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‘How did I ever let you talk me into this?’ Hazel was sitting in a church hall with her good friend Lucy, pencils poised, but she was having trouble attempting to sketch the naked man seated before them. ‘It’s all right for you, you’re arty. I’m hopeless.’
Lucy didn’t laugh, but the corners of her mouth twitched. ‘You need to get out more and this is a start. I’m being a good friend. And besides, I knew it would be better than coming on my own. I needed to fill my creative well and I appreciate the support.’
‘You didn’t tell me it involved nudity,’ Hazel whispered. ‘You had me thinking we’d be drawing a basket of fruit or an old-fashioned teddy bear.’
Lucy’s pencil stopped its action on her paper and she turned to face Hazel, keeping her voice low so they weren’t disturbing anyone else. ‘To be fair, thatiswhat we did three weeks ago. And according to one of the other ladies, last week they drew a crumpled-up paper bag. What would you rather?’ She glanced briefly in the model’s direction, eyebrows raised, before turning her attention back to her sketch.
Hazel couldn’t help but smile. ‘I suppose itisbetter than drawing a pile of rubbish.’ Although she wouldn’t feel self-conscious gawping at a paper bag.
She supposed she’d better make a start. The tutor was doling out general advice and making her way around the group and Hazel would look pretty silly if she didn’t at least attempt to do this. And, she supposed, it was fun. It wasn’t often – or ever – that she got to sit and stare, without judgement, at a naked man. Perhaps this was the biggest treat she’d get all summer.
‘Your first life model?’ the tutor, behind her, asked her in a voice Hazel wished didn’t carry quite so well. She also wished her easel was a little higher so she could properly hide behind her paper in case the model looked her way.
‘Yes,’ she muttered, as quiet as she could. ‘I’m here with Lucy, really, I’m not much of an artist at all.’ She knew the tutor had already complimented Lucy on the start she’d made with her picture.
‘There aren’t any wrongs with art, it’s your interpretation,’ she said, as though Hazel’s claim not to be an artist was neither here nor there. ‘Try to relax your shoulders a bit…’ she lowered her voice, ‘…and you’ll need to spend a lot of time actually looking at the model, otherwise how can you hope to draw him?’ Not much difference in age to Hazel’s thirty-seven years, she didn’t seem uncomfortable at all with the nakedness in such close proximity, not even when she spoke to the model as though he was a man in the street, fully clothed, nothing to see here.
The tutor moved on to someone else and Hazel got back to her drawing, although every time she stared at the model, she only did it for a few seconds before she had to look away. The rest of the group didn’t seem to have her issues, although perhaps they, as artists, thought of him differently – more of an exhibit than a good-looking man without any clothes. All Hazel seemed capable of fixating on was that the only thing separating the group of six wannabe artists and his very fine naked form was a mere couple of metres and a semi-circle of easels, pieces of paper, and fancy pencils.
‘Remember, no straight lines, we need curves,’ the teacher vocalised at volume as she continued her rounds, observing, advising.
As she attempted more of her sketch, Hazel wondered whether it wouldn’t be so bad if the life model didn’t have such a good body, or if he was a few decades older, or perhaps if he was a she.
Lucy leaned over to whisper to her, ‘Is this the first man you’ve seen naked since James?’
Hazel appreciated the interruption. Her sketch was going nowhere fast. ‘For your information, yes, it is.’
‘He seems to think you’ll be naked friends again someday.’
Hazel shrugged. ‘The jury’s out.’
She and James had been serious, they’d been engaged, but a year ago, Hazel had felt almost as though she was suffocating and she had a hard time separating whether that was because of James and their relationship, or whether it was because she hadn’t dealt properly with what had happened three years ago. All she knew was that, twelve months ago, she’d had to tell James that she needed time, she needed space. He was still around, on and off, still in her life as a friend, but she didn’t know whether she wanted to go back to what they once were.
Lucy leaned closer to Hazel’s drawing and nodded what Hazel thought might be approval. ‘It’s not bad, considering you said you were terrible.’
‘You’re being far too kind. Don’t think I’ll be contacting a gallery to put this on display anytime soon.’ All she had was the start, the curve of his shoulder and his torso and around at the bottom, which was where she’d stopped. Thinking about his bum was a step too far, even though she could only really see the rather strong thigh propped up to conceal certain other bits she was pretty sure the artists around the other side had a great view of.
‘Every now and then, I like to do something out of my comfort zone,’ Lucy explained when she saw Hazel’s hesitation to draw any more, the pencil hovering in her hand.
‘Well, this is definitely out ofmycomfort zone,’ said Hazel, her pencil scraping the beginnings of the man’s thigh finally and moving down after she glanced at the muscle and tried to replicate it on the paper. ‘You owe me a drink. Or two.’
Lucy, an artisan blacksmith in Heritage Cove, where they both lived, usually made things from iron, copper, or other materials in her workshop, using an old-fashioned forge for some of the beautiful items. But there was no forge inside this church hall situated a forty-minute drive from the Cove. The only thing heating up around here were Hazel’s cheeks when she caught the model’s eye. For the most part, he made sure he didn’t make eye contact with anyone, but he’d adjusted position as he got comfortable again.
‘Do you think the others sat around that side on purpose?’ Hazel wondered, although when one of the artists on the other side looked her way, she hoped she hadn’t spoken too loudly.
‘You mean so they see… everything?’ Lucy grinned. ‘The model wasn’t sitting there when we set up, remember, so it was potluck as to the angle you got. Don’t mind this one too much. Go take a peek.’
‘Oh, my goodness, Lucy!’ But Hazel was laughing and this time more than one person in the group looked her way at the disruption, which made her want to laugh all the more. ‘I will do no such thing. And there’s no way I could drawthat.’
It was more than a relief when they reached the end of the class. Hazel couldn’t wait to get out of there. She joined in with clapping their appreciation for the model along with everyone else and busied herself packing up the pencils she’d used, collecting her bag, rolling her drawing so nobody else could see it, and by the time she looked up, the model had gone, presumably to find his clothes.
‘Ready.’ She stood beside Lucy, who was still using the side of her pencil to shade an area on her picture.
‘I wanted to ask the tutor a couple of questions.’ Lucy pulled a face, sensing Hazel’s desire to leave. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Not at all, but we’re in a one-hour spot outside.’ She shook off Lucy’s rush to pack up. ‘It’s not a problem, give me your keys and I’ll move the car if anyone comes while I’m waiting.’
