I did so, taking my cue to shut up on the subject of his personal life. I don’t know why I was having to push away disappointment. After all, here was a kindred spirit in the ‘moving away and eschewing the thought of a family’ camp. I should be celebrating. I tried to smile.
‘Are you all right, Penny? You don’t look well.’
‘Er, yes, fine, I’m fine. Let’s get draped, shall we?’
I stood up.
‘Can you drop your shoulders? They’re up by your ears. And stand naturally – I won’t stick pins in you, you don’t need to worry.’
How could I tell him that it wasn’t the pins making me tense but his sudden proximity? The brush of his hand against my cheek as he tucked the cloth around my shoulders, the warm scent of coffee and wood shavings that drifted from him, the curl of dark hair I had a sudden longing to tuck behind his ear.
‘I think you’ll need to take your jeans off.’
‘Huh?’
‘Your jeans. Sorry, but they’re bulking out your silhouette too much under the fabric. Would you mind taking them off?’
He turned towards his workbench, and I started fumbling around for the fly button, trying not to dislodge the pins he had already arranged; partly not to spoil his work and annoy him, but mainly because I didn’t want the whole lot to fall off and display my pale, dimply thighs and substantial, yet comfortable, black cotton pants. I managed to wriggle free and was draping the jeans over a chair when I realised that, as the cloth only fell to just above my ankles, my feet clad only in socks – comedy Christmas socks, of course, with cheery little elves eating candy canes – were on full display.
‘Are you ready?’
‘Um…’
He turned around and didn’t even glance at the offending socks.
‘Good. Much better without the jeans. Okay, come and stand over here, please.’
I shuffled over to the place he indicated and stood stiffly while he looked me up and down.
‘I’ve got most of the body, it’s the head and face I’m really interested in.’
That figured. Who would be interested in my neglected, biscuit-fed body?
‘So, hold your arms however you’re comfortable. Turn your head to the left a bit…and tip your chin up…look into the distance. That’s it. I need you to hold that gaze.’
As I awkwardly tried to follow his instructions, I didn’t think I could feel any more uncomfortable, but then he came close and started making tiny adjustments: a tendril of hair tucked in here, a microscopic lift of the chin there. I could feel his breath warm on my face and smell soap on his hands. I risked breaking my ‘into the distance’ gaze to look at his face as closely as he was looking at mine, noticing a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose and a small half-moon scar by his right temple.
‘Can you look over there again, please?’
I jumped guiltily and resumed my gaze, hoping he couldn’t hear my stupid heart, pounding away frantically, letting me down when I was so determined to believe that he was having Absolutely No Effect. I tried to conjure up another helpful and chaste vision of India and its primary schools, but now all I was getting was some sort ofPassage to Indiafantasy: me on a large double bed, its muslin curtains drifting in the breeze, as Lando walked in through the door and closed the carved wooden shutters against the heat of the afternoon…
‘Penny?’
‘Yes, sorry, what?’
‘You were miles away. I’m ready to start now, if you could hold it just like that.’
I had warmed up considerably and wanted to shrug off the heavy fabric but smiled weakly and tried to feel a bit more virginal as Lando started scraping away at a half-finished figure. It was about a foot tall, made of a glowing wood which rippled with different shades of brown, from lightest beige to a deep chocolatey hue. I kept letting my eyes dart over, fascinated by his concentration and delicacy as he worked. The peace soothed me, and I began to feel more comfortable.
‘That’s it, hold that.’
‘Hold what?’
‘You just smiled, just a little bit. It was perfect, beautiful. That’s what I need, that’s what I’m missing. Whatever you were thinking about, keep thinking. Please.’
Being described as both perfect and beautiful was enough for me, and I let the smile touch my lips again as I floated back to that Indian boudoir and let the story progress. Then another thought entered my mind. Seeing as Lando was patently unsuitable and very complicated, and had been upfront about not wanting a relationship, surely a small dalliance with him would not be remotely sensible – and therefore not breaking my own rules. Clever! Couldn’t I maybe…enjoy him for a couple of weeks, as I got my ducks into a row regarding my adventure? Reality knocked gently at my brain, reminding me that he, too, would have to want this, but I brushed it away. At least I couldthinkabout him, under these new rules, and enjoy that. It was genius.
Sadly, I didn’t have time to capitalise on this as Lando put down his tools and said, ‘Okay, that’s enough for one evening. You’ve been standing there for nearly an hour, you’ve been great, thank you.’
