Stamatis yawned.
“Never mind,” Skye said.
She was still brooding that afternoon when George arrived for his Wednesday lesson, followed soon after by Iris and Ajax, chaperoned over from the mini-market by Joy.
“Found these two nippers driving their mum up the wall,” she said as the three children ran out into the back garden. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to bring them to class a bit early.”
“If only I had a classroom,” Skye said.
Joy bent to inspect the stack of paint cans, the straps of her brightly patterned dress slipping from her shoulders.
“ ‘Conch,’ ” she read aloud. “Why they can’t just call it peach, I’ll never know.”
“I thought you’d approve of pretentious names for colors,” Skye said. “Don’t all artists go on about burnt umbers and morning-room greens?”
“Some,” Joy agreed, “but not all—and not bloody me. A spade’s a spade, a shrimp’s a shrimp, and this color is one hundred percent peach.”
“I hope I ordered enough,” Skye mused. “It’s going to take me forever to paint the entire bedroom.”
Joy broke into a grin.
“Not if you bag yourself a few helpers,” she said.
Skye rounded up George, Iris, and Ajax while Joy hurried home to pick up some paint-stained T-shirts for the children to wear over their clothes. Once upstairs, they pushed the furniture into the center of the room and spread dust sheets across the floor.
“This is your wall,” Skye told George, handing him a brush. “It’s up to you what you do. You can paint something or practice your fractions or write a poem. Whatever you want.”
George shook his mop of unruly curls from over his eyes.
“And I can just paint it all over the wall?”
In answer, Skye dipped her own brush into the open can and drew a large, rather crude daisy below the window.
“Sick,” George said. “I’m going to do a rocket.”
Ajax withdrew his finger from his nose, while Iris fussed with the hem of her oversized T-shirt. The fabric fell well past her knees, her bare feet poking out beneath it.
“Joy is going to paint some animals,” Skye told them, “and I’m going to teach you the English names for them.”
In a few quick strokes, the head of an elephant appeared on the wall in front of them.
“Eléfantas!” Ajax cried.
Skye printed the word below the image and encouraged the two children to do the same. Soon they had a cat, a dog, a chicken, a crocodile, and a giraffe as well, and one wall was almost entirely covered in paint. George had nearly completed his rocket and was busy adding faces to the small windows.
“That’s me, Dad, and Mum,” he said.
Skye and Joy exchanged a look.
“Shall I do some planets?” he went on. “Did you know it’s really windy on Saturn? Dad said it might even be windier than it is here.”
“Surely not?” Joy said, squatting to paint a beetle.
“Skathári!” Iris chimed.
—
“We make a good team, don’t we?” Skye said to Joy a few hours later. The children were sitting happily on a blanket in the back garden, slices of fresh watermelon on a plate between them. Ajax squealed as a butterfly landed on his outstretched leg, and George leaned in toward Iris, whispering something that made her giggle.
