Summer at the Salon: Starscopes, #3

By Ruth Hay

So much has changed in Octavia's life in only a few months. She really needs a chance to recover and adjust to these changes, but this is not always possible when the stars align to bring decisions and consequences to the fore.

Do you believe in asking the universe for advice? What lies in your future? Would you like to know? Are your eyes open to the many possibilities around you?

Get ready for Eye-Opening Revelations!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruth Hay
• Release date: Aug 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386505334

Book preview

ONE

Octavia Dumley set her sights on the third week of July.

No matter what happened between June and then, she decided she and Marsha would escape Glasgow with all its responsibilities and uncertainties, and take off for Skye.

It was an understandable decision but not an easy one to achieve. As soon as the news was out about Octavia inheriting the Eight-to-Eight salon, as well as the apartment where she lived, everything changed.

It seemed like an avalanche of problems and predicaments descended. Suppliers were nervous about changes to their standard orders, customers constantly asked what would happen now, and the salon staff felt insecure and needed frequent reassurances that their positions would not disappear.

Octavia called a staff meeting and pointed out how well the salon was working with its current complement of workers and supporters.

"We are a good team. Why should anything change? I know and trust all of you and respect your work. I hope you feel the same about me.

As time passes we may need to make some adjustments but I can assure you that nothing will happen without consultation and consent. If you have concerns, I hope you will feel you are safe coming to me with them. I value your input.

Let’s have a meeting like this one every few months so we can check on our progress."

Heads nodded and there were sighs of relief among the women gathered together in the foyer, for lack of another space large enough to accommodate them all.

Octavia thought the next meeting should be somewhere less constricting, perhaps a restaurant room with drinks and snacks, if the regular takings showed she could afford such an extravagance.

Now was not the time to announce a venture like that.

She smiled and relaxed a bit which showed in her voice and manner.

"Look everyone. This has come as a shock to Marsha and me, just as much as it has to all of you here. We know this not the best timing to ask, but we want to know if you are willing to be put on trial for a period of one week while Marsha and me go for a much-needed holiday.

Now don’t panic! We can close the place down for the week and all of us go off to relax. That would be the simplest thing. Or else, we can re-organize responsibilities for that week and keep going. It’s up to you. Discuss it among yourselves and let me know what you think is best.

Just don’t expect us to be here for the third week in July. We’ll be on the island of Skye and not out of touch, of course, should anything unusual happen."

Hey, gang! Marsha took over with her usual brisk enthusiasm. "We can do this! I will help with the schedule so Octavia can look after the business end of things. All ideas gratefully accepted. Let’s show our new Boss Lady what a great team we really are!

Now hustle back to work. Customers are about to descend on us.

And, don’t start any gossip rolling. Stay professional and confident. I’ll be listening!"

The crowd dispersed just in time. Their first clients of the day were already at the door waiting for Morag to press the buzzer for entry.

Marsha waved Octavia off to the office where she was still dealing with Armand’s accounts and records over a number of years. Marsha knew her friend was not yet sure of the income stream that she could count on in the coming months. The entire enterprise was much more complicated than she ever suspected when she took on the Assistant Manager position.

This was only one of a number of worries that kept Octavia Dumley from sleeping well at night.

The euphoria of the first days when Eight-to-Eight became her property, was followed by the grief of Armand’s sudden death in Tenerife. Then the delight of knowing they were the owners of the flat took over, to be diminished again by the paper work storm that descended on them from lawyers and local government.

Friends and family generally rejoiced at their good fortune, but two voices were absent.

Angus and Sven had not returned from their tour in Europe.

Octavia insisted she did not give a fig about either of the men. Marsha knew it hurt that they were not there to celebrate with them in the way the two women had celebrated the success of Angus and Sven when they won the opportunity to visit art galleries and museums under the sponsorship of Randall Carter Reeves.

The worst part of that came when Johanna Strail happily recounted the few days she spent at the grand house in France with Randall, his mother, and the pair of artists. Johanna was unaware how painful it was for Octavia to hear about the birthday party when Angus and Sven, dressed in evening suits, were wined and dined in extravagant style on a terrace overlooking the Mediterranean.

Sven had barely spent three minutes on the phone to Octavia in the month of June and since then she heard nothing from him at all. Even Johanna was unable to gather any solid information about Sven’s whereabouts, although she said Angus was heading home after his final stop in the Art Gallery in Manchester where his exciting triptych of paintings had garnered a lot of attention.

