Dead to Begin With. Vivian Conroy

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СКАЧАТЬ groaned and raised both hands in a fake gesture of surrender. But Vicky noticed the warmth in his eyes. He had always appreciated people who fought for their dreams. Maybe now that she was pursuing hers, they’d get closer?

      Closer than they had ever been before?

      Michael leaned over and said, “You can forget about Mortimer though. With Gwenda still living overhead, Mortimer won’t show his face here. The two can’t stand the sight of one another.”

      Everett smiled smugly. “Trust me. Mortimer needs money. He’ll come.”

      “Does it really have to cost that much?” Vicky asked. She eyed Mortimer Gill over the papers he had just handed her. She could understand it wasn’t easy to get an old fireplace out again after it had been bricked up by somebody who had not cared for preserving it, but… “I want to keep a tight rein on my budget.”

      “Look,” Mortimer said, “either I do it right or I’d better not do it at all. You get my point?”

      Vicky sighed. Everett Baker had kept his promise by sending Mortimer out here first thing. She had also asked for a customer recommendation and had spoken on the phone to a Ms. Tennings, a perceptive elderly lady, who had declared that Mortimer knew his craft. He worked fast and neat.

      Ms. Tennings had also volunteered that Mortimer had initially asked a higher price for the job than she had been willing to agree on. After a day or two, however, he had lowered his bid because he wanted the job anyway. “Perhaps if you let him dangle first and then call back, he’d be willing to tone down the price?” she had suggested with a smile in her voice.

      Vicky rather liked Ms. Tennings’ way of thinking and now said to Mortimer, with a dubious expression, “Let me think about it and give you a call tonight, OK?”

      “I can do it first thing tomorrow,” Mortimer pressed. “I understand you want to open up as soon as possible. Makes sense considering it’s now summer season. Tourists flocking in. If you hire a company, they won’t come at once. And they’ll send two workmen over. They always do. You pay for two people’s hours, and they’re only in each other’s way. I’m coming alone. And I’ll be out again the same day. Guaranteed.”

      “I’ll call you tonight,” Vicky repeated. Mortimer had a point about companies always sending several workmen. That alone would cost her. But she didn’t want to cave on the spot. She fully intended to ask for a discount and he might give it if he doubted she’d hire him otherwise.

      As a clearly disgruntled Mortimer walked out of the door, Vicky raised her head up to where a guy in his twenties balanced on a metal ladder, trying to get the lilac off the beams. Ms. Tennings had also recommended him. Being a student on holiday, he had been able to step up right away. He had also agreed to a set price for a full day of labor.

      “How are you getting on?” she called to the painter, but he didn’t hear her over the drone of the music coming from the player in his pocket.

      Vicky exhaled and walked outside. The lettering GWENDA’S BEAUTY PARLOR had been removed first thing by the young painter, much to the irritation of Gwenda Gill. She had watched Vicky’s every move from the other side of the road with her black poodle by her side. She had stood there like a sentry as Vicky had given the window a good cleaning, outside and in, and had then pasted a poster on the glass from the inside. It read:

       Opening soon:

       Country Gift Shop

       your one-stop shop for everything British

       china—scented candles—pillows—plaids—books

       clothes—tableware—royalty corner

      The moment Gwenda Gill had seen the poster, she had scanned it quickly. A derisive look had passed over her face, and she had walked away in a trot as if she couldn’t wait to meet up with other people and talk about the laugh of the century.

      Of course Gwenda had every reason to feel antagonistic about a new store opening up in her old building. But still it felt like a bad start.

      Shoppers had passed on the other side of the street, halting to look at the window and read the poster’s text. But Vicky had not been able to determine what they thought.

      Maybe she should have pasted old newspapers against the windowpanes and let them guess what was going on inside, who had rented it and why?But then Everett Baker wouldn’t be secretive about it. She’d rather advertise it herself than let the grapevine spread the tale.

      “Hello!” A woman with red curls dancing on her shoulders came up to her. Her pale face was slightly flushed, and her eyes sparkled. She wore a basic tweed jacket with elbow patches over a pencil skirt. Nice businesslike attire as of someone who works in an office.

      “You must be Vicky Simmons, the new tenant of the old beauty parlor? You’re going to do the English store, right? I just love everything British.”

      The redhead’s expression turned apologetic as she continued, “I suppose you hear this all the time and that you probably can’t take on everybody who says they know their English stuff. But I do know everything about cozy mysteries. Have been reading them since I was a teen. Agatha Christie, Dorothy Sayers, Patricia Wentworth. And Bella Brookes’ fabulous SEE BRITAIN AND DIE series.”

      Vicky perked up. “I met Bella Brookes when she was doing a book tour in Wales, and got her to sign Death in Dartmoor.”

      “That’s one of her best books. Especially the finale. I never saw that coming.” The woman looked impressed. “You actually know her?”

      “I could email her,” Vicky mused, half to herself, “and ask her if she’d sign some books for me to put in the store in the opening week. Or maybe she can send out autograph plates or something? I suppose that will cost less than sending books from the UK to here.”

      “I would love an autographed book. I think her sleuth is amazing. And I keep promising myself I have to go to the UK sometime and see all of those places she wrote about. If only the airfare wasn’t so outrageous—and the hotel prices!”

      The redhead took a deep breath and blinked as if she’d suddenly returned from some elevated spot to Glen Cove’s Main Street. “Sorry to be going on like this. Cozies are sort of an addiction of mine. I thought that maybe… Well, I do have time on my hands when my kids are in school. I could give a talk on cozies and then we can have a quiz about the classics. I’ve got a friend who could bake us some scones and muffins to hand out to the participants. Turn it into a real British party.”

      Vicky lifted a hand to stem the flood of words and ideas. She wanted to say that it was very nice to meet someone who shared her passion. That she appreciated the offer of help too, but that it was way too early for all that. She had enough on her plate with the renovations. Last night she had actually had a nightmare about lilac beams chasing her across the beach.

      And she had to order more stock, make decisions about the window display and the opening hours. About a website, business cards, brochures and where to put them…

      Just thinking about all the details that she still had to work out, her mind swam. She wasn’t able to take on any more right now.

      But СКАЧАТЬ