Selena wanted to transfer the vivid images of the landscape in her dream straight onto the canvas. The scene was still fresh in her mind: a hill in the countryside, the colours all warm coppers and russets, a crimson sun hidden behind the peaks, a storm looming. She recalled the clumps of gorse in the foreground, scrubby yellow bushes, the elm tree and the dry-stone wall, a patchwork of grey and brown slabs stacked horizontally.
She loaded her brush with paint and waved it across the canvas, making broad strokes, defining the hills, the skies, the wall. The dream was playing over in her mind, the emotions still alive, buzzing through her veins: she still felt the loss and sadness she had experienced as she’d opened the door to the faceless child; she was still gripped by the sense of powerlessness as she had been hurled up through the ceiling into the attic. But Selena felt instinctively that if she painted the landscape scene from the viewpoint of herself, the person riding in a horse-drawn wagon on the road gazing at the surroundings, the act of creating the scene would allow her time to put her thoughts into place.
Selena was amazed how easy it was to render the scene exactly as she had visualised it in the dream. She knew Claire would love it; she’d put the painting on the Ariel Art website in no time. And Nick would be impressed with it too: he’d love the colours she was using. Selena thought about Nick while she was painting; his easy-going nature appealed to her: he was unhurried, undemanding, thoughtful. She found herself comparing him to David, who had always been persistent, obstinate, inclined to sulk if he couldn’t have his way. Selena realised she was frowning: her relationship with David had taken her to a place where she had been continually striving to please him, trying to find new ways to make him love her; then, once she’d found out about Veronica’s existence, she was desperate for him to commit. He had doled out his affection by degrees, so that she would sometimes feel adored and at other times unworthy. She promised herself she would never allow herself to be in such a situation again, not ever.
An hour passed, two. She had started to fill the canvas and the scene was bursting into life. The hills were bathed in pink light as if the sun was setting; the overall impression was an unchanging landscape, forever constant; day might become night and one year, one century, might lead to another, but little else would change, as if the land was an anchor and could be relied upon not to alter when everything around it was whirling forward blindly.
Selena felt the buzz of her phone in her pocket and held it to her ear. ‘Claire. I was just thinking of you. How are you? How are things going at the gallery? I’m painting a picture I know you’ll love.’
‘Oh? All’s fine. Somewhere local you’ve visited?’
‘No, it was an image from a dream. It’s a sunset, a country scene.’
‘Great. I have some good news for you too. Can you put me up in your cottage for a whole week?’
‘Oh, lovely – yes, of course.’
‘Only, I thought we could both paint together in your conservatory.’ Claire’s voice was rushed with excitement. ‘Then I could take the pictures back and we’ll have such an incredible stock to sell. We could even organise an exhibition.’
‘Great. When are you coming down?’
‘I thought I’d come on Monday the thirtieth. It’s a bank holiday. I’ll drive down really early, first thing, and travel back on the Saturday if that’s okay.’
‘It will be wonderful to have you to stay. What a great idea. What about the gallery?’
‘Well, I think Gulliver is ready to take over – he’ll be fine by himself. He’s very confident, and we get on really well. We went for a drink together yesterday and we were talking about uni days, some of the people we both knew, and those we’ve lost contact with. He remembers Flynn, your ex: apparently he’s married with kids now.’
‘Oh?’ Selena took a breath, not sure how to reply. Then she said, ‘I can’t wait for you to come down.’
‘I thought we could have barbecues in the garden and walks in the woods. You can take me to some of the great places you’ve visited – and the village pub too…’
Selena laughed. ‘And between all that we’ll get lots of painting done.’
‘It will be so good to see you. I miss you.’
‘You too.’ Selena thought for a moment about how she’d grown to love the solitude of Sloe Cottage, but how pleasant it would be for her to spend time with her friend again. ‘So, Monday the thirtieth it is.’
‘That’s so exciting,’ Claire said. ‘It’s a shame I can’t bring Gulliver with me – I’d love you to meet him, but I took him on to mind the gallery. Maybe another time…’
‘That would be nice, Claire.’
