In the front sitting room, she found Louise setting the tea service on the low coffee table in front of an uncomfortable looking Victorian sofa. This room was essentially Miss Weena, though not the Mardi Gras Weena. No, this room was the Avon Miss Weena. She loved smells and every Avon lady within a mile had somehow found her. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Miss Weena could have let go of the pretty packaging, instead of scattering them all over the room. Their smells, never completely gone, leaked into the air. None of them strong enough to dominate, they mixed together to become something almost unpleasant. Even the tiny cakes and tea couldn’t quite edge it out.
Luci hadn’t minded it so much until the baby. Now the room made her nauseous. She rubbed her nose, wishing for a nice quiet h
