Page 55 of Return to the Waratah Inn

“That’s a savoury muffin. It has cheese and ham in it.”

Marc grimaced and threw the remainder of the muffin to the ground, then spat out his mouthful. The piece landed on Simone’s foot.

“Marc! Don’t spit or throw your food,” Reeda gasped.

Simone growled. “That’s gross!” Then she reached for a scone and pegged it at Marc’s head, leaving a smudge of jam and cream across his forehead.

Marc yelped, then grabbed a scone and slapped it against his sister’s face.

Reeda stepped between the two of them, holding out her hands to separate them. “Stop it! Don’t throw food. Stop that right now.”

But it was too late. Neither one of them listened. Simone screamed in anger and picked up slices of apple to throw at her brother, who filled his hands with caramel slice and ran to the other end of the pool, giggling with glee.

Reeda watched in horror, her hands pressed to her hips. “Come back over here and put it away. We don’t waste good food.” She rushed over to the children and attempted to grab the snacks from their hands, but they giggled, squealed and leapt out of her way, throwing the baked goods and fruit at one another like ammunition.

Marc leapt into the pool mid-throw, caramel slice going everywhere. It floated momentarily then sank like tiny, sweet warships into the cool blue depths all around his flailing legs.

Reeda was gobsmacked. She’d run out of words and energy. The past few days had sucked the very life out of her, and she had come to her end. What did she do now? She couldn’t very well tackle them both. She’d be arrested for child battery. Her words had done nothing so far—why should that change?

She spun to face Simone, who stood with a smirk pressed to her lips. She arched an eyebrow and then flung a cream-covered scone at Reeda’s chest. It left a smear down the front of her elegant black swimsuit. She watched in horror, feeling utterly powerless.

“You’re both in so much trouble,” she said, knowing full well how empty her words must’ve sounded to them. Even to her own ears, she could hear the tremor in her voice and understood her lack of power in that moment. They were out of control, and she didn’t know what to do about it.

Simone tittered, then tossed a piece of apple at Reeda as she ran past. The apple hit Reeda in the eye as Simone launched herself into the pool, the bomb she landed sending pool water spraying all over Reeda. It soaked her hair and into her swimsuit, making the cream run down her torso in a wobbly line.

Reeda pressed her hands to her hips and glowered at them both as they squealed and splashed in the pool, with food strewn throughout the water and over the pool bottom beneath them.

“Get out of that pool now and clean up this mess!”

After a few moments, Simone said, “Come on,” and her brother followed her out of the pool. Reeda felt a momentary rush of gratitude. But it was soon squashed when Simone grabbed Carly’s hand, and the three of them ran out of the pool area, through the gate, and up the stairs into the back of the Waratah Inn, leaving a trail of puddles and smashed food scraps in their wake.

“Oh, no! The inn!” Reeda muttered beneath her breath. She hurried after them, leaving everything behind in her haste. It wasn’t difficult to locate them. All she had to do was follow the wet footprints. They were snuggled up on the suede leather couch in the TV room watching a cartoon when she caught up to them. Reeda spotted chocolate smushed into the arm of the cream-coloured sofa. She grimaced and her chest tightened as anger boiled inside of her.

“Get off that sofa! You’re getting it wet, and it’s made of suede! Do you know how expensive that piece was?” She’d picked it out herself from an Italian importer. They’d given her a discount due to her connections in the interior design industry, but it was worth a small fortune as far as couches were concerned. She couldn’t wrap her head around their disrespect—she felt as though she might explode. She had to get out of there or she’d say something she’d regret.

With a slow blink, followed by another, she turned on her heel and stalked from the room. She made her way to the office, hoping for some privacy and quiet in order to gather her thoughts, but found Kate there with the baby strapped to her chest, sleeping. Kate tapped at the keyboard for a few moments, then glanced up. Her smile faded when she saw the state Reeda was in.

“Why are you in swimmers? What’s that all over you? Oh, no. What’s wrong?” Her eyes widened as she focused her attention on Reeda’s face—no doubt it was as red as a beetroot, given how Reeda felt. She stood and hurried around the desk to place an arm on Reeda’s shoulder, her eyes full of compassion.

A lump formed in Reeda’s throat, but she resisted the urge to cry. She couldn’t let the children see her come to pieces. They’d win, and she didn’t know much about parenting, but she was pretty sure that would impact their respect for her, which was already at a dangerous low.

“The kids had a food fight in the pool,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Then they ran into the TV room, sat on the suede couch and rubbed their grimy, food-covered hands all over it while dripping pool water everywhere. And I can’t get them to listen or do anything I tell them.”

Kate shook her head. “Come on. Let’s go and talk to them.”

Reeda followed Kate as she strode to the TV room, past the guests reading in the library and eating afternoon tea in the breakfast nook. The children were where she’d left them, a little more subdued now as they watched an episode of Round the Twist, where some magic underwear had given Pete superspeed. Reeda had seen the episode years earlier when she was babysitting for a friend back in Sydney. It was a good show, but she had to stay focused. The children were fixated on the screen and hadn’t looked her way since she entered the room. She really needed to go outside and get some clothes on—the guests had begun giving her strange looks. She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped one foot on the floor.

“Children, look over here, please!”

They ignored her.

Kate found the remote and switched off the television. All of the children cried out in complaint and spun to face them with angry expressions.

“Hey!” Simone said, her face thunderous. “We were watching that.”

Kate shook her head. “Not anymore. You all need to get off this couch. I will give you some towels to wipe it down with. Then you’re going outside to clean up the mess you made in the pool. This inn belongs to me and my family, and that includes Reeda. She has taken you in, given you a roof over your head, and you will show her some respect. You’ll also show this inn the respect it deserves.”

“Or what?” Marc asked, his brow furrowed.