The next day. Larissa must have had a terrible bout of overnight indigestion after her verbal stoush with the evil amoral nasty ruthless developer Nick. No doubt she smouldered at home after the encounter, knocking back a bottle or two of Oomoo. What's going to happen next? Will she be throwing herself in front of the bulldozers? Wll Nick sabotage her ferry? Will they exchange poisoned vanilla slices at the bakery? read on...
Chapter Three
With a loud clatter the gangway was thrown onto the jetty. A crew member jumped nimbly off the boat, and tied it securely into position. The captain stepped back, and passengers began filing off the ferry.
Larissa went up to her. “Morning, Caroline. It looks as though you had a capacity load again this morning.”
Her employee turned to face her. “Hello, Larissa. Yes, we were full. We also brought some freight across as well, which should put us well into the black for today.”
“Good news, Any problems – anything I should know about?”
“No, but there is something for you, though, It’s on the bridge – I’ll get it.”
“No, it’s alright, I’ll fetch it. You better make a start on unloading all those bikes – there must be dozens of them.”
Caroline gave a rueful smile. “Quite a few, aren’t there! Well, it’s good exercise for the crew.”
“Right,” Larissa agreed with a grin. She eased her way along the gangway and went upstairs to the bridge. As she entered she saw a huge bunch of flowers – yellow carnations. Picking them up, she noticed a note was attached. It read: Larissa – sorry I upset you. All forgiven now? Marjorie.
She smelled the flowers – they were lovely. If her sister wanted to mend the relationship with her the she certainly knew the most effective way of doing so. Smiling to herself, Larissa thought perhaps she’d been a little too harsh with her older sibling. She would ring her later today and say so, and also thank her for the flowers.
She left the Daisy, and walked along the jetty. The passengers were streaming off, eager to explore the island and enjoy themselves. She stopped at the office and put the carnations in a vase, filling it with water. Her assistant Frances, working at her desk, caught sight of them as she placed them on the reception counter.
“What lovely flowers! Are they from someone tall, dark and handsome?”
Larissa chuckled. “I wish. No, they’re from Marjorie. I’ll leave them her to brighten up the place. See you later.”
She left the office and strolled back to her cottage. It was another beautiful summer day, and the sunlight streamed through the branches of the big Moreton bay fig trees that lined the road. With her morning’s walk complete, Larissa had decided to go on an excursion. With a packed lunch and dressed in a sleeveless polar fleece and khaki cargo pants over a bikini, she set out to cycle all the way out to the other end of Rottnest – to the West End. It was a longish trip – about 25 kilometres there and back – but she thought it was about time she had a decent spell of exercise.
After putting her lunch in a bag and filling a water bottle she wheeled out her bike from behind the cottage. She gave it an appraising look. She had had the same bike for years now. It was a ten-speed racer, which ran very well. It had once been a brightfire-engine red, but due to the extensive use it had seen, plus the odd bash and scrape, it was now a little dilapidated.
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