“I have never been so embarrassed in my whole life, Alina. How could you do that to me?”
“I apologize, Anna. It was a bad idea but I really wanted to get a look at him.”
“Well, you certainly did that and did you notice how fast you chased him away? I doubt I will hear from him again after that fiasco.”
“But you looked like you were getting along so well together. Susan and I thought you were quite a nice couple, gazing across the table at each other.”
“That’s another thing. How could you inveigle Susan into this mess? I’ll bet it wasn’t her idea!”
“Well, no, I kind of forced her into it, but, in my defense, she was just as curious as I was. We don’t want you to be duped into anything by some unscrupulous fellow who will just take your money and run.”
“Thank you very much for your confidence in my ability to take care of myself!”
“Now, don’t get defensive, Anna. We were only looking after your best interests. You hardly know the guy and there you were enjoying long looks across the coffee cups like a couple of teenagers.”
“I beg your pardon! That was a business meeting and I was beginning to get to grips with exactly what I wanted from him before you two barged in with your feeble excuses and scared him off.”
Anna thought it advisable to keep secret the incredible insights Lawren had revealed to her. Now was not the time to give her friend any more ammunition against the artist. After all, it was true that she would not likely hear from him again. She turned away so that Alina would not read on her face the disappointment this thought created.
“Look, my dear, I am so sorry for upsetting you. Perhaps it’s best that he ran off so fast. We may have saved you from a terrible disappointment.”
“If there is any disappointment, it will be because a special project I really wanted to complete is now impossible before we leave for Scotland.”
With this final word, Anna stormed out of the kitchen and headed for her bedroom leaving a stricken Alina wondering if she had misinterpreted the entire situation.
Lawren Drake had not slept all night. Since rushing back to his studio he had devoted his attention to sketching Anna’s face, and also that of Helen Dunlop, and trying a variety of positions for the two heads. Slightly overlapping looked too much like a ceremonial coin and head to head was too aggressive.
For an hour or two during the night when the building was all but vacant and the stillness of the night sharpened his inner focus, he turned to the background of the painting. What elements could capture the personalities of these two women? Each tiny item would be highly significant as an indicator of their lives and times. It came to him that books were a common connection. Anna had been a teacher and librarian and Helen had revealed her story through diaries and letters. He quickly added a book which he placed in Anna’s hands, or where her hands would be in a finished portrait.
He stepped back and considered the effect. No, the book was a link between the women so it needed to be passed from one to the other as their stories were passed from one generation to another.
This made him wonder if three women were involved in the story. He sketched, very lightly, a ghost-like figure of Anna’s mother fading into the background. That seemed more interesting but he was not sure. The background was becoming more insistent. He needed to solve the problem of what lay behind the figures.
The obvious thing was the house in Scotland. The portrait would hang on the wall of that house so it made sense to incorporate the very thing that had brought Anna from Canada to Scotland in the first place. The only problem with this idea was that he had no clear vision of the house and Anna had not supplied a picture. If there was to be a house in the background, it had to be the authentic building not one made up out of his head, that would be essential to the integrity of the painting.
He stopped for a moment and rubbed his tired eyes. He was creating more problems, not finding any solutions. He had only himself to blame for this dilemma. Once he had broken his rule to work only with live subjects, he had wandered off a path where he knew his way. Yet, he was now committed.
There was something about Anna Mason that captured his interest and he knew from long experience that this was the sign of something good to come. In all the successful portraits he had ever completed, this very feeling of deep interest had been a prime factor in his perseverance and eventual artistic satisfaction.
He threw down his pencils in frustration and was about to rip the cartridge paper from its place on his easel, when he decided to re-evaluate what he had done in the light of morning, after he had achieved a few hours of sleep.
His bedroom was hidden in an alcove behind a curtain and consisted of a futon liberally piled with blankets and pillows. A small television sat on a three-drawer chest and this served as a table to hold a bedside lamp. Neither the television nor the lamp, were much used. By the time he gave up working in the evening it was his practice to flop into the nest of pillows, adjust the covers and sink immediately into sleep. His final thought as he pulled blankets over his working clothes was that he was glad Anna Mason had not caught even a glimpse of his spartan sleeping conditions. Her pity was not something he ever wished to confront.
When he opened his eyes it was close to noon. The light flooding into his studio from the skylight in the roof indicated the time of day was perfect for painting. He dragged himself out of the tangle of bedcovers and yawned hugely as he filled an electric kettle at the tap in the stone sink, liberally decorated with paint splashes, and emptied the last of his instant coffee into a metal mug which he favoured because it held the heat inside even when he forgot to drink.
Holding this mug he positioned himself in front of the easel and angled it so as to catch the northern light perfectly.
