Page 74 of Death on a Scottish Train

She laughed. “Are you excited about finding a dress?”

“I actually need two,” I said.

“Oh?” She shared her umbrella as we walked the short way to Lulu’s shop.

“One for the gala tomorrow night, and another for the dance on Saturday. You’re the one who reminded me.”

“Oh, right. Have I mentioned it’s been a busy day? Summers are killer, as you Americans like to say. And that is a good idea. I can’t wait to see what Lulu has in stock.”

“I hope she is resting that wrist,” I said.

“Oh, she was with her shop assistant, Mrs. Quinn, who was fussing over her.”

Mrs. Quinn was another one of my patients and a lovely, caring soul.

“I had no idea she was working there.”

“She’s helping out through the holidays to earn a bit extra,” Mara said. “Her grandchildren are coming for Christmas, and she wants to spoil them.” Of course, Mara knew the whole story. She was easy to talk to and there were no secrets in this town.

That didn’t surprise me. While she wasn’t great at keeping her blood sugar and blood pressure under control, she was as sweet as they came.

It thundered as we entered the eclectic shop. Lulu had a mix of everything from baubles, which is what they called Christmas ornaments, to art, clocks and other antiques, and assorted gifts. Those were in the front of the shop, and the back was dedicated to new and vintage clothing.

Some of the 1960s and 1970s styled outfits were made by Lulu. The shop was a treasure, and I’d never failed to find a gift in there, nor something to wear for an event. I prayed that held true today, as I had no time to shop in Edinburgh.

“Good afternoon, kids,” Lulu said as we made our way to the back of the shop.

I loved that we were middle-aged, and she considered us kids. Today, Lulu’s outfit was bright fuchsia and her eye shadow matched.

“How are you feeling? I hope you are resting that wrist.”

“Aye, Doctor, I’m behaving.” She smiled and pointed to her wrist, which rested on the counter. She was sitting, as well.

“So, miracles do happen,” I told her. She wasn’t the sort to follow instructions if she didn’t agree and even though she was in her seventies, nothing slowed her down.

Well, except a roller blading accident.

“Oh, you.” She pointed to me.

“I’m making sure she keeps that ankle up,” Mrs. Quinn said as she bustled out of the backroom. Her arms were full of clothes on hangers.

“Bless you, Mrs. Quinn, for looking after our Lulu,” Mara said.

“I dinnae need looking after. I’m perfectly capable,” Lulu argued.

I hid my smile.

“That you are, which is why I’m grateful you’re letting me help out,” Mrs. Quinn said as she hung up clothing on the racks. “I didn’t realize how bored I was at home. It is so fun to have people to talk to and selling them gifts they love.”

“You’ve been a blessing to me, Minerva.”

Mrs. Quinn’s plump cheeks turned pink. She was quite good at managing our friend Lulu. Today Mrs. Quinn wore a simple blackdress, which was her color of choice since her husband had passed away two years before. She spoke often of him and had wonderful stories she shared during her appointments.

“Is there anything specific you are wanting today?” Lulu asked.

“We are shopping for the big gala in Edinburgh for Ewan’s mum’s charity. And Em needs a dress for Saturday night, as well. Maybe I do too.”

“You’re in luck,” Lulu said. “I’ve several new shipments come in the last few days, and Minerva has steamed and hung up most of the garments.”