Page 109 of Be More Octopus

'Yes. You sound like you might be from my neck of the woods too?'

They carried on chatting about Birmingham and art and music and books, all much to the disapproval of several of the other artists.

'I thought this was a social group?' Em whispered to Matt after they'd been glared at for the umpteenth time by a spiky-haired woman who was working on a dog portrait.

'Not everyone read that part of the description. There are Trappist monks who talk more than some of this lot.' He whispered back.

'Why do you keep coming back?'

'It makes me paint, and I haven't got anything else to do on Thursday evenings. Well, most evenings, actually. I was teaching at a school in Bristol before, and loads was going on there, but around here, it's a bit sleepy in the evenings.'

'Right, everyone. Tea's ready.' Carol pointed to the hatch into the kitchen.

'You think for £5, they could manage a better selection of biscuits,' Matt whispered to Em as they looked at the bourbons and custard creams arranged on a plain green plate that looked like it had been around since the 1940s.

'At least they aren't rich teas.'

'We had garibaldis last week.'

'I love those.'

'Ugh! Squashed flies. You have no taste.' He screwed his face up in mock disgust.

'When we've all finished analysing the biscuits,' Carol looked pointedly at Matt and Em, 'instead of a talk today, Jerry is going to be giving free critiques of your work.'

'I didn't realise Jerry was a qualified judge?' said Em.

Matt appeared to be having a coughing fit.

'I'm not, Emily, was it?' From the way he looked her up and down, it looked as if Jerry was judging her already. 'But as the most experienced artist in the group, I like to share my expertise to help the rest of you.'

'How kind,' said Em. This should be good.

He started with spiky-haired woman's dog. 'It's very precise, Esme, but I think the eyes look slightly dead. Do you mind? ' he said, taking a paintbrush from her table and adding some horribly bad highlights before she could object.

Em's eyes widened in horror.

But Esme didn't seem to be bothered. On the contrary, she appeared to be thrilled by Jerry's adjustment. 'Oh, that's much better, Jerry. Thank you so much.'

Em and Matt exchanged a glance. Matt looked unimpressed too. 'He's not getting anywhere near my picture,' whispered Em.

Jerry continued his tour of the room with the other artists trailing after him as he dispensed his somewhat suspect pearls of wisdom and occasionally amended their work.

As he neared her easel, Em positioned herself strategically between the canvas and her equipment. There was no way she was going to let him put any paint on her landscape.

'Ah. The new girl's work. It's a good start, Emily. You could do with more control over your paintbrush, though.' He stopped a few feet from her easel, picking up the vibes she wouldn't be receptive to a bit of artistic collaboration. 'I offer one-to-one lessons if you want to progress your art further.'

Old Em would have smiled and not said anything. But, new Em decided not to let him get away with his patronising attitude.

'That's very kind, Jerry, but I have a first-class honours degree in Fine Art from the Slade, so the variation in my marks is a deliberate choice. I feel your own work could do with more variation and contrast to make it more exciting. I'd be happy to give you some lessons.'

Jerry drew himself up to his full height, puffing out his chest like a male bird trying to ward off a rival on a David Attenborough documentary. Matt's coughing fit had returned with a vengeance.

'I'll have you know that my work has been exhibited in the North Devon show every year for the past two decades, young lady. You may not approve of it, but many people in the art world do.'

Young lady? He'd got her back up now. She could hear Lucy's voice whispering, 'Octopus time!' in her head. But she was meant to be making friends, not enemies. A more subtle approach was called for, but she was stumped as to what that was.

'I'm afraid it's time to pack up already, everyone.' Carol seemed anxious to wrap the meeting up before things turned any nastier. 'If Jerry hasn't had time to critique your work, I'm sure he'll do so next time.'