She grabbed his hand and pulled him. He remained firm. “No, I don’t have time. And I can assure you I don’t need educating about buildings. Now, I’m off to Akaroa to have dinner with my sister. I wondered if you’d care for a lift if you’re still carless?”
The wind immediately left Amber’s sails. The passion of a few moments ago was overtaken by the beguiling thought of being in David’s company for an hour, at least.
“That would be lovely. I was getting a lift as far as Little River with Lois from the shop. But she’s working late and I prefer to be home before dark.”
He smiled. “Before dark? Nervous of the big, bad city, are you?”
She didn’t smile. “I’ll get my things.”
“I’ll bring the car over.”
She gathered her baskets and paints and jacket and watched as he skillfully maneuvered his car and pulled it into the vacant lot beside the shop. He opened the door for her. It seemed very gallant and old-fashioned.
“Thank you.”
As they pulled away, she glanced up to the first floor opposite where the enemies were and she could have sworn she saw a wave aimed at David. But he wasn’t looking. He didn’t make any sign of recognition. She must have imagined it. They were probably waving dismissively, glad she’d gone for the night.
“So,” he said, pulling into the late afternoon traffic flowing out of Christchurch city center. “Apart from painting rainbows, what have you been doing since I last saw you?”
“Working in the café, of course, and then quiet evenings painting.”
“Quiet evenings… I like the sound of those.”
She looked out the window at the trees fringing the park. It was an exquisitely lit winter afternoon with the encroaching night beginning to make its presence felt, chasing the light away. His voice rumbled against her skin, making her think of the kiss they’d barely had. But she wouldn’t think of that.
“I like busy days and quiet evenings. Daylight talking with people, dark on my own, thinking and painting.”
He glanced at her with interest, before indicating and smoothly overtaking someone. “And what do you think about on those long dark evenings?”
She held his gaze until he broke it to look ahead at the traffic. “All last week I’ve been thinking about the last time I saw you. At Belendroit. And I was wondering why you left me in such a hurry.”
The smile around his lips faded instantly and she noticed his grip tighten around the steering wheel. Perhaps it wasn’t the best place to find out that he didn’t like her enough to go out with her. Neither could escape for the hour it would take to reach Akaroa.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me. You just asked me what I was thinking about, that’s all.” She sighed into the silence. “Gabe always tells me I’m too honest for my own good.”
“Nothing wrong with honesty.”
She decided to count to ten and see if he continued. But it seemed he could cope with silence longer than she could.
“Anyway, my painting is coming along well.”
“That’s great,” David said in a very relieved voice, which sunk Amber’s heart even further. “When are you going to exhibit them?”
She turned to him, astonished. “Exhibit my work?” She twisted back in her chair and looked ahead. “Chance would be a fine thing. My work isn’t the kind of thing which galleries want. It’s not commercial enough, it’s not high-brow enough, it’s not… ever enough.”
“That’s just marketing. Your work is enough for you and there will be others like you.” She wondered if she heard a slight hesitancy as he finished the sentence. “Who,” he said with renewed strength in his voice, “would love to own your work. I mean, I own a couple of your paintings.”
“They were probably the best ones.”
“What are your others like?”
“Different. Would you like to see them?”
“Yes, I would. Very much.” Now this he said with a warmth which couldn’t be mistaken.
“Very good. Then you shall. When are you expected at your sister’s?”
“Anytime. I can text her to say I’ll be a bit late.”
