The Last Waltz

Chapter 3

It was a beautiful summer day. The summer heat in Scotland was nothing close to what she was used to, so sitting outside in the little garden of her cottage was pleasant. The garden was full of summer roses and sweet-smelling fragrances, and it faced the road so she could watch the town saunter by on their daily routes.

Her little easel and table were set in the sun next to a couple of garden chairs as she worked on a storyboard, her first attempt at the fairy and goblin book.  She wore a sundress and cardigan with a large sun hat to keep the sun off her face. On the small table was a pitcher of water and a few glasses in case someone stopped to say hi, as they inevitably did.

She had just finished the goblin, who looked remarkably like Harrison but wasn't as scary as she wanted to make him because it was a children's book. Poppy tilted her head and considered the fairy, who looked somewhat like Mary.  Perhaps she could make all the characters resemble citizens of the small village. It was something to think about.

"Hi, Poppy. Do you have a minute to talk?" Sally said, stopping at her gate.

"Sure, Sally. Come on in and take a seat. Keep me company." Poppy sat her pencil down and poured water as Sally settled into her set.

"I wanted to give you the tour details so you could mark it on your calendar," Sally said, then took a long drink of water. "That is if you still want to go."

"I most definitely want to go!" Poppy insisted as she leaned back in her chair and turned her face to the sun. "When is it?"

"This Friday. I'll pick you up at about half past nine. The tour starts at ten, and lunch is included. It'll probably be something gross like haggis." Sally made a face. "They like to give the tourist a treat."

"I would say that's more of a punishment than a treat," Poppy said as she shook her head. She was in total agreement with Sally. She was not a fan of haggis. 

"What are you working on?" Sally asked, looking at her easel.

"It's a children's book about goblins and fairies." Poppy considered her work and tried to see it through another's eyes.

"You're very good. Where did you learn to draw?"

"My aunt is an artist. I was the youngest and always left out of my older cousins' games because I couldn't keep up. My Aunt Norah had a bad back and had to sit still a lot, so we both felt sorry for each other and would spend time together drawing. Sometimes, I made a mess of her pencils and paints, but she never got mad and always encouraged me."

"Do you have a big family?"

"Huge, and you?"

Sally shook her head. "My parents died when I was in college, and I don't have any siblings only cousins."

"Are you from here?" Poppy took a sip of her water.

"Yes, the town takes care of me and ensures I always have somewhere to go for holidays and stuff like that. It's a wonderful place to live." Sally smiled as she looked over at Poppy.

"I get that feeling." Poppy smiled back.

"How long are you here for?" Sally asked.

Poppy shrugged. "I rented this place for six months and have no plans beyond that. My parents were nomads, so I have a lot of different homes and no real roots. If one of us settles somewhere, we all consider it another home."

"Home is where the heart is." Sally nodded and looked a little sad.

"Can I ask you something?" Poppy leaned forward.

"Sure," Sally followed her lead, ready for a little gossip sharing.

"Is Isaac Harrison liked?" Poppy hated asking, but her curiosity was getting the better of her.