The Girl in the Yellow Vest by Loretta Hill Read Free Book Online

reception window. He neither glanced in, nor paused, in that arrogant, dogmatic way that was only his. Even so, she couldn’t help but crane her neck a little so that she could watch him manoeuvre that perfect arse of his into the driver’s seat of a white ute.
    Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout. If only he didn’t have the personality of a cactus.
    ‘He’s a bit of all right,’ a voice cackled at her elbow. ‘Don’t suppose he’s looking for a fling while he’s in town.’
    Charlotte jumped, nearly sliding off the counter she’d been leaning on so heavily and landing on the floor. She didn’t like the direction her mother’s thoughts were taking. ‘Mum, you gave me a fright!’
    The older woman who had suddenly materialised by her elbow ignored this remark. She patted her wiry, grey-streaked hair, watching the ute disappear in a cloud of dust. ‘I’m calling dibs.’
    ‘You’re
what
?’
    ‘He’s mine. Hands off.’
    ‘I wasn’t –’
    ‘Yeah right,’ she scoffed, adding smugly, ‘Gentlemen prefer blondes. And stop calling me Mum. I’m too young to be your mother.’ And she removed a pocket mirror from her purse to examine her make-up, which had been applied with all the coordination of a five-year-old. Yes. Definitely having an episode.
    Charlotte kept her voice light. ‘It’s not even seven yet. You should still be in bed.’
    Her mother, otherwise known as Virginia Templeton, shook her head. ‘I have business in town, Sarah.’
    Sarah was the receptionist her mother had let go about eighteen years ago just after Charlotte’s father had died. Sarah had been caught renting rooms to her friends for free. But that wasn’t the most telling hint that the sixty-year-old was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. Despite the fact that she was carrying an old-fashioned handbag and had pulled most of her hair back into an off-centre bun, she was still dressed in her long pale-pink nightie, the kind that buttoned up at the front.
    ‘Come on, Mum, let’s get you some breakfast.’ Charlotte came out from behind the counter and took her by the elbow. ‘You haven’t eaten yet, have you?’
    Virginia pulled her arm away but looked slightly confused. ‘Actually . . . er . . . I don’t think I have.’
    ‘Thought so.’ Charlotte put up a plastic sign on the counter top,
Ring bell for service
. Spinning her mother in a complete circle, she walked her back through the door she’d come in by. It was also the entrance to their home.
    They entered a cosy-looking living room. The decor was simple, consisting of a pine bookshelf, an inexpensive TV cabinet, a matching coffee table and a pair of gum-green couches. The curtains were floral and the carpet cream. All in all, the layout had not really changed since she’d first left home to study psychology in Brisbane nineteen years back. They passed through this area, straight to the kitchen and dining where Charlotte’s younger sister, Zara, sat eating some toast.
    The fifteen-year-old grinned. ‘Hey, Mum, off to town again?’
    Charlotte tried sending her a meaningful look as she gently removed her mother’s handbag from her wrist, but Zara didn’t seem to receive the message. Charlotte took her eyes from her sister and guided her mother to a chair. ‘What would you like, Mum? Toast or cereal?’
    Virginia Templeton glanced from daughter to daughter. She had a blank look in her eyes as though she were coming out of a dream and was trying to find her bearings.
    ‘Tell you what,’ Charlotte patted her shoulder, ‘I’ll get your favourite. Coco Pops.’
    Zara immediately frowned. ‘That’s so unfair.’
    Frankly, Charlotte was in no mood to get into an argument. She felt like all she ever did these days was give people boundaries. If it wasn’t her family, it was the resort patrons or, more precisely, the workers from the Hay Point Wharf project, situated two minutes up the road.
    But for the giant expansion project going on there, Silver