Page 35 of Be More Octopus

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

'We need to decide what you're going to wear.' Em was standing in Jack's living room, clutching her sketchbook and pencil case to her chest in readiness for the first sitting for his portrait. She was ever so slightly on edge at the prospect of drawing him, knowing it would feel more intimate than casually spending time together.

'I thought what I’ve got on now.’ Jack stood opposite her in the chinos he'd worn when they first met. But today, he'd teamed them with a dark blue cotton shirt. 'It's what I usually wear. Is it smart enough?'

Em hesitated.

'Or do you think I should put a suit on?'

'I've never seen you in a suit.' Em wasn't sure she'd like to draw him in formal wear. He wouldn't look like her Jack. Your Jack! For god's sake, he isn't anywhere near being your Jack.

'I only wear suits to weddings or funerals or the occasional work event. Or there's my academic gown? Impractical thing. I'd need to wear a suit with that. I'll have to pick them up from home when we're in London.'

'Stick with what you're wearing. Except I prefer your light blue shirt. It brings out the colour of your eyes better.'

'Does it make that much difference?'

'Yes, it does. The colours you wear reflect off your skin. They can make a massive difference to how you look, particularly what you wear close to your face.'

He seems reluctant to get changed. 'I think that shirt needs ironing.'

'It doesn't matter. I'm just going to do some rough sketches. I won't draw the creases.'

'I bow to your greater knowledge,' he said, bounding upstairs.

Em looked around the living room working out where she was going to ask him to sit. There were a few personal touches that he'd added, presumably to make the cottage feel more like home. A model of the Countess Genevieve sat on the windowsill above his desk. And there were several piles of books: one by the side of his desk and a couple more next to the coffee table. They were all leather-bound hardbacks, several of them with gilt edges. They looked Victorian or older. Post-it notes stuck out from the edges of most of them. He must be referring to them for his writing.

Jack reappeared in Em's favourite shirt. 'Better?'

'Much.' Em felt mesmerised by his bright blue eyes. Say something, or he's going to think you're weird again.

'Are you ok with sitting on that dining chair if we put it by the window?'

'Yes. I'll move it.' He picked up the heavy wooden chair and carried it easily across the room. 'Here?'

'Perfect.'

'I suppose I'll need to keep still?' he said as he sat down.

'Not this time. I'm just doing some exploratory sketches today.' Em picked up her drawing pad and made herself comfortable on the sofa. 'I'll ask you to keep changing your position every few minutes so that I can work out the best pose.'

'This is my best side,' Jack moved slightly on the chair.

She looked up to see if he was joking or not. Most people did have a best side, but they had no idea what it was. Had Jack been studying himself in the mirror? He hadn't struck her as vain.

He must've sensed she thought it was an unusual thing to say. 'So I've been told,' he said.

'Who told you?' Em was curious now.

'One of the crew when we were filming the great ships documentary. I've no idea whether that's true or not. I hate watching myself on screen.'

Not vain, then, thank God. 'Let's see, shall we.' Em started to draw.

After a minute or two, Jack started tapping his knee with his fingers. He seemed nervous. Perhaps he'd picked up on her feelings. Though now she had her pencil in her hand, she'd started to relax. Maybe he was just bored.

'Are you alright, Jack?'

'Yes. I guess I feel on edge with you studying me in detail.'