Chapter Eighteen
Kivi
“What’s gotten your goat?” Eva asked when Kivi finally lost her shit and wrestled the vacuum cleaner into submission the next morning.
“That bloody thing.” Kivi glared at the offending red machine. It stared back at her innocently with its painted-on eyes. “I don’t know why Mum swears by this brand. He’s evil. Deliberately gets himself stuck around corners, or deliberately gets his trunk tangled, and then-”
“Trunk?” Eva barked a laugh. “He’s not an elephant! And he doesn’t have it in for you, despite what you might think. He does it with me too.”
“The little prat,” Kivi grumbled, and gave the machine a final doleful kick. “Now come on. Work with me, machine.”
But Eva put her foot over the switch and fixed her with a stern look.
“What?” Kivi snapped. She was aware she sounded like a sullen teenager, but Eva was the only person she could safely be that way around these days, so…
“Yes, what?” Eva said. “You’ve been walking around with a face like thunder all morning. It’s a miracle you didn’t snap Mrs. Moysey’s ear off when she inquired about the use-by date on the yoghurt this morning. You’re not normally like this. What’s the problem?”
Kivi huffed, then decided to behave like an adult.
“I think I did something to upset Miss Saltmarshe last night. I asked her opinions on the macaroni cheese, but I didn’t heed the warning shut-up signs, and she got a bit aggy. Stormed off up the stairs and didn’t come down for breakfast this morning.”
“Have you been up to check on her?”
“She’s got the do-not-disturb sign on her door. I’ve heard her moving about, though, so she’s alive at least. I’m just worried that, firstly, she’s not eaten anything. And that she might be avoiding me. We’re working together on this wedding, so we need to be friends otherwise the whole thing-”
“She’s helping you with the wedding?”
“Mm-hmm.” Kivi sighed, unable to meet Eva’s eyes.
“Is that a good idea? She’s a busy woman, and she seems… mercurial, at the best of times.”
“What gave you that impression? You hardly know her, and she’s never been anything less than charming to you.”
“I Googled her,” Eva said nonchalantly. “After she arrived. She’s a very good writer, but she has a reputation for being a bit… a bit of a bitch.”
Kivi suddenly remembered what Saskia had said the other night. About having ‘gotten away with murder’ at her old job. And when she’d first arrived. About ‘trying to be less of a bitch’. Oh shit. What have I let myself in for?
And yet… something inside her fluttered. Something not quite in her belly, but lower down. Oh SHIT.
“You fancy her, don’t you?” Eva was one step ahead, as always. But Kivi wasn’t going to give her that satisfaction. Not when she’d scarcely realised it herself.
“No I do not,” she said indignantly. “I don’t fall for every single hot woman that comes through these doors.”
“Ah, but you do think she’s hot?”
“Shut up!” But Kivi was laughing. It had always been the way. As her older sister, Eva had always known how to tie her up in knots.
“Fine, fine,” Eva acquiesced, laughing too. “Let’s get this room clean before Mrs Moysey comes back and finds something else to moan about. I’m sure you’d rather Miss Saltmarshe was moaning – not in the grumbling sense, but in the-”
“Evangeline!”
“What? I’m just trying to help!”
They were vacuuming the room next door to Saskia’s half an hour later when the woman herself finally appeared.
Her lipstick was bright, tacky as if freshly applied, and her hair fell over one eye.
I never noticed it was quite that fiery red before, Kivi thought.
Saskia stood in the doorway and glared at them. Eva switched the vacuum off.
“Ah, she is ris’n,” Kivi said tartly before she could stop herself, to fill the awkward silence that ensued.
She tried to smile, trying to make as if she was joking, but found herself cowering under Saskia’s steely daggers.
This is a customer, you idiot. Why are you treating her like an ordinary person?
“Do you have to make so much noise so early?” Saskia said. “Some of us have been trying to get some rest.”
“It’s a quarter to eleven,” Eva pointed out, leaning on the long handle of the vacuum cleaner. “We’re sorry if you were still asleep, but we have to clean sometime. We both have a lot to do to keep the guest house up to standard.”
Saskia blinked at them, and then looked over at the clock on the wall. “I didn’t realise how late it was,” she frowned. “I see. Well… okay. You carry on.” She disappeared, and on instinct, Kivi followed her to the staircase.
“Saskia?” she called. The woman spun on her heel, and the force of her renewed glare nearly smacked Kivi in the face.
“Can I help?” she said, in an even tone that didn’t match the vitriol in her eyes.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about last night,” Kivi said honestly. “I never intended to put you on the spot or make you feel uncomfortable.”
Saskia pursed her lips, but Kivi could tell she had disarmed her.
There wasn’t much of a retort to give such a frank apology, after all.
Another thing that Eva had taught her over the years.
Kivi could almost see the cogs in her brain turning, and her eyes begin to soften. That is really quite cute.
Stop it, Kiera.
“I shouldn’t have lashed out,” Saskia said eventually.
“I’m glad you realise that,” Kivi said. Saskia blinked again. Kivi guessed that in her world, an admission of wrongdoing was as good as an apology, but Kivi wanted to hear her say the words. She waited.
Slowly but surely, Saskia went red. It wasn’t easy to miss, with her fair colouring, and the more Kivi waited, the more she glowed like a traffic light.
The other woman’s gaze had dropped to the floor, but now she slowly dragged it back up Kivi’s body, before stopping once again at her lips. Then Saskia licked her own.
Fuck. Is she… going to… kiss me?
Kivi stepped forward. It wasn’t a voluntary movement – her body was humming with tension now, her heart pounding, her face tingling even though Saskia hadn’t touched her yet. All she would have to do was lean forward, stand on her tip-toes, and…
Saskia’s heart was pounding too. Kivi could almost feel it moving the energy around her. Then she wobbled. Swayed. Then made a little agonised noise that was part groan, part choke, and stepped back.
“Whoa there,” Kivi said, and put her hand on Saskia’s arm to steady her so that she wouldn’t fall down the stairs. “Are you all right?”
“Nngh,” Saskia said, wrenching her arm free.
Kivi raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, but Saskia wasn’t even looking at her.
“Yes. Sorry. I’m okay. Just dizzy. I’ll just – I’ll go and sit down.
I…” She finally met Kivi’s eyes for one quick, fleeting glance, then – “I’m sorry,” she whispered, disappearing down the stairs as if the police were on her tail.