She knocked them onto the floor. “I eat off that.” “Really?” He closed the magazine and lobbed it toward a pile stacked for recycling next to the sink. “I generally use a plate myself. Still, it takes all sorts and Mam always said a bit of dirt never hurt.” He leaned forward to brush off some dry soil. “There’s some good Welsh clay there, look you. I should charge you extra for that. It’s probably a spell component for a love charm.” “Maybe one to make it rain all day.” Dafydd rose and picked up the kettle. “Another cuppa?” “I thought you didn’t like it?” “It’s not too bad with a bit of sugar in.” “You’re incorrigible.” “I know. It’s part of my natural charm.” “Go on with you.” She gave him a mock-thump on the arm and he laughed. “That snooty bint’s at the back door.” Meinwen looked past him. Sure enough, Mary was peering through the glass, a heavy black coat with a hood shadowing her face and protecting her from the wind and rain.
