‘It’s like somebody was guiding you, Ginny perhaps?’
Now the hairs on Isabel’s arms were standing on end. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
‘Ah, don’t mind me I have an overactive imagination. I’m sure it’s all just coincidence,’ Delwyn said noticing how pale Isabel had gone. ‘I’ve popped into A Leap of Faith a few times; I bought a gorgeous print for my cottage from Rhodri not long after I moved to the island. He’s rather gorgeous too. I’ve seen him out and about a bit with a pretty blonde woman. Is that his girlfriend?’
Nico, Isabel thought shrugging. What was it about blondes? ‘I’m not sure. If it’s who I think it is then her name’s Nico, and she teaches him pottery, but he didn’t introduce her to me as his girlfriend.’
‘He’s a lovely guy, but you get the sense there’s a lot of stuff going on beneath the surface. Do you know what I mean?’
Isabel looked at Delwyn. That overactive imagination of hers was obviously in overdrive. ‘Let me guess. You watch Poldark, right?’
‘Guilty, well, one or two episodes anyway.’
Both women laughed.
‘I’ve meant to pop into the Rum Den for a drink; it looks lovely and quaint. I don’t know many people here yet though, and I’ve been so busy with this,’ she gestured around her shop, ‘it’s not left me much time to socialise.’
‘Well, you’ve met me now so call in anytime, and I’ll reserve a stool at the bar for you.’
‘Thanks, I’ll take you up on that.’ The two women grinned at each other. ‘And I’m pleased Constance suggested you try her recipes and that the products worked for you. Otherwise you might not have come back in to say hi.’
‘It’s the first time I haven’t had to resort to getting a script from the doctor’s for a flare-up when it’s been that bad. It felt good knowing everything I was putting on my skin was natural for a change too.’
Delwyn was nodding. ‘That’s what I’m all about. I want to give people an alternative option. I’d never advocate not going to see a GP, but it's not the only route available for minor ailments.’
‘That’s another reason why I’ve called in again; I’d like to buy more of the same ingredients please.’
‘Stocking up?’
‘No, I still have plenty to be going on with and hopefully I won’t need it for a while. I met this lovely chap near the pier the other day when I was bottling the seawater, and we got chatting. His granddaughter suffers from eczema too, and he asked me to let him know how I got on too. I thought I’d bottle a brew of the horsetail tea and buy some more of the honey for him to pass on to her to see if it’s of any help.’
‘That’s kind of you.’
Isabel shrugged. ‘I know what it’s like to be in her shoes. It’s even worse when you’re a kid, and everyone’s on at you to stop scratching because you’ll only make it worse.’ Her mum’s face flitted before her; it was her favourite catchphrase. ‘It’s like constantly telling a smoker, smoking is bad for them. You know it, but you can’t help it. The urge is far too strong for words to stop you doing it. So, if I can help ease someone else’s urge to scratch, then that’s great.’
Delwyn grinned at her turn of phrase and went to the shelf where the bags of horsetail herbs needed for the tea were.
Chapter 27
Isabel found Constance, as Nurse Jill said she would, in the library. She loitered in the hallway outside momentarily unsure of the reception she would receive. A woman of great years such as Constance was entitled to be disagreeable if she so desired, she supposed. The library she saw was a large airy room lined with wall-to-wall books. A lady with a salt and pepper crop, decked out in smart leisurewear, was holding a fat novel in her hand and inspecting the back cover with a frown on her face. A picture window dominated the far end of the room. Its purpose was to let the natural light flood in and to beckon to the expansive back lawn and surrounding gardens beyond. The window was framed with thick velvety russet drapes, which added to the overall inviting warmth of the room.
Constance, with her glasses sliding down her nose, was seated at the antique oak table decorated with a scattered array of newspapers. She was, however, reading a book and must have sensed Isabel’s presence as she looked up and spied her hovering in the hall. ‘I’ve always loved to read,’ she said peering over the top of her glasses ‘C.S. Lewis once said, “You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.” It’s large print only or talking books for me these days, and the selection’s not so good. This one’s a load of old twaddle. I might give it away.’ True to her words she closed it with a snap.
‘Hello again Constance,’ Isabel said, entering the room. Her exterior might be that of a frail old woman but she was sharp as a tack, she thought, sitting down opposite her. The woman with the salt and pepper crop who’d been appraising the novel tucked it under her arm and left the room leaving them alone. ‘I said I’d come back and tell you how I got on. I followed your remedies to the letter, and it’s worked a treat thank you.’
Constance pushed her glasses back up her nose and peered across the table eyeing Isabel’s neck before taking her hand and turning it so she could