She informed them Angus was anxious to resume work on another set of paintings. The School of Art’s Rector had offered him a studio in the Tontine Building where he could work without interruption in the summer months.

Sven Magnusson, on the other hand, seemed to have disappeared. His last known location was in Spain. Johanna insisted that Randall Reeves was actively seeking information about him and he had promised to relay that information via Johanna.

---

Marsha found it interesting that Johanna Strail had suddenly become the source of communications about the two men who were more closely connected to herself and Octavia. Marsha made her own discreet enquiries via Amy Martin in St. Johnstone, where Angus was expected to be living on his return home. Amy put in a long-distance call to Sven’s mother, Mey, in the Shetlands but she did not have more to contribute to the mystery of her son’s location.

Mey was becoming increasingly worried.

It felt like the two friends were now out of the loop completely.

Marsha did not blame Octavia for dismissing what she saw as a betrayal. There was a slender hope that they might be able to resolve the matter when they had time to think about it during their holiday on Skye.

The holiday could not come soon enough for Marsha.

Bob Lawrie was watching the situation with Marsha and Octavia with interest, from a distance. His employer, Molly Dumley, was thrilled at her daughter’s good luck. Molly never lost an opportunity to underline how vital Octavia’s hard work was to this inheritance, and all other kinds of supposed good luck.

She never let Julian or Bob forget how their early hours and ongoing catering studies contributed to the success of their bakery business at Iceland. Even with her own reduced hours, she kept a close eye on weekly progress, mainly through Alistair Williams, the store manager.

Bob was the key employee for the time being. He had experience and qualifications to satisfy the city inspectors. Julian was due to catch up eventually, but he had two years of study ahead of him. Bob never underestimated the value of his connection to the Dumleys. Without them, he would still be languishing in a crummy flat in East Kilbride, unemployed and with no prospects and less hope. He knew he had Julian to thank for his improved and improving circumstances. They worked well together and still had fun on weekends with other lads and lassies in Glasgow’s clubs.

Nothing too serious, of course. All light fun and partying. Molly would have come down on them like a tonne of bricks if their work suffered from too much carousing on Sundays. She clocked their arrival at her Dennistoun house after midnight and made sure they were on their way downtown to start the baking, no matter at what ungodly hour they had returned for a few hours of sleep.

Their routine, in the former Baking Supplies shop near Iceland, was so well organized they could probably perform it in their sleep. Molly had established the timing and the methods. All they had to do was follow the plan. They rarely spoke until the trays of finished goods were taken off by van to Iceland and delivered into Molly’s hands. If she approved of their efforts, they had a quick discussion about any changes required for the rest of the week and then both men were free until Julian set out for his catering course around noon.

They often went to a mall coffee shop to relax and eat. They avoided any pastries or filled rolls. They saw enough of that kind of food earlier in the day. They chose hearty soups and toasted cheese on thick bread, and washed it all down with several cups of coffee. They had their own table at the very rear of the café, picking their way through female shoppers with their bags of purchases and plates of cakes, to the spot by the rear window.

This was where they talked about personal things. It was where Bob found out about Julian’s interest in Marsha Ballantyne.

Well, what’s stopping you, mate? She shares a flat with your sister. You can stop by there any time with an excuse.

It’s not that simple, Bob, and you know it. She works in a beauty salon all afternoon. I work all morning and then I go to college until five o’clock. She has only Sunday free, like us, but we have other plans then.

That could easily be changed if you wanted it. Why don’t you?

Julian turned his head and looked out of the window to the view down busy Buchanan Street. Every couple he saw was happy, with somewhere to go.

There was one big stumbling block to his pursuit of red-haired Marsha. It was her connection to that young artist Angus Ingram who everyone seemed to think was the next big thing in the world of rising stars.

How could he compete? He had nothing to offer her. No doubt, she knew all about his bad times when he was unemployed and shacked up with Bob, sinking lower and lower into despair. He would be in that state still, if a chance meeting with a little old Jamaican lady in a laundromat, of all places, had not turned his life around.

His prospects were improving now, but compared to an arty type with a big future, he was in the minor leagues for sure.

He could not even talk to his sister about his fears. Octavia was a business owner now with a host of problems much more important than his were.

No, it was a hopeless cause. He would just have to be satisfied with the stream of semi-drunk, gallous girls who went round in packs on weekends at the clubs, intent on dancing the night away.

Maybe, he would find someone more approachable at catering college, if he did not have to work so hard there, to catch up with the rest of the students.

