Lawren Drake received the phone call from Anna Mason and made an appointment to see her at his studio on the same day. He had nothing pressing on his agenda with a small commission almost finished and a couple of commercial projects to start as soon as he worked out the ideas. These were merely bread-and butter assignments that paid the rent on his studio and living quarters in the attic apartment. His true art was in portraits but who wanted a formal portrait these days?
His father’s words returned unbidden. “You will never make any money with portraits, Lawren. You were meant to follow in the footsteps of your namesake and capture the grandeur of the Canadian wilderness.”
Lawren smiled ruefully whenever he thought of these words. Unfortunately for his father’s ambitions, Lawren hated camping, hiking and all forms of outdoor wandering in places inaccessible by bicycle.
His father had once admitted, in a moment of weakness, that there was a genetic link to a family ancestor in England who had been a famous painter of his wealthy patrons generations ago.
Lawren felt this information justified his own choices and he had refused to listen to his father’s complaints thereafter.
Looking around the studio, he realized it might not be the most impressive place in which to receive possible clients. There were canvasses against the walls and tubes of paint on every surface competing for space with jars of water sprouting brushes in a variety of sizes.
Not much I can do about this, he summarized. My tiny, private quarters are in a worse state; unlikely to provide a good first impression on a lady like Anna Mason.
At the thought of his visitor, he scratched his head with the end of a brush and wondered again what it was about her that had made him unable to concentrate on the tasks he had already committed to.
She was pleasant enough and attractive in her own way, he supposed. Older, of course, but interesting in that serious manner, and certainly issuing a challenge to his abilities with the unheard-of-idea to paint a portrait of someone she had never even met.
It was the challenge that excited him. He really needed the stimulus of attempting the impossible once in a while and if this lady could pay the costs, which seemed likely from his visit to her home in the Rosecliffe Estate, it would be a worthwhile exercise to stretch his imagination.
He selected one of his own canvases to place on the easel. The florid scene of a city in the tropics was not for sale. He dabbled in extemporaneous flamboyance in the middle of the night when sleep eluded him and this was one of the results. Might as well show the lady he was not all about careful reproduction of that which the camera could capture.
He was just wiping paint off his hands when the buzzer sounded to signal the arrival of someone at the front entrance to the house.
He ran down the two flights of stairs at top speed, fearing Anna Mason would take fright and leave before he had a chance to talk to her. Through the stained glass window in the door he saw a rainbow figure nervously smoothing her auburn hair and shuffling her feet. She was, in fact, turning around as if to leave when he opened the door.
“Oh, I wasn’t sure which bell to ring. It seems there are several businesses in this lovely old house.”
Lawren had caught his breath and managed to say, “Please come in. I have a studio apartment on the top floor. It’s a bit of a climb but the light from the skylight windows makes it worthwhile for me.
Nothing else was said between them as he led the way, pointing out the lawyers’ and insurance offices on the other floors as they ascended.
Finally they reached the attic level and the open door led right into the messy studio. Lawren suspected his visitor had never actually seen a working artist’s studio before, so he stayed back and let her absorb the scene. This was the first test of her intention. If she fled now, it was not a project for him.
He watched as she was drawn to his colourful canvas on the easel.
Test number two. She looked surprised, but not shocked by the purple shadows and the trailing blossoms against stark buildings and enormous overhanging trees. He waited for her comments but she merely turned to him and began her rehearsed statement.
Test number two passed: she had refrained from facile observations about the painting that would demonstrate her ignorance of art.
“I don’t want to waste your time, Mr. Drake. The portrait I had in mind would require some weeks for you to complete, if, indeed, you chose to take the commission. The problem is that I am leaving for Scotland in a few weeks and I wanted to take the portrait with me. That now seems impossible given the time frame. I came today to explain this to you and to apologize for misleading you. The project is probably not viable. I have had a chance to consider the difficulties it presents and I am on the verge of discarding the entire idea.”
