A Brush with Death: A Penny Brannigan Mystery - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,38
book. “Let’s start here. Our first client should be here in about twenty minutes, so we need to make sure everything’s ready for her. You’ll find that we leave the shop tidy before we close for the night so everything is pretty much ready to go when we open in the morning. That’ll be your last job of the day. Still, there are always a few last-minute things to do in the morning.
“And your first task can be to put the kettle on. Mine’s a coffee with a little bit of extra milk and a sweetener, and you can ask Victoria if she wants one. You won’t mind brewing up for us and the clients, will you? And yourself, too, of course! You’ll find everything in the little pantry just beside the supply cupboard. Oh, the supply cupboard! Well, we’ll get to that later.”
Penny smiled to herself as Eirlys bustled off on her first task. If Eirlys did as well as she thought she would, Penny was glad to give her the work, and as soon as Eirlys was able to take on more responsibility, she’d have more time for what she really wanted to do. Victoria’s time, of course, would soon be totally taken up managing the renovations for the new spa building, and she would be spending very little time in the salon. After a quick welcoming word with Eirlys, Victoria had already left on the short walk to the site to meet with the surveyor who would be doing the building inspection.
Penny had wanted to discuss the Gareth situation with Victoria, but there’d been no time this morning, and after the call from Thomas last night, she’d had other things to think about.
Penny planned to show Eirlys the ropes and then, if she was doing well, leave her for an hour or so while she went upstairs and made a few phone calls.
The September morning was just about perfect. A few wisps of fluffy clouds swept across a bright blue sky. A gentle breeze played with the hem of Victoria’s scarf as she walked across the cobbled town square on her way to the riverfront building that she and Penny hoped would soon become their new spa. Both felt somewhat apprehensive at the amount of money the conversion would cost, but they were confident that the numbers in their business plan would hold. Of course, one couldn’t plan for a recession or other economic downturns, but all things considered, with the recent revival of tourism to North Wales and the increased demand for spa treatments, they believed in their future.
As she passed the Red Dragon Hotel, Victoria considered popping in for a moment to say hello to Mrs. Geraint, the day desk clerk. In a few weeks Victoria could well be approaching the hotel manager to ask if he would consider partnering with them to provide light meals and overnight accommodations for the spa’s out-of-town guests. She thought he would probably leap at the chance, and now might be a good time to begin softening them up because she and Penny would also want the hotel to refurbish guest rooms for spa clients.
But she decided to leave that for another day and kept going. She was almost past the entrance to the hotel when she noticed a familiar figure emerging from the front door. It was Gareth and he was not alone. A smiling woman walked confidently beside him. They were not touching, but there was a certain knowing intimacy in the way she was looking up at him that made Victoria’s stomach clench. She quickened her pace and, ducking into the nearest building, found herself in the local organization that promoted the Welsh language. She picked up a brochure and peeked out the window. The pair walked toward the street, and Gareth helped the woman into her car. He then set off in the direction of the Red Dragon car park, presumably to find his own vehicle.
Victoria gave the young man who ran the operation a weak smile.
“Are you interested in taking Welsh lessons, then?” he asked pleasantly. “We hold them every week in the community centre, and I’m sure there would be a time that would suit you. We do afternoon and evening classes. It’s not as difficult as you might think,” he added helpfully.
Thinking of the endless string of strange consonant combinations and the difficulty she had in pronouncing even the simplest of Welsh words, Victoria declined.