“I was that surprised you could have knocked me over with a feather.” Evelyn Lloyd settled herself in the client chair in the Llanelen Spa manicure salon and held out her hands to Eirlys, Penny’s young assistant, who was to give Mrs. Lloyd her weekly manicure. “I’ve just heard the body of Glenda Roberts was found down the mine. It comes as such a shock when someone dies suddenly. And she was only just young, Glenda was. Well, youngish.” Mrs. Lloyd leaned to one side to peer around Eirlys at Penny, who was pulling nail polishes from the display for Mrs. Lloyd’s approval.
“How old was she, do we know?” Mrs. Lloyd thought for a moment and then answered her own question. “Mid-forties? She couldn’t have been much more that.”
“That sounds about right,” Penny agreed. “She came here regularly to get her hair done. Took good care of herself. And she was in here just yesterday dropping off papers for Victoria. For the concert.”
“That’s right!” said Mrs. Lloyd. “I heard she was organizing the St. David’s Day concert. Well I guess someone else will have to take that on now.” She peered at Penny. “Do you think Victoria would be up for it?”
“I have no idea,” said Penny, “but I expect she’s got enough to do with being one of the performers.” She held up a bottle of burgundy-coloured polish. “How about this? Too dark?” She held up another one. “Do you like this one better? A nice cappuccino?”
Mrs. Lloyd looked from one to the other. “I’m not really crazy about either. And I think I’ve had both of those before. But it’s hard to tell from here. I’ll get up in a few minutes and choose one myself.”
She turned her attention to her hands, one of which was soaking in warm water and the other whose nails Eirlys was shaping with an emery board. “Or Eirlys can choose a colour for me. She knows what I like, since she does my nails now. Most of the time, anyway.”
Penny couldn’t help but smile. Mrs. Lloyd was one of her oldest customers and although her occasional lack of tact could be hugely annoying bordering on infuriating, she could also be oddly endearing with her kind heart and honest openness. For many years she had been the village postmistress and she took as keen an interest in local comings and goings now as she had when she’d stood behind the counter with her weigh scales and stamps. Not much got past her, she liked to think. Not then and not now.
“I haven’t heard yet how Glenda died,” Mrs. Lloyd went on. “Was it an accident? I suppose all kinds of dreadful things can happen in a mine.” She brightened. “Has that nice policeman of yours said anything to you?”
Penny shook her head. “Now, Mrs. Lloyd, we’ve been through this before. You know he’s not my nice policeman, although he is a policeman and very nice. We’re just friends, that’s all.”
“Well, yes, all right. I know you’ve told me that before. I was hoping things had changed. We all had such high hopes for you and him, Penny. But never mind that now. Tell me, did he mention anything to you about how she died?”
“No, he didn’t because I haven’t spoken to him. I expect the investigation is just getting started. I wondered about the logistics of dealing with a body found down the mine. I expect that’ll be causing lots of problems for them.”
“Well, the policeman in charge, the senior guy that Penny knows, he’s going to talk about it on the telly just before lunch,” Eirlys said. “So maybe he’ll explain everything then.” Both Penny and Mrs. Lloyd turned their attention to her.
“He is? Where did you hear that?” Mrs. Lloyd asked.
“Twitter.” She reached in her bag, pulled out her phone, gave it a few clicks, and after a bit of scrolling, held it out so Penny could read it.
“You follow the North Wales Police on Twitter?” Penny asked.
Eirlys shrugged. “I follow lots of North Wales people on Twitter. Don’t you?” Penny’s eyes widened. “And at the very least, Penny,” Eirlys continued, “if you don’t personally, you should have a Twitter account for the Spa. It’s really easy. You can get followers and promote specials to them. And do you know that the biggest users of Facebook are women over forty-five? Have you been on Facebook lately?”
“You’re absolutely right, Eirlys,” said Penny. “We should do more with social media. You carry on with Mrs. Lloyd while I go and speak to Victoria.”
“Before you go, Penny,” said Mrs. Lloyd, “Florence asked me to be sure to get more of your hand lotion today. She goes through gallons of it, especially this time of year. Says she’s never seen anything like it, it’s that good. Well, I say good. It must be extraordinary, to get Florence so excited.”
Penny gave Mrs. Lloyd a quick smile. “I’ll get some for you.” She returned in a few minutes and set a small box on the table. “There you go. Rhian’s added it to your bill.”
“Put it on my slate, as we used to say.” Mrs. Lloyd picked up the box and admired its simple yet striking black on white design.
“Very nice. You’ve done a lovely job, Penny, with your own product line. I believe I was the one who suggested to you a while back that you should develop some brands of your own, but you have made rather a good go of it, I’ll give you that.”
“The lotion is amazing. It really does wonders for your hands, especially in winter. We were lucky to get that formula from Dilys. Oh, by the way, we’re about to launch a new product that I think you’ll also like. It’s a lavender linen spray made from locally sourced lavender grown right here in Wales. It’s heavenly.”
“Oh, I love lavender. When will it be available, do you think?”
“In a few weeks. We’re just signing off now on the packaging design. It’s also being made from a formula we licenced from Dilys. There’s a special ingredient in it that adds a subtle scent of something deeper.” Penny smiled. “I’m enjoying learning about the fragrance world.”
“Well then, Penny,” said Eirlys, “you’ll be wanting to get your Twitter account up and running so you can use it to get the word out about our new linen spray.”
“Yes,” agreed Penny. “I’ll have a word with Victoria about it. I have an idea about who should run the Twitter account.” She placed a hand on Eirlys’s shoulder and was rewarded with a broad smile from a young, upturned face.
“Twitter?” Mrs. Lloyd asked Eirlys as Penny was leaving. “’I’ve heard about that. Would I like it, do you think? Tell me all about it.”