Now what?
As sometimes happened, the sketches of the previous night held a germ of an idea that just might be workable. He retrieved a pencil and began to rough in a foreground where the figures of Anna and Helen would take predominance. Behind them, in the middle ground, would be the house, and here he drew a featureless box. In the distant background a hill rising to the sky would complete the scene.
Once again the lack of detail about the house and the hill Anna referred to as ‘Helen’s Hill, brought his frustration alive. There was nothing else for it. He would have to contact Anna again and plead for any photographs she had in her possession. Until then, he could work on the faces of the two women.
As soon as he felt he had captured Anna’s spirit he would invite her back to see an initial painting. This would take a few days to accomplish to his satisfaction but would be, he admitted to himself, by far the most pleasant and easy section of the work. Yes, he said aloud. I will enjoy this part.
Working mostly from memory he began to deepen the light pencil lines of his original sketch. He found her face came quickly and he reached for coloured pencils to try to capture the colour of her hair and the blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when she laughed.
The coffee mug stood abandoned on his stool as he brought Anna Mason to life with a few dexterous strokes. This was what he lived for; the power that flowed through his fingers and transformed blank white paper into a living, breathing being.
The sun slid down the sky and Lawren Drake gently nudged his easel across the floor to capture every last ray of its light. He did this unconsciously. He was immersed in another world where nothing mattered at all compared to the creativity that commanded him. Occasionally, he closed his eyes briefly, but the pencil continued to move inexorably as if it had a life of its own.
When the light had all but faded, he stepped back and without looking at his efforts, took a washroom break which involved leaving the studio and walking across the landing to a facility shared with the tenant in the other studio apartment. As usual, the washroom was vacant. The other tenant was an older man who appeared rarely. Lawren had spoken to him only a couple of times and it had occurred to him to wonder what his purpose was for a studio apartment which he seldom used. This suited Lawren, however, as he had almost exclusive use of the top floor.
Washing and shaving occupied a few minutes. By the time he had finished his ablutions, hunger was making itself felt. He returned to his studio, grabbed wallet and keys then ran down the stairs to retrieve his bicycle from a locked shed at the rear of the property.
A ride to the university would clear his head and he could eat at one of the student cafeterias where the prices suited his income. He fit in perfectly with the varied student population and often used the library facilities for research or browsing through their vast collection of art works, looking for inspiration.
Tonight the community centre cafeteria was noisy and bubbling with the energy of evening class students. Lawren chose a meal from the daily specials board and decided to eat his food in one of the secluded courtyards he had discovered at the rear of nearby college buildings. A stone bench served as table and seat. A convenient, and, he noted, well-designed, garbage/recycling receptacle, soon received his meal’s plastic cover, paper plate and napkin. He stowed the disposable plastic utensils in his jacket pocket for later use. Dishwashing was not one of his few domestic activities.
With hunger satisfied, he waited for a sense of relaxation to enter his mind but instead he felt more revved up than before. The moonlit night was calm, the air cool, the paper coffee cup comforting and the surrounding under-lit plant beds soothing to the eyes, yet he could not rest. He needed to see the results of his day’s work on the easel in his studio. Once the thought had entered his mind there was nothing for it but to return home immediately.
As soon as he unlocked the studio door and clicked on the overhead light, he knew what was disturbing his peace of mind. The initial portrait of Anna on cartridge paper was there in front of him and even through the prism of his high standards he knew it was superb. A few deft touches and the application of custom-mixed oil paint colours that he instinctively combined in his mind as he looked at the sketch, would ensure the compelling figure was captured accurately as the centre of the work.
Her head was turned slightly so that she would gaze out at the person viewing the painting but she was firmly embedded in the background also. He had caught that quizzical expression that he had first noticed when they met at her London home. It seemed perfect to imbue the feeling of the mystery she had undertaken when Helen Dunlop came into Anna’s life. He was surprised to see that his attempt at the less distinct figure of Helen, drawn just behind Anna, was more successful than he had hoped.
His fingers itched to pull out a canvas, stretch it onto the easel and begin the oil portrait, but something stopped him. The atmosphere of the piece depended on the background. He knew this element could subtly affect everything in the foreground, particularly the figures.
Without further thought he dialed Anna’s number on his cell phone. When he heard it ringing he realized he had no idea of the hour and it was too late to wonder if he was disturbing her household. After three rings, he almost cancelled the call when a female voice responded.
“Hello!”
“Yes, this is Lawren Drake. Could I speak to Anna Mason please?”
A silence met this request. Lawren had a sudden image of his rapid exit from the coffee pub and the expression on the face of one of the women who had interrupted his meeting with Anna. The person on the line must be Anna’s friend Alina and her first impression of him could not have been positive.
