Finding Home by Kate Field (read book .txt) 📗

spun with images of Robbie the chef and Beryl the cleaner, before Bea swung the door open and ushered Mim inside. And there, sitting on the sofa in front of a tray of tea and cake, was Gordon’s daughter, Yvonne, absolutely the last person that Mim could wish to see. A friend? It wasn’t the word Mim would have used.

Yvonne regarded Mim, a satisfied smirk on her face.

‘What are you doing here?’ Mim asked. She couldn’t believe it. Was this a joke? A journalist would have been a thousand times better than this.

‘Tracked you down, haven’t I?’ Yvonne replied. ‘Shouldn’t have sold your story to the press and splashed your face across the papers if you were trying to hide.’

‘I’m not hiding.’ Mim looked at Yvonne with a growing feeling of unease. What was she doing here? She wasn’t about to offer a donation to the charity, that much was clear.

‘Mim dear, who is this?’ Bea asked. She couldn’t have missed the frosty atmosphere in the room. ‘Is she not a friend of yours?’

‘Absolutely not. This is Yvonne, Gordon’s daughter.’

‘The one who threw you out onto the streets without so much as a reference?’ Bea marched over to Yvonne and whisked the cup and saucer from her hand. She picked up the tray of cakes and carried it to the opposite side of the room. Mim could have hugged her for the gesture.

‘How dare you infiltrate my house under false pretences,’ Bea said. She had never sounded so posh.

‘It’s this one you want to watch in your house,’ Yvonne said, pointing at Mim. ‘Don’t believe whatever sob story she’s told you. She wormed her way in with my dad, a man twice her age, in the hope of inheriting our hotel. And now she’s had the nerve to tell the press that I treated her badly by getting rid of her! She probably has her eye on this place now. Don’t trust her if you have a husband or son.’

It shouldn’t still hurt to hear such things, but it did. Yvonne lived in Bristol and had rarely visited Gordon at the hotel. Mim had been happily installed there for over a year before Yvonne had discovered her existence and, jealous of her relationship with Gordon, had accused her of sleeping with him to obtain the hotel. Gordon had set her straight but the suspicion had never gone away and, if anything, had worsened when it was Mim who had been with Gordon when he died. Yvonne had inherited everything so why was she pursuing her vendetta? There could be no benefit now, nothing in it for Yvonne but the satisfaction of seeing Mim upset. Did she really hate her so much?

‘I think it’s high time you left my house,’ Bea said. She held the door open, waiting.

‘I’m going nowhere until I’ve got what I came for,’ Yvonne said. ‘I couldn’t believe it when I read in the paper about her sleeping in her car. Her car! That car belonged to my father and now it belongs to me.’

‘It’s worth next to nothing,’ Mim said. She knew; she’d had it valued when she’d lost her job, but it hadn’t been worth selling. ‘You’ve can’t have come all this way for that?’

‘Not just for the car. I want the watch too.’ Yvonne looked at Bea. ‘My dad had a gold Rolex watch that meant the world to him. He always wore it.’ Her voice shook. ‘I want it to remember him by. I scoured the hotel from top to bottom and it wasn’t there. She must have stolen it. It’s worth at least ten grand.’

‘You silly woman,’ Bea said. ‘Why would she be living in poverty if she had an expensive watch in her possession?’

‘All part of the act, isn’t it? Perhaps she’s not had time to sell it yet. I want the police to be called.’

Bea glanced at Mim, picked up her phone and left the room. Yvonne smiled. Mim gazed out of the window, seeing nothing. Was Bea actually calling the police? How could Bea think her capable of this?

Bea didn’t return for almost ten minutes and when she did, Corin was at her side. Mim hadn’t seen him since the day of the charity launch. She’d tried to find him, to apologise for overreacting during their conversation about Henry Burrows, but Lia had said he was away helping on another school expedition. He looked at her now and didn’t smile. That hurt even more than Bea’s reaction. She’d thought they were friends, that they had a connection, despite their silly argument. He couldn’t believe this, could he?

‘Is he police?’ Yvonne asked.

‘He’s my son,’ Bea said.

‘Ha!’ Yvonne laughed. ‘That answers the question of whose bed she shares in this house. Didn’t I tell you what she was like?’

‘I think we’ve heard enough from you.’ Mim had never heard Corin sound so angry. It did the trick. Yvonne fell silent at last. ‘Let’s sort this out now. Mim, do you know anything about a gold watch?’

‘Yes.’ Three faces turned to her, one triumphant and two surprised. ‘Gordon did have a Rolex watch. It was the most valuable thing he owned, apart from the hotel.’

‘You see?’ Yvonne stood up. ‘When she didn’t get the hotel, she took the watch. Have you called the police?’

‘No.’ Corin shut her down with a look. ‘Did you take the watch, Mim?’

‘Yes,’ she said. Yvonne’s snort of triumph echoed round the room. Corin’s gaze didn’t falter. Mim looked straight back at him. ‘I took it to the pawn shop two years ago, at Gordon’s request, and I haven’t seen it since.’

‘There you go. The case is closed.’ Corin gestured at the door. ‘Perhaps now you would care to leave us alone and take your squalid accusations with you.’

He believed her, just like that? Mim could have kissed him – in a strictly platonic way. Unfortunately, Yvonne wasn’t so easily convinced.

‘We only have her word for it,’ she said, but she didn’t sound as confident as she had