‘It’s good for the garden that, isn’t it? Seaweed’s even better, though.’ A gent walking his dog nodded toward the bottle in her hand while the labrador pulled at its lead eager to be on its way.
He must have watched her scooping it up out of the sea, Isabel realised.
‘Brings my carrots along a proper treat does seaweed.’
She smiled at him. ‘Oh, I’m not using it for my garden. I’m going to try it on my eczema.’
He rubbed his chin, with his free hand. ‘Eczema, you say? Stop pulling, Riley, old boy.’
Isabel nodded brushing the sand off her feet.
‘My wee granddaughter has a bit of bother with that. She’s only nine, poor love, and it drives her mad not being able to scratch it. Her mother’s even resorted to putting socks on her hands at times. I’d like to know how you get on with that.’ He nodded toward the bottle. ‘Can I give you my mobile number?’
Isabel was a little taken aback but couldn’t see any harm in giving him a quick call as to whether her remedies were successful or not. ‘I’m using it in conjunction with a few other bits and pieces I picked up from the herbal shop up the road there.’ She gestured vaguely in the direction from which she’d walked down to the water before putting the bottle down. She dug her phone out of her pocket while he chatted away.
‘My name’s Don, and this impatient mutt is Riley. Say hello Riley.’
Isabel gave the panting Riley a wary pat. One canine admirer was quite enough thank you very much, before entering the number Don relayed into her contacts. ‘Okay then, I’d best be on my way, but I’ll be sure and give you a call Don to let you know if any of this stuff helps.’
‘That’d be great, thank you, lass. Come on now, Riley.’
͠
‘Ow, ow, ow,’ Isabel moaned into the bathroom mirror, as she spritzed the sea water onto her neck. The salty bite stung but was bearable, only just. She’d put a pot stuffed with horsetail herbs on to boil as soon as she’d raced up the stairs, grateful Rhodri was busy downstairs. He’d been talking to a customer when she’d breezed past, and had given her a passing wave. She hadn’t wanted to hang around explaining what she was about to do, eager just to get on with the task at hand. She wanted to tell someone about her visit with Constance though, and so as soon as she’d hung her damp jeans over the clothes rack, she rang her mum.
‘You’re doing what?’ Babs asked.
‘I am boiling horsetail herbs up in a big pot to pour into my bath.’
‘Why? And what are you doing having a bath in the middle of the day? You’re not royalty you know. Oh dear, Prince Charles has just had an accident. Outside now! It’s the second time since you left. Shoo, off you go.’
Isabel heard the door shut and then her mum came back on the line.
‘I think it’s anxiety from you leaving again. Give me a sec to mop this up will you?’
‘Hey, don’t blame me for your incontinent corgi,’ Isabel said knowing it had fallen on deaf ears. She trawled through the drawers until she found what she was looking for, a wooden spoon.
‘Right, that’s sorted. So come on then tell me what on earth it is you’re up to and more importantly how you got on visiting the woman in the retirement home. Was she your Constance?’
‘She was.’ Isabel relayed the story of the cantankerous Constance and how she’d given nothing away where Ginny was concerned. She also told her how she’d spotted the flare-up on her neck and had suggested a remedy for it. ‘Remember I told you she used to run a herbal remedies shop in the gallery part of Pier View House?’
‘Yes, and you’ve nothing to lose I suppose. I tried rinsing my hair with beer once to give it extra shine, but your dad wasn’t too happy. Said it was a waste of good ale. It worked a treat though. It sounds to me like her snarkiness is because she’s lonely. Your nan was the same, but then she was the one who opted to go to a care facility in flipping Dorset. There was nothing whatsoever wrong with Sunny Days around the corner here.’
Her words echoed Delwyn’s and Jill’s. ‘Jill’s one of the nurses who works at Sea Vistas, said the same thing, Mum. I’m going to go back and see her tell how I get on with this brew.’
‘Let me know and all. One of the ladies at work her son suffers from it something awful too. She’d be interested to hear of an alternative remedy.’
‘Al right Mum, love to Dad. I’ve got to go.’
‘Bye Isabel, and remember to scrub the bath out afterward. You don’t want to mark your card with your chap this early in the piece.’
‘Landlord, not chap mum,’ Isabel said, before hanging up.
She’d turned the element on the stove off. The herbs were giving off a slightly sweetish smell, almost like wet grass, but nothing noxious enough to send Rhodri flying up the stairs to see what she was up too. It felt rather decadent running a bath in the middle of the day, she thought, putting the plug in. It was only going to be tepid so it shouldn’t send the heating bill through the roof. Leaving the bath to fill, she padded
