Chapter 9: Meeting Mrs. Tishell

Friday Afternoon.

Sally Tishell was restocking the postcard display when the shop door jingled and a tall, handsome, middle aged man, carrying a briefcase yet casually dressed, walked in. "How can I help you?" she asked.

"I could use some sunscreen. I've been spending a lot of time on my boat, though now it's in dry dock being refurbished. I like to maintain my healthy glow but being so fair skinned even when I'm just on the beach I go through the sunscreen pretty quickly."

She went behind the counter and got him a tube. "This one has a five star rating for UVA and UVB protection."

"Thanks." He took out his wallet and paid for the purchase, then gave her a brilliant smile. "But that's not all I came in for. I wanted to talk to you about Treasure Island."

"What?" She looked at him blankly.

"My name is Malcolm Bellingham and I'm here in Portwenn to present an amazing opportunity. Mr. Pratt is no longer interested in maintaining his family farm and he has offered to sell it to my company to develop an outlet mall, which will bring many well paying jobs to this village as well as drawing many visitors here, who will patronize local shops such as your chemist's."

He flashed his brilliant smile again and continued. "I see you don't have one of those silly 'No!' badges. I'm going about trying to talk to as many village residents individually as I can and I'd like to offer you the opportunity to wear a 'Yes!' badge or display a 'Yes!' placard in your shop window to demonstrate a sense of positivity about this remarkable project. I've got some with me." He set his briefcase on the counter and opened it up.

Mrs. Tishell looked at him wide-eyed. It dawned on her who this was. "I've heard about it. I wasn't able to attend the meeting at the Village Hall due to a conference for dispensing pharmacists in Plymouth. So…" She studied him curiously: Blondish hair gone silver grey, blue eyes, tall, and so distinguished. She hadn't felt much of interest in anything since Clive's passing but now, for the first time since then, she felt a bit of a thrill. "…is it true?"

"Yes! Having the first location of the new Treasure Island outlet mall franchise will put Portwenn on the map. This village will become a destination for shoppers throughout Cornwall as well as the whole West Country."

She waved that away impatiently. "I mean, is it true that… you're Dr. Ellingham's cousin?"

"Oh that!" He laughed. "Yes, that's also true."

Brimming with excitement, she reached up to smooth her hair and straighten her cervical collar in an unconsciously flirtatious manner. "What's he really like? I mean, deep down, from someone who must know him so well."

His laughter became a snort of derision. "Well, there's not much to tell. He was pretty much always as he is now, old Ellsie. That's what they called us back in school, Ellsie and Bellsie. Not that we were ever close. He was two years younger and a bed-wetter. Pathetic. He got over that and did pretty well for himself, for a while there at least. He took after his Dad in the surgery game, good old Uncle Christopher. Then he blew it all up, with his blood phobia. Poor Ellsie. Ended up here as a GP, you already know that part I reckon. Got himself a hot wife at least, don't know how he managed that. She's got an open mind on my project, unlike that stubborn old goat."

Mrs. Tishell managed to keep up her excitement level through the word "pathetic," then it began to morph into shock. Then fury.

"Nocturnal enuresis, as bedwetting is properly known, is a real medical condition with many possible causes. Haemophobia is a specific phobia anxiety disorder that can have serious effects on a health care provider's career. Neither are to be made light of!"

Malcolm realized too late he had blabbed too much and overplayed his hand. Apparently some people in this biscuit tin village seemed to admire his oddball cousin. Well, he resolved not make that mistake again.

"And if Dr. Ellingham has his doubts about your Treasure Chest plot for this village then that's enough to make me have serious doubts about it too!"

"Treasure Island, and it's a phenomenal opp…" He tried to correct her but it was too late, he'd clearly lost the bonkers old bat's vote and she looked ready to throw him out of the shop. He closed up his briefcase and made a graceful exit, pausing at the door to have the last word. "Thank you for your time ma'am, and I hope you recover from your neck injury very soon."

She glared at him indignantly and unconsciously reached up to touch her cervical collar one last time.

To be continued…