“Who needs a gym when they’ve got a folly?” I asked her, because I’d be feeling the climb in my quads for a while.
Her smile was a little preoccupied. “Listen, Ollie, could you make lunch today? I’ve got homework to do over the Easter break, and I haven’t actually touched any of it yet. I should make a start.”
“No problem.” I asked her what she was studying and we compared notes on English A level texts on the way back to the house. I’d enjoyed reading the books, even though our tutor had a thing for Victorian literature. Or maybebecauseshe’d had a thing for it. I’d loved the melodrama of the Brontës and Wilkie Collins. Not so much Jane Austen. Not enough happened in her books.
“She wasn’t a Victorian author, though,” Mia said as she opened the front door.
“And that would explain why I failed my exam,” I told her.
She grinned at me. “Thanks for this, Ollie. If you take Archer his lunch, make sure you don’t go into the workshop until he’s heard that you’re there and told you it’s safe to go in.”
It made sense to be careful around fire, but I wondered if Archer was this careful around everything—phone in the maze, company in the folly, permission in the workshop. Did it come from having kids around or was it more to do with control?
Now I came to think about it, who had brought up the kids? I hadn’t seen any family photos around the place. Obviously, oneof his parents must have died for him to become head, but what about the other one?
As I looked in the fridge and worked out what to make for lunch, I realised how little I knew about Archer. I’d have to remedy that.
ARCHER
“There you go.” Ollie was beaming with satisfaction as he put a plate down on my workbench. “Made it myself.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, and he was instantly crestfallen. “I mean, you shouldn’t havehadto do that. You’re our guest. But thank you,” I added, as he still looked rather squashed. For Ollie. Which was pretty damn perky for anyone else.
“Honestly, Archer, I think I’m going to go mad if you don’t let me pitch in around here. What am I supposed to do, sit and readJane Eyrein the library and wait for someone to bring me tea and cakes?”
“I’m not sure we have a copy ofJane Eyre,” I said.
“You know what I mean.”
I did. Damn it. I’d have to fill his days before June spotted the weakness and invited him to garden parties and art galleries and whatever else she did while Chris was working to afford their lifestyle. “If you’d like, come back when you’ve had lunch and I’ll show you a few of my sculptures.”
“You’re really inviting me to see your etchings?” Ollie’s eyes were bright with laughter.
God, if only I could.
“I can’t wait to see what you make,” he said, somehow having missed the big eagle sculpture in the middle of the workshop. I wasn’t going to draw his attention to it right now. I’d like to eat my omelette while it was still warm.
“Okay, well, I’ll see you later.” He sketched a wave at me.
“What’s that?” I grabbed his hand and examined the plaster on his thumb.
“I grated my thumb when I was doing the cheese. Don’t worry, I picked it all out.”
I eyed my omelette suspiciously. Perhaps I’d shift before I ate—my dragon wasn’t as fussy as I appeared to be.
“Come back in an hour or so, and I’ll show you round,” I said, and with a grin, he bounced out of the door.
I didn’t know where he found the energy to always be so enthusiastic. It seemed Ollie’s life was a succession of treats and excitement. I envied him, more than I could say.
OLLIE
“Oh my God.” I couldn’t find any other words. The eagle wasamazing.The open wings arched as if it were flying, and the statue was so big and its face so fierce that evenmydragon grumbled at the threat it conveyed. The bird was made from metal, but its lines flowed and curved as if it were alive, and the detailing on the feathers… “How do youdothis?”
“I’ll show you if you want.” Archer’s offer sounded offhand rather than enthusiastic, but I wanted to spend more time with him. Especially like this, where it was just the two of us. The sculpture was so incredible that I wasn’t even thinking about how he looked when pounding metal on his anvil. I wanted to know how he could make something so realistic and beautiful.
“I’d love that,” I said.
“This isn’t one of my favourites,” he said. “The clients want to mount it on a stone plinth to match other sculptures in their garden, but I think it needs to be on an open metal stand, talons gripping a bar as it leans at an angle. But this is the design theypicked out of the ones I sketched for them, and the client is always right.”
