Please don't bring the dildo. Please don't bring the dildo.
"And this," Ida said, "is what I made." There it was—the dildo in all its glory.
Archer sucked in a breath and covered Otis's and Theo's eyes as Ida walked slowly around the room with her piece of pottery. I had visions of my life, dreams, and ambitions collapsing around me in a fiery inferno.
Then Zarah clapped her hands, laughing. "This is brilliant! I love this! Finally someone who knows how to have fun with art. This is really delightful."
She bent down to smile at Otis and Theo. "And you even have children involved. What a fabulous idea to have children and elderly together, creating. It's so very European. Marvelous, simply marvelous!"
"You should see the edible body paint," Ida continued. "Oh, go on, Hazel. Show the woman."
I wanted to die. Archer, for once, looked stunned.
"Edible body paint?" Matt asked.
"It tastes good," Ida said. "Hazel is a real good cook."
"When did you have it?" I demanded.
"I made Jemma steal it for me," Ida said.
My face burned. The judges all seemed taken aback. Zarah cackled. "Don't get your panties in a bunch over a little creative foreplay. Why, you should have seen me in the seventies. Nowtherewas a time for art. I was in an artist commune in Wyoming, and a woman there made edible body paint. I've never been able to replicate it. She took the recipe with her to an early grave unfortunately."
Ida pulled a little glass vial out of her bag. I resisted the urge to snatch it from her.
"This is perfect. Have you used it?" Zarah asked me as she inspected the vial.
I nodded. I didn't dare speak.
"On him, I presume?" Zarah asked craftily, looking at Archer.
"With whipped cream," I said faintly. McKenna had a high flush on her cheeks.
Zarah linked arms with Ida. "It's a pleasure to meet a woman with a true artistic spirit. You're coming to the gala, I'm sure?"
"I'm on the VIP list," Ida bragged.
"I'm drinking beforehand. At my age, you have to do everything and anything to take the edge off. Come have an aperitif with me, Ida. I need to hear all about your creative vision. Can I keep this, and you'll send me more of course?" Zarah demanded, waving the bottle of edible body paint at me.
"Of course," I said, my voice cracking.
"I need to sit down," I muttered to Archer as the judges all went out the door to the next gallery. Archer shoved a bottle of brandy in my hand. I took a swig and coughed.
"Ida to the rescue, I guess," he said as I took another swig.
"Sure. Why not?"
* * *
There werea few galleries in Harrogate. McKenna insisted that none of them were as well curated as hers, so she was the last stop on the tour.
I looked around at the paintings hung carefully on the wall in McKenna's gallery.
"This is a Gergiev original," she said, pointing to one painting. I knew that artist; I wrote a paper in school about her artwork. She was big in the seventies, and her paintings still sold well.
I studied the painting while McKenna talked about how prestigious her gallery was. The painting looked—well, it looked off. When McKenna's back was turned, I hung back and took several photos with my phone.
* * *