Anna Mason had left no space in her declaration for Lawren to speak and she had not intended for him to comment. She moved to exit and was surprised to hear a low chuckle emerge from the man in front of her.
“Hold on a minute! Don’t I get any say in this decision?”
“Oh, of course you do! I just didn’t want to ………”
“I know, ‘waste my time’ is what you said before. Well, it’s my time and you are here now, so please can we sit down and discuss it for a minute?”
She seemed flustered by this unexpected turn of events but sat down on a stool which he had previously covered with a clean towel. He propped himself on a trestle with a good view of his client’s face.
“What do you want to discuss?” she said tentatively.
“Tell me about the person. What was her name?”
“Helen!” they said in unison and the vocal duet broke the tension. She visibly relaxed and began to talk with an enthusiasm that transformed her face, bringing a blush to her cheeks and a liveliness to her blue eyes that made her seem like a young girl.
“This is a long story but the essence of it is that I inherited a house in Scotland from a relative who was unknown to me. Helen Dunlop gave me the gift of property but also the gift of independence, and she was the catalyst that changed my life. As far as I can gather, Helen was a shy person who kept herself to herself, as they say in Scotland. She had a tragic childhood and an unhappy marriage and when she found the estate house outside Oban she knew peace in her life for the first time. I owe her a great deal and from what I know of her, she deserved better.”
“But if you never met, how do you know about her life?”
“I had some background research done, and I talked to the few people she trusted. I also found some photographs of her, but more recently I discovered a diary of sorts that revealed her innermost thoughts.”
“Where is that diary now?”
“Ah! That’s another long tale! It’s gone, but I know it by heart.”
Lawren was intrigued, despite his inner reservations. “Tell me about the house,” he asked quietly.
“It’s in the most beautiful glen. The wind blows from the sea in the west, but the house is of weathered stone with a slate roof and it has withstood storms and assaults for a century or more. Behind the house is a high hill with a tarn at its summit that reflects the passing clouds like a mirror. From up there you can see for miles and the air is like wine yet it is so peaceful that birds fly silently beneath the hill and sheep are like tiny white dots far below. I love it there and I can’t wait to return.”
Anna Mason had spoken with such feeling that Lawren felt a catch in his throat. His artist’s imagination began to conjure up the scene his visitor was describing.
“Go on,” he said softly. “I’ll just make some notes.” He picked up a nearby sketch pad and began to draw a quick outline of Anna’s face, holding the paper in such a way that she would not be able to tell he was not, in fact, writing anything.
“Well, I had a few alterations done to bring the house into the present century but I think it retains that old-world feel. The rooms are generous in size and the furnishings are updated versions of the style Helen preferred. I now let the property to guests but it’s mostly family and friends who use it when Alina and I are not there. I have good friends in the Oban area who keep an eye on the house and make sure it is in peak condition. I have some plans for the garden one of these days.”
She broke off with an embarrassed frown between her eyebrows. “Look! I didn’t mean to ramble on like this. As I said, there’s no time to do justice to the picture I had in mind. Perhaps we might try at another more suitable time in the future?”
She stood up and smoothed down the coat she had unbuttoned when she began to speak.
“Wait a minute, Anna! May I call you Anna?”
“Oh, of course!”
“I had an idea for this portrait but it requires further input from you. I need to know how you are related to Helen and I will need to see any family photographs in addition to the ones of Helen you mentioned.”
“I can give you that information, Lawren, but is it worthwhile right now? I understand your reluctance to work without a live subject.”
Lawren put the sketch pad down so that the drawing of Anna’s head was concealed. The action gave him a moment to compose a reply.
“I don’t want to give you a false impression of my work. I have done very formal portraits in the past but there is little demand for that kind of thing these days. If I show you something I have done more recently, it might help you to see what could be achieved with your project.”
Anna looked confused at this turn of events. It was clear that she thought the discussion was over. Lawren walked quickly to the wall and selected a canvas from the stack there. He turned it around and substituted it for the vibrant scene he had placed on the easel.
“Take a look at this.”
