Check me out making good decisions.
I grabbed a spoon from the drawer and took my mini picnic through the house to the library. My laptop and sketching things were already there. I figured the internet was as good a place as any to start my research.
I nestled myself down on the sofa, swung my legs up, and got started. Matthew had been enthusiastic about the idea of the postcards, and Eleanor had spent our cup of tea this morning insisting that she would get me registered at the doctor’s surgery she preferred so I didn’t have to do a thing.
I was fine with that, for what it was worth.
“What are you doing?”
I jerked at the sound of Ffion’s voice, and my heart almost leapt right out of my throat when she leaned over me. “Goodness, do you not make noise when you walk?”
“No. I’m like a gazelle. I glide.” She pushed her glasses further up her nose and squinted. “What are you doing?”
“Research,” I replied, reaching for my muffin.
“For what?”
“Postcards for the gift shop.”
“Well, they can’t be worse than the crap they have in there now.” She pushed off the arm of the sofa and sat in the one on the other side of the table. “Are you finding some?”
“Looking for some to design,” I replied, opening a new Google tab. “But other than the house and Saint Dwynwen’s spot, I don’t know what else to do.”
“South Stack Lighthouse. Parys Mountain. Beaumaris Castle. Menai Bridge. Puffins. Penmon Point. How many do you want?”
I blinked at her. “How many was that?”
“Six. Eight if you count your two.” She paused. “And stop calling it Saint Dwynwen’s spot. It’s Llanddwyn Island. Clan-thwin, before you ask me how to pronounce it, dear.”
She’d just said it, but all right.
Welsh was weird.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to things like a double ‘l’ being pronounced like the ‘cl’ in ‘clan.’
That didn’t even include how they were able to string consonants together and somehow have them make sense.
“What’s the significance of puffins?” I asked, looking from my list to Ffion. “That’s quite random.”
“Good grief, Matthew hasn’t told you anything, has he?”
I didn’t say anything.
I hadn’t really asked, either.
“Ynys Seiriol, most commonly known as Puffin Island. It’s east of the Menai Strait and is a bird sanctuary. The puffins breed there every year, and you can get the boat out there from Beaumaris. Good chance you’ll see porpoise, seals, and dolphins, too?”
“Here?”
Her lips curved up, and her eyes twinkled with restrained laughter. “This island has a wealth of wildlife on it, my dear. It’s an animal lover’s dream. I’m sure you know about the red squirrels.”
I nodded. “We’ve walked the route a couple of times now. Did yesterday.”
“That’s only one. There’s woodland protected all over the island. It’s the perfect time to go out to the island now, but you might want to wait until you’re no longer at the risk of the very confusingly named morning sickness.”
The idea of being on a boat right now was not pleasing at all.
“Are there other places to see the animals?”
“You can see them all over if you catch them at the right time. It really is a matter of right time, right place, I’m afraid. Is that enough ideas for your postcards?”
“I think so. Eight isn’t overkill, is it?”
“Combined with the ones we already have? No. You could even start with four and introduce the others later.”
I slowly nodded, looking at the list I’d written in a scruffy, haphazard manner. Whatever I’d been doing, it wasn’t writing in straight lines. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”
“Do I think people would buy postcards with artwork done by the countess?” Ffion lifted her eyebrows. “Yes. I think they’d buy your actual artwork, too, but that’s a conversation for another day.”
I swallowed, keeping my gaze focused on the list.
“Eva, what did you want to do before you married Matthew?”
“What do you mean?”
“What was your job? Where did you work? Where did you want to work?” Ffion asked, tilting her head to the side. “You’re a little lost, my dear, and I daresay it’s time we helped you out a little. Now that I’ve been proven right about the baby, I’m considering investing in a little tent and crystal ball to go outside the gift shop.”
I wasn’t entirely sure Matthew would appreciate her setting up a fortune telling business over there, but it was nice that she was aiming high.
It was important to have goals.
“I wanted to be an artist,” I said after a moment, turning to meet her gaze. “Well, I wanted to make a living off selling my art, I should say. Then it was to sell art to help my parents with their hotel, but now Matthew has invested, I suppose I don’t need to do that anymore.”
“Why should you change your dream? You can still do those things now. In fact, as far as I can see, you are doing those things. You have the commissions from Dafydd and you’re doing this for the gift shop. What are a few small sketches or paintings that can be sold?”