‘And send me photos of any new paintings – send the sunset you’re working on now.’
‘I will.’
‘Right, well, I must crack on. I’ll give Gulliver a ring and tell him the good news. Lots of love, Selena. See you on the thirtieth.’
There was a click and Claire was gone. Selena turned her attention back to her painting, feeling calm and happy as she loaded her brush and applied thick strokes. She wanted to recreate her dream exactly as she remembered it, making the colours vibrant and alive. But as she painted, the picture took on a more brooding tone. Amid the blood-spattered sunset, dark undulating fields and turbulent clouds crowded the canvas and it stirred a new uneasy feeling within her.
The next morning, Laura called round to Sloe Cottage in her car; they were going to Joely and Matty’s place for lunch. Laura was gripping the steering wheel with excitement.
‘I’ve driven past their field so often but never stopped there; the location in the hills is incredible and both Joely and Matty are great foragers, so I’m sure we’ll get something wonderful to eat.’
Selena leaned back in the passenger seat. ‘It’s nice to have some time off. I worked into the early hours to finish a painting. I sent a photo of it to Claire just before I came out. It’s great to have time out and relax.’
‘You do look a bit peaky. The fresh air up at Joely’s will do you the world of good.’
‘I had a weird dream while I was dozing by the fire yesterday and I can’t stop thinking about it. I didn’t sleep well after that. It shook me a bit, if I’m honest.’
‘Ooh,’ Laura glanced towards her. ‘I love dreams. Do tell me about it. I always try to interpret dreams – I did psychology A level and that left me full of the joys of analysis. I’m always dreaming that I’m in the classroom dressed in a clown costume and all the children laugh at me.’ She was suddenly serious. ‘So what did you dream?’
‘The worst bit was that I saw a child with no face, a little girl, and she spoke to me. She said that she would come back. Then I was whizzing through the air as if propelled like magic and I couldn’t stop myself.’
‘Classic dream, falling, flying, out of control.’ Laura turned the car into a narrow lane, travelling up hill. ‘It means there are areas of your life you can’t do anything about and you feel powerless.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right.’ Selena was thinking of David, relieved that she would hear no more from him now that she had blocked his calls. ‘And what about the child with no face?’
Laura sighed. ‘I think that’s to do with the miscarriage, Selena. Perhaps the yet-unknown child is telling you that you’ll meet again, but it won’t be this time.’
Selena shuddered, suddenly cold. ‘Oh, my goodness – do you believe that?’
‘I don’t know.’ Laura slowed the car; the hill was becoming steeper, pale green in the strong sunlight. ‘I hope so. You’ll meet someone nice one day, and you’ll start a family, if that’s what you want.’
‘I think I might…’ Selena said.
‘Well, good luck with that.’ Laura glanced at her, glasses flashing. ‘I’ve never thought about having kids of my own. I suppose I haven’t made my mind up yet. And I’d have to find a man first, although I’m not sure I want to lose my independence. I always love the kids I taught at school best – which reminds me, Selena – I hope you’re still up for the art class at Ashcombe Primary on Thursday.’
‘Yes, definitely.’
The car bumped along uneven ground, then Laura moved the steering wheel sharply to the left and they drove through open gates into a large field surrounded by overhanging trees. A caravan was parked to one side, beneath the shelter of a sweeping willow, and Matty was chopping wood in a vest and jeans. He waved a hand as the car came to a halt, then put down his axe and walked over.
‘Hello, both. Nice to see you. Joely is in the caravan. She’s just finished making lunch, so you’re bang on time.’
They sat in the open field at a wooden table set for four, with ceramic tumblers and a flagon of water with mint and lemon. Joely placed bowls of salad and pasta in front of them. Laura inhaled, smiling. ‘The food smells absolutely heavenly. What is it?’
Joely sat down. ‘It’s home-made tagliatelle and a pesto I created: chickweed, garlic, olive oil and walnuts. And the salad has sorrel in it and some mallow. I love using fresh mallow. The leaves are full of protein, calcium, iron, vitamin C.’
‘I’ve never had mallow before…’ Selena helped herself to salad.
