He led us into a studio that was almost as large as the factory unit I was working in. He beckoned us over to a canvas covered in a white cloth, removing it with a ‘ta-da’ which made me giggle.
‘What do you think?’ His eyes were as wide as a child’s waiting for approval from a parent. I must admit to gasping when I looked. It was an image of a younggirl on the rocks by the sea. Beside her, a teenage boy was showing her a starfish. The image was simple but extremely emotive as they gazed at each other with wonder in their eyes. I had to admit, for a wedding anniversary present it was perfect.
‘This is incredible.’ Martin’s eyes were as wide as Richard’s. ‘Mum will love it.’ He reached for a wad of notes from his pocket and counted it out on the workbench. Richard’s eyes were on me and I blushed at his stare. I smiled shyly and he returned it.
When Martin got to five hundred pounds, I could barely disguise my astonishment. I had no idea paintings would go for that much. I lived in a council house on a rough estate. My dad did a runner when I was little and there was only me and my sister left with my mum. So five hundred pounds was so much money.
‘Leave it at that,’ Richard said, still looking my way.
‘You said five fifty on the phone.’
‘It’s fine.’
Martin beamed and handed him the money. ‘Thanks very much.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ I said, arms folded at Martin’s stupidity.
Both men looked at me, waiting to be enlightened.
‘That’s never going to fit in the Mini.’
‘Sure it will,’ Martin said, although looking doubtful.
‘If it won’t, I’ll deliver it,’ Richard said. ‘It’s for a special occasion. It’s no problem. Here, take my contactdetails regardless.’ He handed me a business card. I looked at it.
Richard Sykes-Morgan. Artist.
I could feel him staring at me again and I looked up. Somehow in that moment, I knew he would ask me out. We had a connection, something I couldn’t explain.
True to my thoughts, the Mini was not the transport vehicle Martin should have chosen. But there had been no one else available to take him, nor loan him a van. We said our goodbyes and came away with our money. Richard refused to take it from Martin until the painting was with him.
‘Nice bloke,’ Martin said as we trundled down the dirt track again.
‘Hmm.’
‘He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. It’s a pity he lives so far away. Pretty nice place he has there, don’t you think?’
He nudged me and then winked. I laughed and said nothing. But it was exactly what I was thinking. Imagine me living in something like that.
‘But what would I do in the middle of nowhere?’
‘I’m sure you can think of something.’
I slapped his arm playfully. But all the way back to Derby I thought about Richard, and his smile, his eyes and his rugby player body. And figured out how I could orchestrate being there when he delivered the painting.
CHAPTER SIX
The village of Mapleton dates back to 1843. Along its narrow high street, there were all manner of shops. A family run supermarket with a post office. A florist, hairdresser and a small coffee shop. A butcher and delicatessen. An Italian restaurant, a chip shop and a takeaway.
Further along was the one pub set back behind a pond and a green, the road widening on the bend into almost a square. A church and a hall, a community centre and school, all self-contained with lots of passing traffic via the main road.
It was a long way from what Juliette was used to but it was different in its own right. She had wandered up and down the length of it twice now, getting acquainted with its people, the feel of it all.
As she came out of the butcher’s, she spotted a woman walking past. ‘Sarah?’ she said, smiling whenshe turned. She wasn’t sure but she thought she saw a look of panic on her face before a smile appeared. ‘Hi, it’s Juliette. I’ve just moved in next door.’
Sarah was a tall thin woman, almost emaciated in her look. Juliette reckoned she was one of those women who could eat anything and get away with it, a swimmer’s build. Or maybe netball, an asset to a team as she stretched to score an easy goal. Her long blonde hair hung loose, in need of a trim, hollow cheekbones standing out but making her look remarkably pretty. She wore a pale blue maxi dress and flat sandals, her shopping in a tartan bag.
‘Oh, yes, hi. Are you settling in okay?’ Sarah asked.
