A Brush with Death: A Penny Brannigan Mystery - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,31

hope so. There’s a lot they can do to help.”

“He’s coming,” replied Victoria. “Bronwyn thinks the dog is too delicate to leave just at the minute.”

“Well, fair enough.”

“We’re going to need stadium seating if our little circle continues to grow,” said Victoria as she carried a chair from the dining room into the sitting area. “Who all are you expecting tonight, again?”

“Let’s see. Um, well, Alwynne, you and me, of course, and Bethan and Thomas,” she said, counting them off on her fingers. “So that’s five of us. Gareth isn’t coming. Says he’s just going to leave us to get on with it.”

Victoria set the chair down and wiped off the seat.

“Do I get a sense that things are cooling off a bit there?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s just we’re both a bit preoccupied with other things right now. You and I have the new business, and then there’s this place, and of course the Alys Jones affair. I want to get my wings straight and level before I move on with him. I want everything to be just right. For both of us.”

“Well, don’t leave it too long is my advice, for what it’s worth, or you might find he’s moved on without you,” said Victoria with an emphatic nod. “He won’t wait forever, you know.”

Penny looked startled.

“Gosh, I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I’d better find more time for him. How long until they get here? Good, I’ve got time to make a call. I’ll invite him to come with me on Sunday.”

As she finished speaking, the doorbell rang, and moments later Alwynne entered.

“Evening, Penny,” she said. “Oh, I see you’ve kept the board up. Good! Well, I’ve brought another photo to add to it, and I think you’re going to like it!”

She reached into a carrier bag and brought out a large brown envelope.

“Here you go,” she said as she handed it to Penny, who took it over to the window so she could look at its contents in the early evening light. Alwynne followed her a few moments later and stood silently as Penny withdrew a black-and-white 8 by 10 photo.

The image showed a group of about six teenagers in what looked like an art class. They were grouped around an artfully arranged still-life of fruit, flowers, and a dead bird of some kind, its showy tail feathers trailing mournfully over the edge of the small table.

“Here she is,” said Alwynne softly, pointing to a girl in the centre of the group. Penny was surprised that her hand was trembling a little as she handed the photo back to Alwynne.

“Here,” she said. “Hold it for a moment while I get my glasses.”

A few moments later she examined the photo more closely, her attention focused on the young Alys. She was wearing a school uniform with a crest on the centre of the tunic and a cardigan. She gazed critically at her canvas with a serious look that was difficult to read. Penny couldn’t tell if the girl liked what she saw or was dissatisfied with it. Her head was held at a slight incline and her lips were pressed together in what could be critical contemplation of her work. She seemed deeply absorbed in what she was doing, unaware of or uncaring about the camera. Her dark hair was worn in a fringe over her forehead, and the rest of it, all the same length, was cut just under her ears, giving the appearance of a glossy helmet. Penny turned the photo over, noted the date, and did a quick calculation.

“She would have been about fourteen years old here,” she murmured.

“Sorry, what did you say?” asked Alwynne, leaning closer.

Penny repeated herself and Alwynne nodded.

“That was taken at the old school. The art teacher’s widow donated a lot of his old photos. He was an amateur photographer and enjoyed taking photos of his pupils. Even had a little darkroom at the school and developed the negatives and made the prints himself. Of course, they’re both gone now, but it was good of her to pass the photos on to us. You can see how immensely valuable they are. I much prefer the old prints myself to the new digital things that people sometimes e-mail us. Not sure what to do with them. If I save them on a computer, no one will ever see them probably.”

After a tactful pause, she added, “So if you do come across any photos in Emma’s things that you think have