James
Back at the house the workmen are packing up and leaving for the day. A solitary drill whines out from somewhere-or-other and Michael is standing at the front with a hard-hatted individual, alternately tracing out some detail on the plans spread out in front of them, then pointing out to the hotel and painting lines in the air. As we drive by he waves and smiles, and Charlotte bursts into a sunbeam smile.
“Why don't you go through to the hotel and have a bath while we're waiting for Michael. The workmen should have left, and you'll have some privacy." I suggest. “I'll get the meal on."
“Don't you want some help with that, Master?" She peers across at where I am chopping onions.
“No, it'll only take me ten minutes to get it cooking. You go and relax. I can see you're tired."
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