He sighed, and turned back to Bob who was chatting up one of the café’s waitresses. Bob had a fine line of chat. The girls seemed to like it. Julian had tried to emulate the style but he was not as confident as his companion. It was just another failure in his life, at the moment.

Could it be due to lack of sleep? He could not see a change in that happening any time soon.

His mother always said it was his father’s claim that nothing good came without sacrifice.

He figured he had the sacrifice part down.

He hoped the good part included Marsha Ballantyne.

TWO

An emergency meeting was called for the Lazarians.

Glenys sent out the summons but it was the younger technical people who would be addressing the group. Something unexpected had developed, concerning the Lodestar program, and a decision was required as to how to proceed.

A young woman, highly nervous and clearly overawed by the task before her, set out the dimensions of the predicament.

"Respected sirs and madams, an American newspaper reporter has sent out a query via the internet to see if any person knows who, or what, is behind the Lodestar initiative.

This has caused a great deal of speculation. Almost all of the guesses are completely false although the meaning of the chosen name has been defined quite accurately as ‘A star, particularly the Pole Star that helps wanderers to find their direction and the course to their desired destination.’"

The Professor breathed a sigh of relief and offered the comment, This is not a bad conclusion, I would say. The definition fits well with our intent.

The young woman appeared temporarily distracted by the movement of the icons on the large screen before her, as the various figures expressed their agreement. Then she stood taller, gathered herself together, and returned her attention to the message that still required an answer.

"Honourable Lazarians, we wish to know how to respond to this situation. Should we stop this idle speculation and reveal names of those of you who wish to speak to the matter?

Or, should we dissemble, until false theories flood the internet and the true purpose of this social enterprise is diminished by ill-informed chatter?"

Glenys knew that even ridiculous ideas could spread like wildfire across the internet. She hated to see the Lazarians’ selfless project fail under the weight of nonsense theories. The tendency was for most people to cling to false ideas in preference to the correct ones. Once the damage was done, it could be impossible to reverse direction and superimpose the truth.

She thought of a current debate online about immunization for children to prevent serious childhood diseases like measles. Widespread rumours around a link to autism had caused children to die from what was preventable by simple and safe injections.

Having delivered her message, the young woman bowed then speedily left the room.

The subsequent discussion centred on devising a timely response.

The Mexican savant typed a question that took over the centre screen.

Can this reporter be stopped?

The consensus was that even if this could be done, it would cause more trouble in the end.

One or two of the group offered to go forward online and tell their stories but others were afraid of exposing themselves to public scrutiny.

Juan Carlos Santiago urged transparency but insisted no one should be coerced into this action.

If we rely on the truth we will not go wrong. Our results so far demonstrate the effectiveness of our strategy.

Our Spanish brother is correct, added the Chinese Ambassador. We could announce a date for a world-wide conference to be produced in many languages. We have evidence of success in the number of respondents who have been helped by our horoscope advice.

This was, undoubtedly a bold move; one the Professor knew would be controversial. It must be considered, of course, but there was not much time for a decision, or for a solution.

Sven Magnusson woke each morning as if from a vivid dream. He cast his eyes around the room assigned to him, and the dream aspect returned. It was by far the most luxurious room in which he had ever laid down his head. The windows screened automatically at night by pushing a button on the wall near the bed. The bedding was replaced with fresh linens every morning by magic, it seemed, and if a toothbrush or towel was used, it was gone and a new one put in its place. The same thing happened if he abandoned his dirty clothes on the bathroom floor. They were returned clean, and dry, and pressed.

When the room was shown to him for the first time, it was accompanied by an apology for the sparse accommodations.

This is usually a maid’s room, but it is all we have available at the moment.

He found this initial statement to be astonishing and nothing had caused him to change his opinion.

The sense of a dream continued outdoors. He could only comprehend his situation by linking this adventure to the exciting events beginning in France in the Randall Reeves mansion.

The events were of a similar, out-of-world type. Something a lad from the Shetland Isles could never have imagined.

Although most of his time was taken up with helping Angus in Europe, he relished the extravagant lifestyle he was shown. Best of all were the opportunities to expand his connections to gallery owners and art suppliers. Those were beyond parallel.

It was while he was staying on in Spain to meet some technicians who expressed interest in purchasing his new paint technique, that he met the person who led him to this exclusive compound in Florida.

He had listened through an interpreter to the Spanish proposition for leasing his paint technique but the price, although of great interest to an impoverished student, was not worth the risk of losing control over his discovery. An Australian museum had requested him to create a similar large waterfall painting