset with me?”
“Not at all.” Clementine’s happiness made her unusually forgiving. “I was with Joe anyway, so I wouldn’t have been able to come.”
“Well, I should have told you. He’s your friend, not mine.”
“He’s everyone’s friend, Sylvia.”
“No, I think he likes you more than anyone else. His face lit up when he spoke about you.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“He’s like that with everyone, don’t be under any illusions.” But she allowed herself a frisson of excitement even though she was certain Sylvia was wrong.
Mr. Atwood arrived in the early afternoon after a meeting in Exeter. The letters he had requested were waiting on his desk, a list of messages neatly typed up beside them. Clementine came in with a cup of coffee. He sat back in his chair and chewed on the end of his pencil, observing her through narrowed eyes.
“You’re becoming a rather good secretary, Clementine. I’m impressed!”
“Thank you, Mr. Atwood.”
“Let me ask you, why the sudden leaf turning?”
“No reason. I’m actually enjoying myself.”
“Good. That suit becomes you.”
Clementine noticed the lascivious glint in his eyes and recoiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re a pretty girl, Clementine.”
“Is there anything else, Mr. Atwood? Because if there isn’t, I’d like to get back to my desk.”
“Yes, yes. Of course. Don’t let me detain you.” He gave a cheerful chuckle to show that he meant nothing by the compliments. “I like a secretary who’s keen to be at her desk.”
Back at the hotel, Bertha sat at the kitchen table with Heather, hugging a mug of coffee.
“I think the brigadier is keen on Mrs. Meister,” said Heather. “I’ve been watching them closely. They always sit together, and he’s asked her to take a walk with him this evening. I’m ashamed to have eavesdropped, but it’s gripping, I can’t help it.”
“Love is in the air,” Bertha sang tunelessly.
“I’ve always felt sorry for him. You know, coming up for breakfast every morning on his own. No wife at home to go back to. Now he’s all smiles. I think it’s sweet.”
“Which one’s Mrs. Meister?”
“The little mousy one.”
“Oh dear, can she cope with the brigadier? He’s like a big walrus.”
“Her husband died, poor love, so she’s on her own, too. I think it’s a match made in heaven.”
“I’ve got my eye on Rafa.” Bertha grinned into her mug.
Heather was horrified. “You’re not going to do anything about it, are you?”
“I don’t mean I fancy him. I like an older man, personally, and a little bigger. I’d squash him like a crêpe. I mean I’m watching him.”
“Why?”
“I think he’s got a girlfriend back home.”
“Really?”
“Yes. When I was cleaning his room, I came across a wad of love letters from a girl called Costanza. That’s Constance, isn’t it?”
“Must be.”
“So, I’m just keeping an eye on him in case he strays.”
“Why would you care if he strayed?”
“I wouldn’t. I just want to make sure that I’m around to see it.”
“Really, Bertha. You’re terrible, you are.”
“Just looking for a little entertainment. It’s not often that exciting things happen down here in Devon.”
“I’d say Baffles is exciting.”
“If he comes here, which I doubt. Not a great deal to take of any value, here.” She snorted disparagingly and slurped the last dreg of coffee from the bottom of the mug.
“Didn’t you see Harvey’s new car?”
“No.” Bertha looked put out. “What new car?”
“A Jaguar, no less.”
“What’s he doing with a Jaguar?”
“Lord knows, but if he’s not careful, he’ll find it gone in the morning with nothing but a note saying ‘Thank you’ in its place.”