A Brush with Death: A Penny Brannigan Mystery - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,2

as she rested her head against his chest. They stepped back and he smiled at her upturned face.

“Right, then,” he said, turning around to retrieve a large bouquet of red and white carnations and two bottles of white wine he’d set down on the front step. “These are for you.”

Penny smiled as she accepted his gifts. “I’ll find a vase for these and put the wine in the fridge,” she said.

“The flowers are for us,” he said, nodding at them. “Red and white flowers for you. Canada, see? And then the red flowers and green ferns for me. The colours of Wales!”

Penny grinned at him.

“Oh, very charming! Did you think that up yourself, or did you have a bit of help?”

Gareth gave her a sheepish grin.

“Well, Bethan did say I was not to arrive empty-handed, but I figured out the bit about the colours myself.”

“Well, they are lovely and it was very sweet of you. And Bethan,” she added.

Bethan Morgan was Gareth’s energetic young sergeant; the three had come to know one another over the summer as Penny helped the two police officers investigate the case of a missing bride.

Gareth stepped into the sitting room and looked around. “Doesn’t seem to me that you’ve got too far. What have you done?”

Penny winced and waved a hand in a vague flap of defeat.

“Ah, like that, is it?”

She nodded.

“You do surprise me. Your old flat was so uncluttered, and I would have thought it would be easy to get rid of someone else’s things because you’ve got no attachment to them. Unless, of course, you just happen to like something. Anyway, I’ve brought a few boxes so we can make a start. We’ll sort it all into piles—one for the charity shop, one for the rubbish, and one for the things you want to keep. I think we should pack up as much as we can so the decorating will be easier. Let’s start with the walls. You’re an artist, so dealing with the paintings shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“You’re right,” agreed Penny. “I know what I like and what can go.” Besides her manicure business, Penny painted scenic watercolours featuring the beautiful landscapes around Llanelen. She loved rambling through the valley, with easel and paintbrushes, capturing the timeless beauty of the deep greens and purples of the ancient, majestic hills that cradled the town.

She pointed to the small watercolour that hung over the desk.

“See that one? It’s the first painting I did when I came to Llanelen. I gave it to Emma to thank her for being so good to me when she gave me a bed for a night or two.” She smiled at him and opened her arms in an expansive gesture that took in the whole room. “And now look what she gave me!”

He removed the painting carefully from its hook and set it on the small table in front of the window, where Penny and Emma had spent many hours solving jigsaw puzzles.

“Right. What’s next?”

She pointed to a pair of Monet prints.

“Charity shop.”

She walked across the room and took down a painting.

“But this one I’ve always liked, and I definitely want to keep it.”

She turned it to show to him and then looked at it again.

“Funny, all the years I’ve seen it and liked it but never had a chance to really look at it up close. It’s rather well done, in my opinion, although it does need a good cleaning.”

The painting was oil on canvas and showed two people at a picnic, a red-and-white checkered cloth spread out on the grass between them. She could make out what looked like a still life on the tablecloth . . . glasses of wine, a bowl of fruit, a cheese plate, and half a loaf of bread on a cutting board, with a bread knife beside it. The people were facing each other, the woman in a flowered summer dress with her legs folded away to the side as she leaned on one hand. The man lay on his back with his feet toward the viewer, his hands tucked under his head. Behind them was a large bank of purple flowers.

“The perspective on this is really excellent, you see,” said Penny, pointing at the male figure. “With him reclining like that it would have been too easy to have him look flat and out of proportion, but the artist has got it just right. I used to ask Emma about this painting, but she wouldn’t tell me anything about