A public service

She was thin and wore a black work-suit; her elegance was noticeable:
she drove a dark blue Volvo from south of Village, and she knocked on
the old Mill door.

"Sorry, no flour today", I said, "Still fixing the main gears".

"I'm not here for flour", she replied, "I'm here to make sure you put
this up in a prominent place."

And she handed me a poster.

Achtung, heir wir sind Rauchenfrei... you get the drift.

I smiled.

"Don't need it", I said, pointing to a well-polished brass plaque with
NO SMOKING - THE MGT embossed thereon. That's been there since before I
took over the place, and I've been here for several years now. Besides,
only a blithering idiot would light up in here. There's just too much
change of an explosion if you do."

"Indeed", she said, "and exactly how much gunpowder do you make in here?"

"Never seen a flour-air explosion?" I asked, and evading the question
with a grace my old Jesuit teachers would approve of. "Quite an
experience in small doses, and you really don't want to be anywhere
near a large one."

"Well, you learn something new every day", she chirped. "Still, you
have to put that poster up. This is a public place, and it's the law."

"Well then, let me see... hang on, did you say a public place? It
isn't, it's private property and there's a sign at the gate saying so."

"Ah, but you provide a public service, don't you?"

"No, I provide a commercial service. People hand over grain, and money"
- and other things, some of which you really don't want to know about -
"and in return I give them back flour."

"Surely your employees? -"

"Solo operation. And I don't smoke. At all."

"I see. Well, I suppose I'd better make sure the local inn gets one of
these, and the shops... and would you know of anywhere else that might
benefit?"

"Well then... perhaps. Yes. There's this place over to the west I've
often seen smoke coming from, and I've often seen folks go up there, so
it's probably some sort of public place... go up the street, keep left,
take the first left down the lane, about half-way down there's a small
lay-by you can park (don't worry about the sign that says "Horses
Only", then there's a path on your right over the river. You can't miss
it".

And there she was. Gone. Now all I have to worry about is, how the
bloody hell did she find us?
--
The Miller
Mill currently being renovated - abnormal service will be resumed as
soon as possible.