well.
‘Shut up, Spiro,’ said Xanthi, then to Tiffany. ‘Don’t listen to him. What you like today?’
Tiffany placed her order and escaped to the relaxed calm of the hippies’ fruit and vege shop. Jim sold her a slab of chilled watermelon and blended her a mix of fresh pineapple and mango juice.
‘Enjoying your visit?’ he asked as the juicer whirred and he rammed in pineapple chunks.
‘It’s a lovely place,’ said Tiffany.
‘Will your work keep you here much longer?’
‘My work?’
‘I’m sorry, I thought you were doing some work for Miles, something to do with the business. I only ask because we could do with some financial advice, Sharon and me.’
Why on earth did Miles think that hiring an accountant from out of town would keep his business more private? Tiffany opened her purse as she considered her reply and the implications of the question. The repartee next door revealed Birrigai’s vast unknown gossip networks the existence of which she’d been totally unaware. What else did the town know about her? Did Fiorella entertain drinkers at the pub with stories of her kissing couples? Did Miles?
Her fumbling, clammy fingers sent coins bouncing and careering across the wooden floor. Tiffany darted about retrieving them, uncomfortably aware of Jim’s startled gaze. Clumsiness wasn’t her usual style, especially with money, and as she stamped her foot on a rolling twenty cent piece, she realised she’d left her briefcase behind at Miles’ house. She had never, ever done that before. Her briefcase was almost a part of her. Leaving it behind when working was akin to leaving the house without shoes on.
‘I wouldn’t dream of asking if you were here purely on holiday,’ Jim said when she straightened up and offered a handful of coins over the counter.
‘I am here on holiday,’ said Tiffany. ‘Who told you I was working?’
‘Word gets around. You get used to everyone knowing everything. It’s what we love about living here, the strong community vibe. We’re all part of a big, cosmic family.’
‘Families can have secrets,’ Tiffany commented wryly. Mr Naïve. She was fairly certain Miles didn’t regard Jim and Sharon as siblings, cosmic or terrestrial. And did they know Fleur? They’d get two-in-one there. ‘What did you want to ask?’
‘Whether we should expand the store. We’d need to take out a loan. We’re just numbers on a piece of paper to the bank.’
‘But I don’t know you either.’
‘Miles does, and we know you a bit. Sharon read your aura and she says you’re sympathetic and kind. She said it was unmistakable, the first thing she noticed when you came in that first day.’
‘Really? No-one’s ever done that before.’ Tiffany had to clamp her lips together firmly to stop from laughing at his earnest expression. ‘What colour was it?’
‘A mix of pinks and orange, I think. With a touch of green.’
‘Goodness.’ She’d have to rethink her wardrobe. If it had been the day she’d had the horrible headache it would have been bilious green.
‘So would you give us your professional advice? We’d pay you for your time, of course.’ His teeth gleamed white through the shaggy beard. ‘Couldn’t ask you to do it for nothing.’
She wouldn’t do it for nothing, that’s for sure. ‘I’m not a professional financial planner.’
‘That’s okay, you know more about the business side of things than we do and you can assess our situation.’
‘I really shouldn’t,’ she began.
‘How about payment in kind? All the fruit, juice and yoghurt you can eat,’ he suggested eagerly.
Tiffany glanced around and her gaze fell upon a stack of luscious orange mangoes, ripe and juicy. Her mind flew to lips and kisses and sweet, slippery fruit. Her head began nodding before her brain sent the words to her mouth.
‘It’s a deal,’ she said.
Chapter Six
Back in the motel room, sitting on the bed eating fish and chips in her underwear, Tiffany
‘Shut up, Spiro,’ said Xanthi, then to Tiffany. ‘Don’t listen to him. What you like today?’
Tiffany placed her order and escaped to the relaxed calm of the hippies’ fruit and vege shop. Jim sold her a slab of chilled watermelon and blended her a mix of fresh pineapple and mango juice.
‘Enjoying your visit?’ he asked as the juicer whirred and he rammed in pineapple chunks.
‘It’s a lovely place,’ said Tiffany.
‘Will your work keep you here much longer?’
‘My work?’
‘I’m sorry, I thought you were doing some work for Miles, something to do with the business. I only ask because we could do with some financial advice, Sharon and me.’
Why on earth did Miles think that hiring an accountant from out of town would keep his business more private? Tiffany opened her purse as she considered her reply and the implications of the question. The repartee next door revealed Birrigai’s vast unknown gossip networks the existence of which she’d been totally unaware. What else did the town know about her? Did Fiorella entertain drinkers at the pub with stories of her kissing couples? Did Miles?
Her fumbling, clammy fingers sent coins bouncing and careering across the wooden floor. Tiffany darted about retrieving them, uncomfortably aware of Jim’s startled gaze. Clumsiness wasn’t her usual style, especially with money, and as she stamped her foot on a rolling twenty cent piece, she realised she’d left her briefcase behind at Miles’ house. She had never, ever done that before. Her briefcase was almost a part of her. Leaving it behind when working was akin to leaving the house without shoes on.
‘I wouldn’t dream of asking if you were here purely on holiday,’ Jim said when she straightened up and offered a handful of coins over the counter.
‘I am here on holiday,’ said Tiffany. ‘Who told you I was working?’
‘Word gets around. You get used to everyone knowing everything. It’s what we love about living here, the strong community vibe. We’re all part of a big, cosmic family.’
‘Families can have secrets,’ Tiffany commented wryly. Mr Naïve. She was fairly certain Miles didn’t regard Jim and Sharon as siblings, cosmic or terrestrial. And did they know Fleur? They’d get two-in-one there. ‘What did you want to ask?’
‘Whether we should expand the store. We’d need to take out a loan. We’re just numbers on a piece of paper to the bank.’
‘But I don’t know you either.’
‘Miles does, and we know you a bit. Sharon read your aura and she says you’re sympathetic and kind. She said it was unmistakable, the first thing she noticed when you came in that first day.’
‘Really? No-one’s ever done that before.’ Tiffany had to clamp her lips together firmly to stop from laughing at his earnest expression. ‘What colour was it?’
‘A mix of pinks and orange, I think. With a touch of green.’
‘Goodness.’ She’d have to rethink her wardrobe. If it had been the day she’d had the horrible headache it would have been bilious green.
‘So would you give us your professional advice? We’d pay you for your time, of course.’ His teeth gleamed white through the shaggy beard. ‘Couldn’t ask you to do it for nothing.’
She wouldn’t do it for nothing, that’s for sure. ‘I’m not a professional financial planner.’
‘That’s okay, you know more about the business side of things than we do and you can assess our situation.’
‘I really shouldn’t,’ she began.
‘How about payment in kind? All the fruit, juice and yoghurt you can eat,’ he suggested eagerly.
Tiffany glanced around and her gaze fell upon a stack of luscious orange mangoes, ripe and juicy. Her mind flew to lips and kisses and sweet, slippery fruit. Her head began nodding before her brain sent the words to her mouth.
‘It’s a deal,’ she said.
Chapter Six
Back in the motel room, sitting on the bed eating fish and chips in her underwear, Tiffany
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