Free A Brit on the Side (Castle Calder Book 1) by Brenda St John Brown

Fisher voodoo doll, just for kicks.”
    This gets a smile out of me. Scarlett’s solution to people who piss her off is to make crude voodoo dolls and stick a pin straight through their eye. The dolls don’t work – at least not that I know of – but there’s no denying it’s therapeutic.
    Claire laughs. “You still do that? God, I totally forgot about you and your voodoo.”
    Mrs. St Julien says, “I’m almost tempted to join you.”
    “You should,” Scarlett says. Then to me she says, “If you get a bottle of red from the bar, we’ll take it up to my room and see if we can make one that actually works.”
    I smile for the first time in hours. “Did you actually bring your stuff with you?”
    “I didn’t, but I have a stash here too.” Scarlett grins. “My first ever doll was inspired by a guest much like Angela Fisher, in fact.”
    “Victoria Edmonson,” says Mrs. St Julien. “If ever there was a woman I wanted to push down the stairs, it was her.”
    Scarlett puts on her best proper British accent. “Oh, Hannah, be a dear and bring my tea to my room at four o’clock. I expect one biscuit, not two, and please be sure to warm my teacup.”
    Mrs. St Julien laughs, followed immediately by a grimace. “All that false politeness. I ran my arse off for that woman, and then she had the nerve to dispute her bill. I remember Paul couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t take any further bookings from her.”
    “I’m glad I wasn’t here then,” Claire says. “I feel like I’ve been scarred badly enough by the Fishers to last a lifetime.”
    “The Fishers aren’t so bad, aside from Angela,” Mrs. St Julien says. “Which is why we keep taking their bookings.”
    “Well, it doesn’t mean we have to like her,” Scarlett says. Then she turns to me. “So? Wine, voodoo dolls, general merriment? Are you in?”
    I nod because otherwise I’ll end up going back to my room and sulking. “Yep. I’ll get the wine and meet you upstairs.”
    I turn out the door as Scarlett calls, “Get four glasses in case Mum fancies some, would you?”
    I smile a little and try to imagine my mom making voodoo dolls with Scarlett and me. She’d be appalled, at least partly because her Southern manners don’t allow her to actually say she dislikes someone outright. She’d more likely narrow her eyes and clutch at her purse, but keep a smile on her face.
    Being nice to someone you dislike doesn’t mean you’re fake. It means you’re mature enough to tolerate your dislike towards them.
    I head into the bar as that gem of my mom’s hits home and I give myself a mental high five. Chalk one up for maturity on my part. I deserve a damn Oscar for the way I’ve dealt with Angela Fisher all night.
    It makes me put on a big smile for Will, who’s still behind the bar pulling pints for some of the Fisher gentlemen. “Hi. I’d like a bottle of red and four glasses, if I could, please?”
    Will nods. “Sure thing. Who’s drinking?”
    “Scarlett, Claire, and me. Maybe Hannah.” Mrs. St Julien’s first name sounds weird coming from my mouth, but not impossible, which feels a lot like progress.
    “Malbec then. Hannah’s favorite. Claire’s too,” Will says.
    My ears perk up. Will knows Claire’s favorite wine? Surely that’s a good sign? “Sounds perfect.”
    “You want me to open it?” Will asks.
    “No. The last thing I need is to be carrying an open bottle of wine up those stairs.” I wonder if there’s a way to steer the conversation back to Claire, but I can’t think of anything that doesn’t sound completely obvious. So I lean over the bar and, keeping my voice low, say, “Good luck with these guys.”
    Will grins and says, “They’ll be fine. They’re just blowing off some steam.”
    “Can’t say I blame them,” I say, brandishing the bottle of wine.
    Will’s laugh follows me out of the bar until I reach the stairs leading up to the family apartment. I didn’t see Jasper in the bar and I’m really