He watched as Anna tried to come to grips with the modern take on portraiture that he was showing her. A minute went by. He could not tell from her stillness how she was reacting. Finally, she spoke.
“This is amazing, Lawren. Obviously, I don’t know the man in your painting but the way you have incorporated natural elements in the background and placed subtle hints around his figure, it is as if I can tell who he really is. This is so much more effective than the formal portraits you mentioned. Would it be possible to create something like this for my Scottish house?”
She turned to face him and he was conscious that she had passed the third test: she was able to recognize and appreciate creativity.
“Let me give it some thought. We should meet again soon to exchange information. What about Williams Coffee Pub next to Victoria Park?”
“Yes, fine! But before I go, there’s something you need to explain to me, Lawren Drake.
What did you mean when you said there were ‘weird vibes’ in my home?”
He laughed out loud. She had effectively turned the tables on him and now he needed to answer her questions.
“Oh, that! It’s true, I do sometimes get a sense of people from their surroundings but perhaps ‘weird’ was not the accurate word to use. I sent that email in the middle of the night and I may have exaggerated somewhat.”
“No, no, sir! You don’t escape that easily. I want to know what you sensed.”
Lawren accepted the inevitable and hoped his answer would not cause this lady to back down from the project. He was aware of a growing interest in the challenge of producing work from such difficult circumstances and also, surprisingly, a growing interest in this most unusual woman.
“I confess I felt a strong feminine factor in the décor and in the atmosphere of your home. There was a palpable air of energy and ambition. Yet, I felt a hint of something tragic in the background. I saw photographs indicating travel but everything was pristine so I guessed you had not lived there for long. That in itself was remarkable. I generally get vibes from buildings where people have resided for long periods of time.”
“I am astonished that you absorbed so much from a short visit, Lawren. You really are psychic!”
“Well, my skills depend on good observation. It’s my stock in trade, I suppose. So, we’ll meet again soon?”
“Definitely!”
General chit chat accompanied them down the stairs to the front door. Anna Mason got into her car and waved as she drove off. Lawren Drake went slowly back into the house and realized he had a great deal of thinking to do before their next meeting and not all of it was related to a work project.
Alina was waiting when Anna returned home.
“How did it go? Was he weird after all?”
Anna had been trying to identify how she felt about the unusual encounter with Lawren Drake all the way from the downtown to their west end estate, and she was no closer to a conclusion.
“I honestly, don’t know how to describe it, Alina. It was one of the most amazing hours I have ever spent. So much happened, it’s hard to know where to start.”
“Well, start with what you thought about him.”
“You were right! He’s not as young as I had first presumed. In his own place he looked more mature and even with paint smeared on one cheek he is a consummate professional who has worked for many years to get to his level of expertise.”
“So, you saw some of his work?”
“I have never seen anything like the paintings he showed me. Two entirely different types of work and the portrait of a man was outstanding in its composition and execution. I am no expert on art, as you know, Alina, but I was stunned by the work. If Lawren Drake could create something similar, and equally remarkable, for the Oban house, I would be utterly delighted.”
“Wait one minute! I thought you said the project was a no go. There wasn’t a hope, you said, of getting the work done before we have to be in Scotland at the beginning of June. How did all that change?”
“I can’t tell you! I must have been mesmerized the whole hour I was in his studio. I went in there with one mind set and came out in a completely different frame of mind. We will be meeting soon to discuss the portrait further and I think he believes it can be done.”
“Oh!” said Alina, and there was a wealth of meaning in the syllable.
Anna caught the emphasis and the raised eyebrows that went with it. “Don’t make something out of nothing. It’s a business arrangement, that’s all. He’s way too young for me.”
Alina decided there and then to find out the exact age, and any other relevant information, about Lawren Drake before Anna’s next meeting with him.
She was not worried that Anna would fall for the man. She was far too sensible for that kind of thing.
She was more concerned that this artist might take advantage of her friend’s generosity and leave her poorer and with no fine portrait to show for her trust in him. That she would not tolerate.