Aw, cripes. The poor thing must have been crossing its legs for hours. Remorse crept in. ‘OK, so maybe you’re not. Although you did keep me up all night. That sofa is not built for sleeping on.’
The rattle of the postbox made Ella turn, her foot twisting and slipping in the bowl. At the bottom of the path, the departing postman grinned and gave her a very cheery wave. What did he have to be so . . . Oh hell, standing right in front of the kitchen window, she’d just flashed him a full moon.
Heat rose like a tidal wave, turning her whole body beet red.
She’d been working for two hours and achieved sod all. Cuthbert, his brothers and sister, Catherine, looked like marauding rodent vandals instead of cute, winsome, mischievous mice with their own individual characters. At the moment the cast list could be Vampire Mouse, Zombie Mouse and Mouse Who’d Most Like To Do You Harm in the Middle of the Night. Ella lowered her head and banged it lightly on the table.
The dog appeared in the doorway, its head tilted as if trying to figure out what this strange woman was up to. ‘Don’t bother, mate,’ snapped Ella. ‘I’ve lost the plot completely.’ She looked back down at her drawing board. The light was wrong, that was it. With a huff of annoyance, she stood up. The dog bounced up, its tail batting at her legs.
‘Don’t get your hopes up. I’m busy.’
Maybe if she moved the drawing board to the right under the skylight, it might be better.
Ten minutes later after faffing about with the desk angle, the chair height and the positioning, she sat back down and picked up her pencil again. She held it poised over the paper, staring at her fingers. Cuthbert’s image wouldn’t come.
She threw down the pencil and stood up again. The dog, which had wandered off to the corner, suddenly darted back towards her, barrelling past a small side table and knocking it flying.
‘Oh, for God’s sake.’
As the contents of the table tumbled down, sliding across the floor in a kaleidoscope pattern, the scent of lavender and rosemary perfumed the air. Stooping to gather up the scattered bags of herbs, another one of Magda’s more recent eccentricities, her foot nudged a navy blue shoebox-shaped package tied with a silver-grey ribbon. Across one corner, her name stood out, silver against the darker background.
For a second her heart lifted. A parcel.
The dog shadowed every footstep, nudging her legs as she carried the package back to the drawing table and put it in the middle of the stark white cartridge paper, her fingers smoothing along the ribbon.
‘I’ll take you out for a walk soon.’
A long-forgotten frisson of excitement sizzled in her fingertips. Memories surfaced, taking flight like butterflies. Peeling back gossamer-fine tissue paper to find a silver necklace edged with tiny dragonflies, opening up a box to reveal a pretty bracelet of twisted wire, amethyst and aquamarine crystals, unwrapping a filigree compact mirror and pulling a tiny framed paper silhouette of a tree against the moon from a gift bag. Magda had some secret intuition when it came to finding and giving the perfect gift. One you often had no idea you wanted.Her whimsical and thoughtful presents were things Ella would never have considered buying for herself but instantly fell in love with. The mirror was still in her bag. The necklace, bracelet and picture, which Patrick had quite liked, mainly because it was valuable, were all somewhere downstairs in one of the still-packed suitcases abandoned in Magda’s bedroom.
Gifts when you were a grown-up never had quite the same magic about them, not like this one shimmering with promise.
She tugged at the ends of the silver-grey bow, watching as the silk ribbon slithered free and pooled on the table. Lifting the lid, she parted the glitter-spangled tissue paper. A sheet of navy blue paper rested on top of the contents and like the one downstairs, contained a few brief lines in Magda’s slanting script.
Open your heart and you open your eyes
Letting go will loosen the ties
Free your mind and your talent will soar
Let in the light to open the door
With a shake of her head she put the piece of paper to one side. It was sweet of Magda and she appreciated the sentiment but it didn’t work like that. If only. She delved into the tissue paper and brought out several tubes of paint.
Nice thought, Magda. Sadly, she put everything back and firmly closed the lid, surprised by the little lump in her throat. It had been such a thoughtful gift, so typical of her godmother. And it was a terrible shame. Guilt tugged at her – Magda must have spent a fortune on all these Newton & Windsor tubes. There were some expensive pigments in there. She wasn’t to know that painting with watercolours was a bit naff.
Beside her the dog nudged her again.
‘OK,’ she snapped, decisively. ‘We’re going.’ Anything to get out of here and away from her stupid up and down emotions.
Chapter Five
The stupid dog lay on the doormat waiting for her, leaping to attention as she hobbled up the path. Today’s walk had been a complete disaster. With some effort she peeled off her filthy jeans, abandoning them on the doorstep to examine the damage. A livid bruise, purple with a smaller red centre, crowned her knee.
‘Oh dear, had an accident, have we?’ a hearty voice hailed her from the other side of the fence.
Startled, she looked up, tugging down her jumper to mid-thigh. At this rate if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get a reputation as the local flasher.
‘Something like that.’ Ella gave the man leaning on the fence a terse smile.
