‘An hour? It didn’t feel anything like that long. Time flies, I suppose.’
‘Isn’t that meant to be when you’re having fun? Can’t imagine standing there in your Mary robe while I chip away is much fun, butchacun à son goût.’
I could feel my cheeks flush. Was he making fun of me? Maybe he saw my discomfort, maybe he was oblivious, but he carried on, ‘Mind you, I suppose an hour’s peace when you spend most of your time looking after small children probablyisfun – so would you mind posing again? I’m nearly there, I think, and ithasmade a difference having a live model.’
I shifted from foot to foot. ‘No, of course not, as long as it’s all right with Bunny. I think I’ll take this off now and put my jeans back on, if that’s okay?’
‘Oh, yes, of course. I’ll unpin you.’
My decision to enjoy Lando’s gorgeousness didn’t really help with his closeness for a second time as he unfastened the fabric. I could feel my stomach leaping with desire and nothing would have felt more natural than to shrug the robe from my shoulder and let his warm hand replace it. But of course, Sensible Penny triumphed, and I stood stiffly, terrified of an accidental meeting of skin that might render me a hot mess of lust while Lando looked on, slightly embarrassed. His delicate movements intimated that he, too, was trying to avoid touching anything other than the pins, but I supposed that was more to do with avoiding hurting me than unleashing his own uncontrollable passion.
‘All right, there you go. I’ll go over there while you put your jeans back on.’
I managed this swiftly and pulled my shoes on over the shameful socks.
‘Can I see Mary, or won’t you let me until she’s finished?’
‘No, you can see her, come over.’
He handed me the sculpture, and I held it up to the light. Even to my eye, more used to finger painting than fine art, it was a thing of beauty. Her robe draped softly around her head and fluidly to the floor, her hands were slim and sensitive and her face radiant with peace and love. I didn’t know what to say, without either gushing or being flippant, so I simply turned her over in my hands, running my fingers over the features.
‘Do you like it?’
I looked up into Lando’s face and saw that he really cared what I thought. I barely felt qualified to reply, but managed to stutter, ‘Lando, it’s…exquisite. I can’t believe you’ve created this from a piece of wood. There’s so much movement and emotion…I love it. The church is incredibly lucky.’
Gushing, then. Oh well.
‘I’m so glad. Relieved. You’re the first person who’s seen any of it. I’ve been worried…’
I gazed into his eyes and smiled.
‘You don’t need to be. It’s a work of art.’
He took it back and stared at it before hurriedly returning it to his workbench.
‘Thank you. Obviously, it’s not quite finished. But you’ve helped, Penny, you brought a kind of calm with you this evening, a reassurance.’
Having said this, he turned his back to me and started sorting through offcuts of wood, muttering something about their grain. I supposed that the calm he spoke of was more to do with my being so dull, and there was nothing much left to say. I felt I had been dismissed. Well, I was happy to go.
‘I’ll be off then. Are you coming up to the house for a drink with your father’s friend?’
‘No, I’ve got too much to do here. Night, Penny.’
‘Night then.’
I opened the door to leave.
‘Oh, and Penny?’
‘Yes?’
‘Nice socks.’
As I trudged back to the house, my mind was full and confused. On the one hand, there was the boiling attraction I was beginning to feel for Lando, and the exciting thought that I could throw sense to the wind and indulge that, in my mind if no other way. On the other was the stone-heavy lump of knowledge sitting in my stomach that I was, truly, rather a sensible person who brought calm and wore cheerful socks. Maybe I should accept that, I mused, and the consequences. Pixie might be propositioned by moonlight by dashing strangers with roses between their teeth, but Penny was hot chocolate and a sofa. Maybe I should return to my neat little house and my safe job, forget India, forget passion, forget adventure but without replacing those things with pointless yearning for family life. I should accept my lot and be some sort of community good egg: a nun without the trappings. These depressing thoughts took me inside the house, where I was instantly distracted. In the hallway were Bunny and Xander, helpless with giggles.
‘Oh Pixie, there you are, darling. You’ve come back in the nick of time.’
‘Why, what’s going on?’
