One Summer in Cornwall by Karen King (best books to read for success .TXT) 📕

Hattie sensed that the woman would’ve liked to ask her more, but there was a queue behind her so she had to move onto the next customer. That was a close shave, she had purposely not told her where she was staying as she didn’t want to upset anyone else who thought she’d neglected her elderly uncle and now couldn’t wait to get her hands on his cottage.

‘Excuse me?’

Hattie turned around. A middle-aged woman with bleached-blond, chin-length hair, and lips coated in bright-red lipstick, was standing behind her. She smiled, her blue, heavily mascaraed eyes looking warm and friendly. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing that you’re a photographer. I’m Mandy. I work on the reception at Gwel Teg, the hotel up the hill. We’ve got a wedding booked there next Saturday and the photographer has just had to pull out because of a family emergency. Would you be able to cover it?’

Wow! Her first commission and she’d only just put the poster in the window. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d covered a wedding, either; she’d been asked by a couple of friends to do the photos for theirs – mates’ rates, of course – and they’d been delighted with the results. Thank goodness she had some of the photos on her Facebook business page.

‘That’s such a shame and so close to the wedding too,’ she said, sympathetically. Exactly a week today! She bet the bride was panicking. ‘I’d love to take the photographs. Would you like to see some samples of my work? I have some on my Facebook page and could also show you some print samples.’ Luckily, she’d brought her sample album with her.

‘Fabulous. I’ll check out your page first. I’m guessing the details are on your poster.’ Mandy smiled. ‘Sue, the manager of the hotel will want to meet you and see samples so it would be good if you could bring some prints then. It’s Sue’s daughter, Ellie, who’s getting married, to Reece, the co-owner of the hotel.’

‘Of course. When would you like me to meet her?’

‘I’m on the afternoon shift today, so how about you pop in about two thirty? Bring your photos to show Sue and we’ll take it from there. Does that sound okay?’

‘Perfect.’ Hattie felt a flutter of excitement. If she got this commission it would look great on her profile and be a big boost for her photography business.

She went back to Fisherman’s Rest feeling much happier. Things were really looking up.

‘Bloody hell. Who is it?’ Buddy squealed as she walked in. That seemed to be his favourite phrase!

‘It’s me, Hattie,’ she replied, putting down her shopping and going over to him. He still didn’t seem to have touched his food, she noticed. Well Mr Obnoxious had been looking after him so she was sure he’d had plenty to eat yesterday. ‘Hello, Buddy,’ she said. ‘Do you remember me? Can you say Hattie? Hello, Hattie.’

Buddy glared at her. ‘Bugger off,’ he replied, then turned his back as if to emphasise that he meant it.

He was a real ray of sunshine, wasn’t he? Hattie thought with a smile. She remembered that Uncle Albert used to let Buddy out sometimes to fly around, and the parrot would perch on his plate and try to eat his food then the old man would swipe him away saying, ‘Bugger off!’ She guessed that’s where Buddy got his language from. He must miss the old man. Maybe she ought to let him out to fly around, but she was worried she wouldn’t get him back in the cage again. If only Marcus wasn’t such a grouch she would pop around and ask him, but the less she saw of that man, the better.

I’ll spend some time with Buddy tonight, she decided. I’ll give him some fresh water and food and have a chat to him. He might perk up with a bit of company. She’d do a google on what parrots liked to eat, too; it must be boring for Buddy to eat pellets all the time, and she was worried that they hadn’t even been touched today. Right now, though, she wanted to sort out her portfolio of photos ready to take to Gwel Teg that afternoon.

By the time Hattie had sorted out her photos and had a bite to eat it was almost time to leave for her appointment at the hotel. She changed into a pair of loose black-and-yellow-print cotton trousers and a yellow cap-sleeved T-shirt and added a touch of make-up to her face, wanting to look casual but professional. Then she googled the directions to Gwel Teg – and, out of curiosity, the meaning of the name, which was ‘Beautiful View’ – and set off for the short walk.

The hotel was situated halfway up the hill, on the corner. It was very pretty and quaint with its white pebble-dash exterior, colourful window boxes, prime location near to the beach and the glorious view to the sea. What a beautiful place to get married in, she thought. She’d read on the hotel website that Gwel Teg did the whole wedding package, with a dedicated room for the ceremony and reception. How wonderful that the manager’s daughter was getting married there.

She went inside and spotted Mandy on reception straight away. ‘Hello, Hattie!’ She waved. ‘Take a seat, lovey, Sue will be here in a few minutes.’

‘Thanks.’ Hattie sat down on the comfy-but-smart long blue sofa and looked around. The reception was clean, bright and modern. There had obviously been some money spent on the hotel in the last couple of years. The wedding package was new, too, she’d noticed; it was something they’d started this Easter. It was a really good idea, she thought; couples could book into the hotel for the wedding, and have their honeymoon here too. She was sure that would be very popular. It was a beautiful part of the country to get married in.

‘Hello, Hattie. I’m Sue Truman, the hotel manager.’

Hattie looked up at the small, dark-haired