Artful Dream

Chapter 7

The sun shone through Maggie’s bedroom window as dust motes danced in its rays. The voice activated radio alarm gradually increased its volume gently waking her from the night’s sleep. She had drunk far too much for a 'school night' and Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata was the last thing she wanted ponding in her ears.

“Alexa, reduce the volume.” Richard showed Maggie how to command the smart speaker when he showed her the room. However, despite her efforts, the radio got louder.

Maggie jumped out of bed not wanting the raucous music to wake Richard in the next bedroom. “I said ‘reduce’ you stupid cow!” The smart speaker switched from the radio to farmyard noises.

With the speaker now mooing in her bedroom, Maggie reached behind the bedside cabinet and pulled it out of the wall. With her head still conducting nuclear bomb tests, Maggie just let herself fall back onto the soft silk pillows.

She soon drifted back off to sleep then woke when she heard the gentle, tap, tap, tap, on her bedroom door.

“Maggie, you awake its half seven,”

“OK,” was all she could manage.

“I’ll fix some coffee and toast for you?”

“K” came the reply.

With her hands holding her head, she kicked away the duvet and swung her legs around to sit on the edge of the bed. Looking down at herself she could see she was still wearing her grey sweat pants and blue sweatshirt from the night before. Going to bed in your clothes was not a good sign. She vaguely remembered Richard speaking to her and walking her to the bedroom, but that was about it. She must have fallen unconscious once she hit the bed.

Maggie stood up, losing her balance. Once her balance was regained, she stripped off and went for a shower.

Richard had timed roughly when she’d be through for breakfast, he didn’t want her having cold coffee and toast. He enjoyed entertaining Maggie last night and inwardly hoped she wouldn’t return to her flat. She eventually wandered into the kitchen showered and dressed raring to go. Well, that was what she was telling herself. In reality she wished it was Sunday when she could just have a duvet day.

Richard took one look at her. “Boy you look rough.”

“Thanks Richard, you are just what I need right now.”

He took away her latte and brewed a strong Columbian roast. “Here, drink this. You’ll thank me later.”

The coffee looked and tasted like Tarmac but she drank it all the same. “How come you are still upright?”

Richard had drunk the same amount of wine as her, yet he looked the picture of good health. “Water, drink a glass of water in-between refills, works every time.”

Maggie placed one elbow on the table, her head in her hand and nibbled at her toast.

“Why don’t you stay here in the flat today. You have the flood to sort out. I can look after your business for you.”

It was a nice idea but she was already dressed, besides the walk to the shop in the fresh air would do wonders for her.

“Thanks, but I got an email yesterday and I want to be in the shop when I make my call to Italy.”

Richard looked up at the mention of Italy, “Oh! and who might that be?”

“Signore Giovanni Rossi, he was the book dealer from Florence I saved from wasting his money on that fake Guttenberg Bible in January. Remember? ” The coffee was slowly kicking in and the toast was lining her stomach making her feel a little better.

“What does he want?” enquired Richard.

“No idea, he asked me to call him when it was convenient. He is however, the organiser for International Book Festival this year which is being held in Florence. Maybe he has some rare books for me to evaluate?"

Smiling, Richard too got out his cell. “Well, you weren’t the only one receiving emails from Italy yesterday. I too got one from Eric Schmidt, the curator of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence.”

He handed the cell over to Maggie.

"Looks like we may be going on a joint business trip to Florence!"