Rebellion of a Chalet Girl
LORRAINE WILSON
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015
Copyright © Lorraine Wilson 2015
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Ebook Edition © March 2015 ISBN: 9780007558353
Version 2015-03-06
In memory of Celia Cady, 'mother' and lifeline to many.
Also special thanks to both the lovely team at Harper Impulse and to Catherine and Dawn for everything.
Contents
Okay, Tash got it. There were some very important people coming to stay at Chalet Repos.
Blah-de-blah.
Did they really need yet another 'briefing' from Holly? And since when had she taken to scheduling briefings into the day anyway? You cleaned, you cooked and you were always polite to the guests. Even when they really, really hacked you off and you were hung-over. There wasn't much more to it, surely?
Tash could do this job in her sleep. Sometimes it felt like she almost did.
She nestled back into the comfy brown leather sofa and yawned. It'd been a late one last night and even once she'd got to bed she hadn't slept much. But then she caught Holly's gimlet eye and shrugged sheepishly in reply.
"So, you all get how important this is, right?" Holly asked, perched on the edge of an armchair covered with a faux fur throw, one hand resting lightly on her barely visible bump.
Everything's changing around here. Holly's pregnant, Sophie's moved out and engaged. And now we're having 'briefings.' Not to mention the rumours about the other changes that might be coming.
A wave of panic swelled in her chest, threatening to submerge her. Why couldn't things stay the same?
Tash's gaze fell on Rebecca, Sophie's replacement. Rebecca's high blonde ponytail bobbed up and down as she nodded earnestly at Holly, bright lipsticked smile in place. Amelia and Lucy also appeared bright-eyed, if not quite so bushy-tailed. Tash glanced back at Rebecca's hair. You didn't get hair that sleek and bouncy using supermarket’s own-brand shampoo and dying it yourself over the bathroom sink.
Tash examined one of her own split ends with a sigh. She didn't give a flying snow fairy what anyone thought about the home-dyed pink stripes on her mousy hair but it might be nice to get her hair done properly one day. If she could ever afford it.
"Tash?" Holly asked, eyebrows raised, a mixture of impatience and concern in her eyes.
"Um, no, not so much…" Tash admitted. "Aren't all our clients important? And I think we're pretty nice to them already. Just how extra nice do you want us to be exactly?"
She smirked and Amelia and Lucy sniggered. Only Rebecca remained straight-faced, hands folded primly on her lap.
Maybe the rich pay to have their sense of humour surgically removed too?
Holly