Wyatt's Magical Wardrobe || ONC 2024

[Seven]

We stand in front of the small shop; it looks to be one of those nik naky places that are filled with all sorts of crap, and in the front window is a display of maritime stuff. Model boats, shelf ornaments of seagulls and life preservers. And to the left, sitting on a small easel, is the marina picture.

"Are you positive it's hers?" I ask.

Matt nods his head, just staring at it.

"See that small C.S. on the fishing boat? That's her initial. She likes to hide it in the picture. At least that's what I've noticed from the ones I've observed at home."

It's so small that if you didn't know to look you could completely miss it.

"Maybe we should ask whoever works here if they know where it came from?" I say.

Again, he just nods his head. I can tell he's nervous. This could be the breakthrough we need to find Aunty Char. I take a quick picture to send to Becks-she'll want to be kept informed.

As we enter, I notice the door has a quaint little bell at the top that alerts to our presence. The scent of old lady floral perfume assaults my nostrils and it sets me off sneezing. Or maybe it's the absurd amount of shelves holding an absurd amount of dusty crap.

"Oh dear me, you should get that checked by the doctor, love," the chubby little granny says from behind the counter.

"Ah, thanks for the concern, but I'm sure I'll be fine," I reply, knowing it's more likely just dust and cheap perfume.

"Well, I hope for your sake it's not that nasty corona swine infection that's been going around lately."

Is she talking about covid? The flu that's been the talk of the town for the last four years? I shake my head at her old ladyness. Poor silly old bat, hopefully she's not completely senile and can tell us more about that painting.

"We actually were just wanting to enquire about that marina picture in the window. I don't suppose you know who painted it?" I ask.

Without saying a word, she grabs a walking stick from beside the counter and hobbles towards the front window. She knocks over a dolphin ornament and another picture reaching for Aunty Char's one.

"This one's ten pounds," she says to us.

I look at Matt, and he rolls his eyes at me. I have a feeling this is going to be a dead end.

"No, we want to know who painted it? Are they local?" I try again.

"Oh, I wouldn't have the foggiest, love. Pretty though, isn't it? She is very talented."

Wait, what?

"She? So you do know who painted it?"

"No dear, I don't know her. She seems lovely, though."

Give me strength. Matt senses my frustration and takes over the interrogation.

"Does she come in here often?" He asks in a cheerful tone.

"Once in a while, she brought this one in just last week, I think?" She says, scratching at her chin.

"We would be forever grateful if you could tell us her name. I'd love to purchase more of her art," he says.

So bloody charming.

"She told me once, but the old noggin isn't so great with names and faces anymore. Oh, but I remember her saying she only sells through us. Not much of a people person, I gather. You know how those artist types can be, very odd indeed."

Hmm, I wonder if she's changed her name and prefers to keep a low profile? It seems like she's still close by though and not moved to New Zealand or something. Which is good for us.