“Just a minute. I’ll get her for you.”
No polite conversation then. He waited, scarcely breathing.
Alina found Anna watching television and informed her, “That artist guy is on the phone for you.” She could not resist a cautionary comment as Anna jumped up from the sofa. “Now, don’t be tricked into anything until you’ve seen his work.”
Ignoring this unwanted advice, Anna walked quickly into the small office so she could close the door and have privacy during her conversation.
“Anna here. Can you hold on a moment?” Without waiting for an answer she listened until she heard the other phone click into its base. “Sorry! I wanted to be sure we could talk freely.”
“Does that mean your friend dislikes me?”
“No! I wouldn’t say that, but she is protective of me and she doesn’t really know you yet.”
Encouraged by the sound of that word, ‘yet’, Lawren felt emboldened to jump right into the reason for his late call.
“I’ve been working full out on your portrait, Anna, but I’ve come up against a problem.”
“Really? I gave you the photographs just yesterday. Surely you haven’t finished the project?”
“Not a chance!”
Anna detected the chuckle in his words and felt embarrassed that she had said such a foolish thing. “But, the good news is that I am remarkably pleased with my progress!”
“That’s wonderful! Then what is the problem you mentioned?”
“Well, I need a good photograph of the house and the site. It is going to be an essential element in the background and I want it to be accurate.”
Anna’s heart sank when she heard this. She was no photographer. She cast around in her memory to see if she had actually taken any photographs of the house. She knew there were photos taken from the top of Helen’s Hill but that would not suit his purpose. There were interior photos taken after the renovations were completed, but again, not what he was looking for.
“I………. I’m afraid I don’t have anything here, but you could check out the web site where they advertise the property for rental. I think there are some shots there that might be useful. Oh, and my young friend Fiona is an expert photographer, I could ask her to take some for you and send them online. Oh, no, on second thoughts, she’s in Inverness at the moment. That won’t work. I’m so sorry! Is this going to hold up your progress?”
“It could do. I am conscious of your deadline of the end of May. I’ll look at the source you suggested and see if it is what I need. Don’t worry! We’ll sort something out. Bye.”
In spite of his hopeful words, Anna could tell that Lawren was disappointed. She quickly turned on the desk computer and called up the website for holiday rentals in Scotland. There were, indeed, several photographs of the property but they were taken at a distance in order to display the superb setting rather than the house itself. Interior photographs were the main feature of the mini video. People needed to see the accommodations they would be acquiring.
Anna realized Lawren would not be satisfied with the site photos. She waited for another call from him to tell her so, but the phone was silent.
As the minutes passed, she grew more and more annoyed with the way things were developing with the portrait project. She had had such high hopes initially, but now everything was falling apart and she would not be able to take the finished work to Scotland for the June visit. It looked as if Alina was right about the futility of it all and Anna hated the thought of admitting it to her.
Her annoyance was mainly with herself and not with the artist. He had made every effort to meet her unrealistic demands and now she was adding another difficulty. It all seemed to stem from the choice he had agreed to, when he said he would take on the job even although it was impossible to work with a live model of Helen.
Anna felt guilt flood through her. She had insulted this man’s expertise by demanding one compromise after another. How could he be proud of the finished portrait if he could not work with the authentic setting?
An idea came to Anna. It was impulsive and irrational, perhaps. Alina was not likely to agree but it felt right in the moment and Anna hit redial on her phone before she could change her mind.
“Lawren? I think I have a solution to the problem. What do you think of coming to Scotland with Alina and me?”
“I beg your pardon? Repeat that please. I’m sure I heard you wrong.”
“No, you did not. I feel so guilty for all the difficulties you are dealing with. Why not come to Scotland and complete the work there. You can see the spectacular scenery for yourself and possibly get a better sense of Helen Dunlop from her house. What do you say?”
“I don’t know what to say. It is a very generous offer, of course, but I couldn’t afford the plane fare, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, no! You would come as my guest. I insist! It’s the least I can do to make up for the difficulties I have saddled you with. Please say you will come.”
Anna heard an intake of breath on the other end of the phone. She automatically crossed her fingers as she waited for his answer. Seconds ticked by until she heard his solemn voice.
“If you are really sure about this, I would be grateful to accept your amazing offer, Anna, but I want you to think it over tonight. I’ll talk to you about this tomorrow. Don’t hesitate to change your mind if you wish to. I think this is the most surprising and generous thing that has ever happened to me and I thank you sincerely.”
Anna could detect a catch in his voice on the last words. She said goodbye and put down the phone before he could say more.
Impulsive conduct was all very well, but now she would have to explain it to Alina.