‘It’s fairly self–explanatory.’ Rhodri waved his arm around, and Isabel nodded.
‘It’s nice.’
‘Ah it’s a bit clinical. I’ve been busy getting the gallery up and running. I haven’t had much time to put my stamp on the living quarters yet, but it’s functional.’
‘Do you own the building then?’
‘I do, yes. I bought it last year from a lovely old lady, Miss Downer who’d lived here her whole life. I wanted a sea change from London, and this place was perfect. Come on, I’ll show you your room if you decide to take it.’
They carried on up the stairs to where there were three bedrooms, the smaller one of which was being used as a study. The bathroom was at the end of the hall. He gestured to a door open just enough for her to see a neatly made bed. He was obviously a tidy sort of a person, Isabel thought, and she could be too when she put her mind to it
‘Here you go,’ he said, pushing open the door to a perfectly acceptable room with a faintly nautical feel about it thanks to the blue curtains and blue and white duvet on the small double bed. There was a dressing table against the wall and a freestanding wardrobe. A small set of drawers were beside the bed with a lamp on top of it.
It would do nicely, Isabel thought, providing the price was right. ‘Erm, so how much are you looking for?’
‘Eighty pounds a week. It’s the going rate around here.’
Isabel worked out what she could expect to earn a week from the Rum Den; it was doable.
‘Do you cook?’ Rhodri asked.
‘Not if I can help it.’
He laughed.
Even his laugh had a musical quality, Isabel thought wondering if she’d just sabotaged her chances.
‘That’s alright then because I’ll do you a deal. I love cooking. It's my way of unwinding at the end of the day, so if you’re happy to do the washing up—’
‘Would we split the food bill and the amenities?’ Isabel interrupted liking the sound of this arrangement.
‘We would. What do you reckon then?’
‘I’d like to take it, thanks.’
‘Great.’ Rhodri held out his hand, and she shook it feeling very pleased with the way her morning had panned out even if she hadn’t had any luck as to locating Constance as yet. ‘Welcome to Pier View House, Isabel.’
‘Ooh, a house with a name. I’ve never lived in one of those before. Wait until I tell my mum, she’ll be well impressed, she always wanted to call our house Maybush Mews, but Dad wouldn’t have a bar of it.’
Rhodri grinned, and she was reminded of someone. It took her a second, but it came to her - Ben Affleck that was it.
Oblivious to the fact he’d just been likened to a Hollywood actor, Rhodri chatted on, ‘Miss Downer shared a bit of Pier View House’s history with me before she moved to Sea Vistas—it’s a retirement home just down the road. The gallery downstairs used to be the Downer’s family’s haberdashery shop. It opened just after World War One and survived World War Two. Miss Downer never married, and she helped run the business until her parents passed away. She told me there wasn’t much call for haberdashery once the big supermarkets began opening on the island, and that she had to think outside the square if she was going to stay in business. Apparently, she is a firm believer in the power of herbs to heal, so she began selling natural remedies which were very popular with locals and tourist alike. There was talk amongst the locals of her being a witch, and that of course added to her allure. She’s a bit of a marvel really because she ran Constance’s Curealls until she was well into her eighties and was quite the fixture around these parts. People are always popping in to ask after her.’
Isabel’s mouth fell open. That was what had been tickling at the back of her mind. Brenda had mentioned Constance had owned a herbal shop that was now an art gallery. She felt a surge of excitement. ‘What did you say the name of the retirement home Constance moved into was?
Chapter 8
‘I didn’t ring to talk to the dog, Mum,’ Isabel shouted down her mobile hoping her mum would hear her and remove the mouthpiece from the vicinity of Prince Charles. The dog’s howl was both deafening and mournful. She was standing outside A Leap of Faith. There was no time to call in on Constance today to see if she was the one and same woman that Ginny had asked her to find. It would have to wait until first thing tomorrow. She only had ten minutes before she was due back at the Rum Den.
Her shouting had the desired effect, and Bab Stark cheerily stated, ‘Ah, he misses you, Bel. I’m telling you it’s pathetic to see him like this. He’s pining. You’d only just got home, and you were off again. I’ve had to buy him doggy treats to try and cheer him up. He’ll send your father and I, broke with all the Tasty Tidbits he’s chomping through even with my in-store discount.’
‘It’s only been a day Mum, and he’s spoilt, that’s the problem. He’s the second child you never got to have.’ She studied her thumbnail. Biting her nails was a habit she’d never been able to break. She’d have loved a brother or a sister growing up, someone to take the focus off
