Page 37 of Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
‘I know. It was a hot day in August and the man must havebeen absolutely roasting in that get-up. But the strangest thing of all wasthat they wereplaying cards.’
I laugh. ‘That’s quite an image. Was it poker?’
Katrina snorts. ‘Pokeher, more like it.’ She shrugs.‘Each to his own, I suppose. Then there was the woman who tried to commitsuicide.’
‘What?’ I stare at her, horrified. ‘Really?’
‘Oh, yes. Blood everywhere. In the bath. On the bed.Handprints in blood on the window.’
‘Oh, my God. Was it you who found her?’
‘No. Anna, who used to be housekeeper here, heard someone crashingabout so she went to investigate. And the woman was standing there with aTupperware box full of blood, smearing it over the sheets.’
‘What?’
‘It was actually paint. She’d been out a few times with Rolf,the head chef here, but he’d told her he didn’t think they were compatible. Soshe decided to fake her own suicide in the hotel where he worked. I guess Rolf’srejection must have tipped the poor woman over the edge.’
‘How sad.’
‘I know. Even sadder, Rolf wasn’t even working that day.’
I blow out my breath. ‘You’d never believe all that could goon behind an innocent-looking hotel door. I bet Rolf’s relieved he gave her theold heave-ho after all that palaver.’
‘Oh, they’re back together again now.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. Apparently, he got lukewarm vibes from her on theirdates, which was why he ended it. But when she revealed her...um...passionateside, he decided to give it anothergo.’
‘Crikey.’
We lapse into a brief silence. Then Katrina says, ‘So didyou catch your friend’s man snogging someone else?’
I’m still thinking about the Tupperware box, and it takes mea while to realise she’s talking about Primrose and Sam. ‘Er...no. But he told her he was going somewhere and he very clearly wasn’t. And hemet up with this woman in her car.’ I shrug. ‘I don’t know if I should tell myfriend or just keep quiet and hope it was entirely innocent.’
‘Trouble is, if you mention it and you’re wrong, you mightend up losing a friend.’
‘I know. Aargh! I don’t know what to do for the best.’
‘Well, while you’re thinking, can you run down to the storecupboard and grab some more dusters.’ She grins. ‘You’ve been using them toclean the bathroom.’
‘Oops. Sorry. Back in a minute.’
‘By the way, have you written anything I can read yet?’
I stop and turn. ‘Er, no... I thoughtabout what you said but I don’t know what to write.’ I shrug uselessly.
Katrina frowns as she bends to whisk dust from the skirtingboard. ‘Just write what youfeellike writing? Sit down at your laptopand see what comes out?’
I nod slowly, thinking it might be worth a try.Anythingwouldbe worth a go, really...
She shrugs. ‘It wouldn’t matterwhatyou were writing,just as long as it got you back into the groove?’
I smile at her. ‘You’re very wise, Katrina.’
‘It’s just common sense.’ She straightens up and folds herarms. ‘My granny had a theory about that. She used to say, “Philosophy is justcommon sense with big words”.’ She had no time for those arty farty types.’
‘So you’re a chip off the old block, then?’
