‘Yes, sure.’
‘Ow, ow, ow,’ she yelped. ‘Good god, you little bugger.’ There was a large black bird at Zoe’s feet and as she kicked and shook her hands, a slinky gold bracelet slipped off her wrist. Before either of us could do anything the sly bird had snatched it in its beak. I instantly tried to grab it back but the scavenger flew, up, up and away. ‘Oh no, it’s taken your bracelet.’
‘Thank heavens it isn’t real gold.’ She turned her ankle towards me. The bird had drawn blood.
‘How absolutely awful.’
‘Ravens are evil,’ she huffed as if resigned to such things happening in the countryside. ‘I’d shoot the damn thing myself if it wasn’t illegal.’
Then, just as I was trying to think of something to say, a glazier’s van arrived in the yard and diverted her attention. It was Smash Bang Wallop to repair the kitchen window.
I felt a little spooked by such an extraordinary event but as I grabbed my quilt from the car, I reminded myself: now I live in the country – if you can call overpopulated Sussex that – I must pull myself together and get rid of these soft city roots.
‘Isn’t that gorjous,’ said Cailey as I re-entered the music room. ‘Real jazzy arrow deesin and wacky colours.’
‘It’s fun isn’t it, and comfy.’
‘What colour do yous call that?’ She was pointing at a particular shade.
‘Amethyst.’
Cailey could not get her tongue round the consonants and pulled all sorts of faces as she continued to try.
Louis reeled off a few more of the shades, ‘Turquoise, citrine, jade, topaz.’
‘Very fancy,’ said Lianne. ‘You a gem expert, are you?’
‘Gemmologist,’ said Jane.
‘A photographer actually.’
‘Then what you doing drawing for?’ Lianne was quick to pick him up.
‘Doesn’t mean I can’t draw.’ Louis sounded hurt.
‘Suppose not but a photography course would make more sense.’
Rupert volunteered an answer. ‘He’s a friend of Ewen’s.’
‘Who’s Ewen when he’s at home?’ said Giles.
‘Fergus’s younger brother.’
‘Fergus’s twin,’ said Jane, and as no one had actually mentioned he was a twin yet, I thought, like me, she must have done some research before she arrived. A bit of Googling perhaps or, if she owns a copy, a quick dip into Who’s Who. Right now was not the moment to go over it again. ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Break’s up. Time to start.’
‘Marvellous,’ exclaimed Rupert, and Louis flashed me a strangely affectionate smile.
I laid the quilt on the chaise longue and asked Cailey to lie down. ‘Pop one arm behind your head, please. Yes. Look. That works well.’
‘I’ll dangle a wee leg on the floor too, don’t yous think, open the pose up a tad?’
‘Great, yes. This session will last until lunch, so just take breaks and have a move around whenever you need to.’
‘Will do.’
I stepped outside the circle. ‘Time to begin. This exercise is about looking at form in space and relating it to the surrounding drapery. If you get stuck, call me over. I’ll be keeping out of the way on the sofa over there.’
I learnt as an undergraduate that the best tutors were the ones who kept themselves to themselves. They would set up the class with care for lighting, postures and framework and then encourage us to carry out our own interpretation of the subject. Sometimes one cried out to be shown how to do it but they knew best: teaching by example simply doesn’t work, it stunts a student’s chance to shine and turns them into a copycat.
Jane and Felicity were gossiping again. I went between them, ‘Shh, shh. Please save chatting for the break, it’s unfair on the rest of the class.’
Jane gave Felicity a that’s-us-told look. It was tiresome but I ignored it. I suspect these two have come here for a bit of a jolly and I don’t want to spoil their fun. They are after all paying for the privilege.
Retreating to the sofa I suddenly thought now would be a good time to go and have a better look at that portrait in the dining room. The one with the head at a funny angle. It wouldn’t take long.
‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ I said and left the room. For all they knew I could be visiting the loo.
No one is in here. The table’s laid, the water jugs are full. Mhàiri’s job’s done. I’m all alone. I crept towards the picture of Fergus’s grandfather. It was hanging at one end of the room and the canvas caught the light in an unusual fashion. One side was bright, the other dull. My eyes traced the man’s profile, lingering on his dignified hooter. The painter’s palette was subdued and the beige background made it difficult to define the skin tones. So, I stood in front of the nearest window hoping to block out some light. My shadow cast across the canvas and an eye – an extra eye! – stared out from beneath the paint. It was right next to the man’s profile, faded but unmistakable, I could see half a face next to his. I stepped to the side, it disappeared, I stepped back again, it reappeared. Disappeared, reappeared. This man’s head must have been painted on top of a face-on portrait.
Ruff, ruff. Haggis’s bark sent me rushing back into the music room. I don’t want to be caught neglecting my tutoring duties.
I’d just got back when there was a knock, knock at the door and Fergus’s head popped round it. In he marched, sidled up to Jane and whispered something in her ear.
‘Bedford?’ she said, with a frown. ‘Does this mean there’s no electrician coming this week?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Fergus. ‘There’s only one place in the UK where they make the particular part. There’s no way we’ll have it delivered in time. I do hope you and Felicity won’t mind sharing?’
Felicity assured Fergus this would be okay. She then put her hand on her friend’s arm and a sweet smile swept across
