Tumble Creek by Louise Forster Page B

Jennifer’s room.
    Silently, Brock moved into the room. Of course it was Sofie, but before he hit the sack, he needed to see her face. He peeked under the thick quilted mound Sofe was buried in up to her eyes and nose, breathing softly. He dared to smooth a few stray curls away from her forehead. She stirred; he was about to back away when her arm snaked out and wrapped around his neck. She pulled him down. He grinned, kissed her cheek, moved her arm away, slid it back under the covers, and said, ‘We’ll have words tomorrow about communication.’
    â€˜Mmmm,’ she moaned, and snuggled into her bed.
    ***
    By seven-thirty, with Fiona and Ryan helping, Jennifer and Sofie had everything prepared for breakfast at Veronica’s. The expected tourists were already wandering in, chatting about the eerie fog and the mournful sound of Scottish bagpipes. The conversations in the heritage-listed Edwardian building that was Veronica’s soon became a discussion about which was the best song the pipers played. Was it ‘Mull of Kintyre’ or ‘Scotland the Brave’? Laughing and teasing filled the restaurant with happy vibes. The decorations and fairy lights in the big picture windows, plus the wood fires crackling in the old hearths on opposite walls, gave the restaurant atmosphere and warmth. Veronica’s Christmas celebration was like any depicted on many Christmas cards sent from England or Europe.
    Delicious aromas of hearty eggs, bacon, sausages and muffins filled the air and wafted out the door every time someone came in or left with a full belly. It cheered Sofie and Jennifer, and carried them easily through the morning.
    Sofie had just taken a tray of empty plates to the kitchen when Claudia and Michelle walked in, fresh faced, and already dressed in white shirt and black pants.
    â€˜We’re here,’ Claudia announced.
    â€˜Both of you give me a hug,’ Sofie ordered.
    â€˜Mum!’ Claudia complained, then whispered, ‘The customers.’
    â€˜I don’t care and I’m sure they don’t.’ She hauled Claudia into her arms and hugged her, then gave Michelle the same treatment. ‘Girls, I love how you’ve twisted the tinsel through your hair and the little sprigs of holly, perfect for today.’
    Claudia dug in her pants pocket. ‘Got these for you and Aunt Jen,’ she said, handing over two pairs of Santa earrings that lit up with tiny lights. ‘What’s the lunch menu?’ she asked, scanning the chalkboard in the kitchen while Michelle peered over her shoulder. ‘Hearty minestrone soup. Hmm, marmalade glazed, succulent roast turkey, stuffing, vegetables, gravy, and cranberry sauce, pudding …’ she trailed off.
    â€˜Elliot will chef during lunch,’ Jennifer told them. ‘Your Mum and I need a break before the dinner crowd.’
    â€˜How’s Elliot working out?’ Sofie asked.
    â€˜Really good. I hope he sticks around. We can’t keep doing all the shifts, it’s not possible. The restaurant is running at a healthy profit. Like you said, we need to get organised, and get more staff. ‘
    â€˜Yeah … what if you fall pregnant or something,’ Sofie winked.
    â€˜That’s right, like any day now,’ Jennifer shot back.
    Hand on her heart, Sofie gasped. ‘Are you?’
    â€˜Not yet, but we’re having fun trying.’ Jennifer laughed.
    Elliot, a tall, sinewy man in his early forties with laughing brown eyes, long auburn hair greying at the temples and tied back in a ponytail, came in through the back door. ‘G’day!’ He went straight to the kitchen, studied the menu and started preparing.
    â€˜The turkeys have been roasting for two hours and the turkey pieces are all prepared ready to go in, same with the potatoes,’ Jennifer told him.
    â€˜T’riffic,’ Elliot mumbled, turning to check on the birds.
    Sofie turned to Jennifer and made