Viridian Tears by Rachel Green Read Free Book Online Page B

cemetery.”
    “You’ll have to make an appointment, madam. Mrs. Maguire really is very busy.”
    “I appreciate that, but this will only take a few minutes of her time.”
    The woman pursed her lips. It gave her the unfortunate appearance of a duck although Meinwen had no intention of telling her that.
    “I’ll ask her for you, but I’ll warn you she rarely sees people without an appointment.”
    “Thank you.” Meinwen beamed. “I couldn’t ask for more.” She waited for several minutes in the reception area. With nothing else to do, since the only magazines available were funerary catalogues, she studied the paintings on the walls. Although abstract, the oils were reminiscent of watercolors dripped on wet paper, the edges of color almost fractal in their intensity.
    She stepped back to see all three along one wall at once. They seemed to be a progression; the pattern in the first tight and constricted but expanding across the triptych until the third was loose and airy. She frowned. Were they originally based on something figurative? There was movement across the pieces, almost the suggestion of a figure in the center. What, then, did the multitude of white flecks represent?
    The inner door opened before she could make a firm decision on their subject. The cryotorium owner, Mrs. Maguire, was younger than Meinwen expected, her shoulder-length hair cut into a neat bob around her soft face, but the lines around her eyes indicated she frowned often. She was dressed in a very professional two-piece suit and was a little taller than Meinwen. Most people were.
    “You asked to speak to me?” She approached the antique desk but didn’t sit, merely rested the tips of her fingers on it. She had an economy of movement Meinwen couldn’t hope to replicate in a decade of dance lessons. Not that Meinwen ever danced.
    “Mrs. Maguire?” Meinwen waited for the slight not of affirmation. “My name is Meinwen Jones. I run Goddess Provides on Knifesmithsgate?”
    “I know of it.” She relaxed, her shoulders dropping an inch. “I’ve not been in, though I’ve seen some of your wares appearing on resting places here and there. Please tell me you’re here to remove all the little glass fairies.”
    “No, sorry. They’re quite the cash crop, those things. They go out of the door like flies in a mort…er cow shed?”
    “There are no flies here, Mrs. Jones. They wouldn’t dare vex me. So…what can I do for you? Please be brief. It’s a busy day for me.”
    “You can call me Meinwen for a start.” Meinwen glanced outside. The morning rain left the ground wet but if the sun wasn’t shining it was at least lighter than it was. “Look, could we talk outside? I want to show you something in the graveyard”
    “Such as?”
    “An idea I have that could be to our mutual benefit.”
    Eden glanced at her watch. “Very well. I can spare you ten minutes if we walk though the Brunel garden.”
    “The what?”
    “Brunel garden. All the areas of the cemetery, and it is a cemetery rather than a graveyard which implies consecrated ground, are set out in individual memorial gardens. The Brunel garden is laid out around a statue of Isambard Kingdom Brunel, the engineer. It appeals to those with deceased family members in the engineering trade.”
    “I don’t mind.” Meinwen followed her to the door. “Won’t you need a coat? It’s a bit brass monkeys out there.”
    “It’s nothing to the cold I’m used to downstairs.” Eden held the door open while Meinwen came through and followed the drive to the right before cutting off to walk along the grass. “What were you so desperate to show me?”
    “It’s over…” Meinwen looked around to get her beatings. “There, the area of undeveloped land with the three birch trees. I do like how you kept as many trees as you could, by the way. Very progressive of you.”
    “When I was a child I lived in a relatively new town, Mrs. Jones. My mother died when I was young.” She held