Up To No Good: Book 4 Georgie B. Goode Gypsy Caravan Cozy Mystery Read Free Page B

ten minutes, wishing she were anywhere else. The moment she arrived, her great-grandmother had launched into an indignant account of how people were treating her like a baby and she didn’t need mollycoddling and they just didn’t breed people tough any more. Over in her easy chair by the window, with her sprained ankle up on an ottoman, she was still venting. Her unfortunate day nurse, overwhelmingly grateful to be told to go and take an hour off away from Rosa’s interminable grumbles, had just scurried out of the door.
    “As though I need a nurse,” Rosa griped. “A nurse. Waste of good money. Your father knows I’m capable of looking after myself.”
    “Of course you are,” Georgie agreed, carrying in a tray with two teapots and cups and the carrot cake that Rosa favored. “When you don’t have a sprained ankle. But right now you need a bit of help. Remember what the doctor said: the last thing you need is to fall and break a hip.”
    Rosa wasn’t feeling receptive to common sense. She waved that away with a disgusted ‘Pah!” and accepted a cup of tea. “Did you warm the pot first? And let it steep?”
    “Yes, I know you like it strong.” Georgie put a plate with a slice of cake on the side table next to Rosa, and picked up the second teapot and poured her own tea, inhaling the delicate fragrance of Earl Grey.
    Rosa eyed the second teapot with disfavor. “When did you start drinking that perfumed muck?”
    “Layla converted me.” Georgie grinned. “You haven’t met Layla yet. She’s on our road team for retro trailers.” She sat in the chair opposite Rosa and sipped, closing her eyes in appreciation. “Lovely. How’s yours?”
    Rosa tried hers. “It’s good enough, I suppose.”
    “You must be pretty bored, sitting here all day. Dad tells me you’re supposed to be still confined to bed. I can imagine how well that suggestion went down.”
    “I don’t know why I can’t go to the RV yard. At least there’s always something happening there.”
    “There are trucks and RVs moving around all the time; while you’re indisposed, you can’t get out of the way quickly.”
    “I could sit in the showroom, or the waiting room.”
    There was no way Georgie was going to win this one. Rosa was grumpy and still suffering some pain, and she was going to let the world know it.
    Time to change the subject.
    “The crystal ball,” she said. “It’s not working for me.”
    “I was wondering when we’d get to that.”
    Georgie put her head on the side and sent Rosa a quizzical glance. “You already knew?”
    “Not for sure, but it’s been harder for me to get through and know what you’re up to.” Rosa shrugged. “It was always going to happen.”
    Georgie felt her shoulders relax as a surge of relief swept through her. “So it’s not just me? It happened to you too?”
    “Happens to pretty much anyone who uses a crystal ball,” Rosa said. “Sometimes I sit back and picture the Gods sitting up there in the clouds somewhere, having a great old laugh at our expense. Lying around and eating grapes and drinking mead and talking about how humans always expect to have their questions answered.” Without thinking, she went to move her foot away from the ottoman, then winced and wriggled in discomfort. “Damned ankle. We don’t appreciate being mobile until we’re not.”
    Georgie sat forward. “Can I get you another cushion for your leg?”
    “No, then it’s too high. Don’t worry about it,” Rosa snapped. She was silent for a moment and then said abruptly, “Sorry. I’m a pain in the rear end, I know.”
    In a flash Georgie went from being irritated by her to feeling guilty. She could only imagine what it must be like to be ninety-three—or was it ninety-four?—and confined to a chair with a sprained ankle. Difficult at any age, but much harder when you were older.
    “Don’t give it a thought,” she said. “I don’t like having to sit still for long myself. Which makes things