‘It’s great to treat all sorts – everything from coughs to constipation.’
‘That’s fascinating. Were all the ingredients foraged around here?’ Laura asked.
‘No, November is the best month for foraging,’ Joely replied. ‘I grew the garlic and the sorrel – the chickweed is from the woodlands.’ She pointed into the distance.
‘And all this land around the caravan belongs to you?’ Selena wondered.
‘It does.’ Matty poured water into the tumblers. ‘This field, the surrounding woodlands, as far as the hedgerows over there, which are great for blackberries and sloes in the autumn.’
‘You have a sloe tree, don’t you, Selena?’ Laura stopped munching. ‘That’s why the place is called Sloe Cottage.’
‘It’s a blackthorn tree,’ Joely explained. ‘It’s a shame you won’t be here in November, Selena. You could pick the sloes and make sloe gin.’ She pointed to a tree in the distance. ‘My elder tree over there is so wonderful to me. I make elderflower cordial and champagne in May, then elderberry wine in the late summer.’
‘You should try some.’ Matty raised an eyebrow in jest. ‘Although you won’t want to drive after the elderflower champagne. It’s strong stuff.’
‘Claire’s coming down to stay soon and we’ll have a barbecue – you will all come?’ Selena glanced from face to face. ‘Maybe we can try some elderflower champagne then?’
‘Oh, I’d love that,’ Laura said, rubbing her hands together. She patted Joely’s arm. ‘How did you learn so much about plants and trees and things?’
‘Some of it’s been handed down from my mother and gran – some of it is my own research.’ Joely leaned back. ‘For example, I was just talking about the elder tree. Did you know that people once believed that if you burned elder wood, you’d see the Devil, but if you planted elder by your house, it would keep the Devil away?’
Laura shuddered. ‘Some of these old beliefs are really scary.’
‘Living around here, we’re steeped in the old traditions, and it’s important not to forget them. They belong to the people who went before us,’ Matty said thoughtfully. ‘Sometimes, especially at sunset, you can feel it in the air. Joely and I often sit down and watch the sunset and we both say there’s a real sense of time standing still, as if all the old ways are still here with us, as if the past somehow seeps through into the present.’
Selena’s eyes widened. ‘That’s so true – do you know, I just painted a sunset picture, and that describes exactly the atmosphere I wanted to create…’ She recalled Matty’s words. ‘Just like you said, the old ways are still here with us – at times, the past somehow oozes through.’
‘I’d love to see the painting,’ Joely said.
‘It’s here, on my phone – I sent a picture of it to Claire this morning.’ Selena passed her phone to Joely and, as she stared at it, Matty moved to gaze over her shoulder.
‘I know where that is,’ Joely said suddenly.
‘It’s up the lane, just before the road becomes the crossroads, the border between the two counties,’ Matty added.
Joely pointed with her finger. ‘The stone wall’s quite ancient in your painting, but it’s been recently rebuilt, and it looks much tidier now.’
Matty was amazed. ‘And you’ve never been up the lane here before, Selena?’
‘No, never.’ Selena suddenly felt cold. She thought of how she had dozed in front of the fire; a voice, just a whisper, had described it in her ear.
Laura had joined Joely and Matty to stare at the picture. ‘Oh, yes – it’s the view across the top of Wychanger Lane. This part is Somerset and that is where Devon begins. It’s a really pretty sunset…’
‘But the painting has a really eerie feeling,’ Matty said.
Selena frowned: that word again, eerie.
‘It’s mournful, I think – the setting sun is like an ending,’ Joely added. ‘But it’s so beautiful. I love it, Selena.’
‘Oh, I wish I could buy it – I’d put it in my bedroom.’ Laura’s face shone with admiration. ‘This is a local beauty spot.’
Selena shook her head. She was mystified that she’d painted a place she’d never been to. Despite the warmth of the early summer sunshine, her skin was chilled. She glanced from Matty to Laura, then to Joely. ‘Do you think we could go up there, to the crossroads between the two counties, and look across the countryside?’ She was intrigued. ‘I want to see the place for myself…’