The Trouble With Emma by Katie Oliver Read Free Book Online Page A

and looked at Boz in dismay. “Perhaps I made a mistake.”
    But after he counted out the cash against the day’s receipts a second time, the result was the same – they were exactly twenty pounds short.
    “You either gave someone too much change,” Boz said, and shrugged, “or two bills stuck together. No matter – it happens sometimes.”
    “Of course you’ll take it out of my pay,” Emma told him firmly. “It’s my fault, after all.”
    “No. It’s an honest mistake, Em, and one we’ve all made at one time or another.” Boz shut the cash drawer. “Just be careful in the future when you make change, and make sure the new notes don’t stick together.”
    “I will do, I promise.” Guiltily, Emma remembered her distraction while waiting on the man in the bespoke suit. She’d forgotten to mention the coconut-toasted doughnuts, had barely been able to string a sentence together, and in the face of his engaging personality had quite lost the thread of what she was doing. “I’m
so
sorry.”
    “Don’t worry about it, love.” He smiled. “Help me and Viv clean up the kitchen, and then you’re free to go. And grab a couple of cream horns for your dad on the way out.”
    ***
    “So, tell me – how was your first day at the bakery?” Mr Bennet asked an hour later as he and Emma shared a cup of tea and cream horns at the kitchen table.
    “Fine, until it was time to cash out.”
    She told him about coming up twenty pounds short. “The notes Boz gave me were new,” she finished morosely, “and two of the twenties must’ve stuck together when I gave my customer his change.”
    Mr Bennet nodded. “Perhaps he’ll notice, and come back?”
    “I doubt it. Not that I think he’d deliberately keep the money – he certainly didn’t seem to
need
it,” Emma added. “But he didn’t even glance at the notes before he put them away in his wallet.”
    “File it away under ‘lessons learned’, and be more careful in future,” her father advised. “Perhaps,” he added thoughtfully as he picked up his pastry, “I’ll bake Boz some scones to show my appreciation.”
    “Daddy, he bakes dozens of scones every day.”
    “Oh. Yes.” He looked deflated. “No use carrying coals to Newcastle, I suppose.”
    She leaned forward and laid her hand on his. “Why don’t you make some for us? And we’ll need a couple of dozen more for Lizzy’s party, too.”
    “Right you are.” He set his cup down with a purposeful click. “Of course everyone will want scones.” He reached out for the pad of paper and pencil by the sugar bowl and drew it forward. “Hmmm…what do you think, Emma? A dozen savoury, and a dozen sweet?”
    ***
    Martine arrived at Litchfield Manor at eight o’clock the following morning, just as Emma attached the lead to Elton’s collar to take him for a walk.
    “Off for a stroll outside with Miss Em, are you, Mr E?” the girl asked, and set her purse aside to kneel down to pet and coo over the dog.
    “It’s stopped raining and the sun’s out,” Emma said. “We’re taking advantage of it while it lasts.”
    She eyed Martine’s leggings and faded Rolling Stones T-shirt with a barely concealed shudder and reminded herself to start on her makeover, and soon. The girl was in desperate need of an intervention.
    “Mum says she’ll make the curtains for you,” Martine said as she straightened and turned to Emma. “But she won’t hear of you payin’ her for it.”
    “I won’t hear of
not
paying her,” Emma said firmly. “We’ll talk about it when I get back. Oh,” she added as she opened the back door, “I have a few things for you to try on before you go.”
    “For me?” Martine looked doubtful. “I don’t know –”
    “It shouldn’t take long.” Emma’s words were brisk. “I have the most adorable trackies – bright pink, if you can imagine!” She grimaced. “They don’t suit me in the least, but I think they’ll look very well on you.” She eyed the girl’s