The Bay by Di Morrissey Read Free Book Online Page B

way to stay in business, particularly up here.’
    â€˜You study botany at uni?’ Andrew asked, barely masking his scepticism.
    â€˜Nope. But I’ve got a couple of friends clued up on all of that. As I mentioned, one’s a pharmacist and she’s brilliant at analysing what’s in some of the big name commercial products. Horrifying stuff really. And then there’s a mate who’s a botanist. Spends most of his time hunting around the forests here trying to find something new in the way of herbs and other plants. He reckons we are only just beginning to learn the value of plants for health and beauty. He’s been given a grant by the uni here.’
    â€˜First steps in a long journey,’ commented Andrew as he sniffed a bottle of tea tree oil-based aftershave lotion.
    â€˜Hey, you’re talking like a local,’ laughed the girl.
    Andrew grimaced. ‘The labelling isn’t very good,’ he said in a bid to regain the high ground.
    â€˜Prefer to put the money into the contents,’ she responded a little sharply.
    Holly stepped in to the conversation. ‘I’ll take these, thanks,’ and handed over several jars and a bottle. ‘Are you at all the markets?’
    â€˜Every Sunday, just like a churchgoer. I’ve moved back from Sydney and one day I’d like to open a shop, but for the time being it’s strictly only on Sunday.’ She reached into a bag. ‘Here’s my card. And a sheet you can fill in, personal details, and then I can make up things specially for your skin.’
    â€˜Thanks a lot. I’ll give it some thought,’ said Holly glancing at the card. ‘Oh, that’s a lovely name – Amber. You said you’ve just come back, so I assume this is home.’
    The girl’s expression faded for a moment then she forced back the bright smile. ‘Yes. Born here, but had to go south to the big smoke just to see what it’s like; now I’m back for good. I’m working at it, damned hard. As you probably know, this area is at the cutting edge of holistic health and lifestyle changes. Not to mention all the other things that ruffle the conservative traditionalists.’ She grinned, giving Andrew a sideways glance. ‘This is the place to start a business that is grounded in a caring belief system.’
    â€˜That’s nice to hear. Good luck, Amber, I’ll let you know how I find these,’ said Holly.
    â€˜Please do,’ she said before turning to serve another customer.
    â€˜Idealism of youth,’ said Andrew with a slight smirk. ‘She’d go broke in a proper shop in a month.’
    As they turned into the next avenue of stalls, Holly stopped and dug her elbow into Andrew’s ribs. ‘Look there.’
    At the end of the row a man was sitting in a polished wooden squatter’s chair under a fringed Indonesian paper umbrella, his legs slung over the arms, an embroidered footstool and coal shuttle beside him. Three card tables were covered with an assortment of crockery, ornaments and silverware. On an old Persian rug on the ground were piled lace doilies, crochet rugs and damask cloths, cushions and patchwork quilts. Several paintings and prints of old boats were stacked against one of the tables. A tall thin woman wearing a top made of what was once a brocade curtain over a silver and red Indian sari skirt was showing a couple a large silver teapot.
    Holly rushed forward. ‘Excuse me,’ she said and she tugged at the teapot. ‘I believe that came from Richmond House. It belongs to me.’ She turned to the suburban looking couple who were dressed in unflattering baggy shorts and golf shirts. ‘It’s not for sale, I’m sorry.’
    â€˜Yes it is,’ protested the woman running the stall, whom Holly assumed must be Lynn.
    â€˜There’s been a misunderstanding. We bought the house and everything in it. The estate agent had no right to