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Picking up her spade, Holly led Jaz down the winding path towards her small art studio, sandwiched between the main nursery building and the cottage with its stone walls and red tiled roof where Holly had been brought up. Leaning her spade against the outside wall, she stamped the mud off her boots. The blue door creaked as she opened it, leaning into the darkness Holly fumbled for the light switch then jumped as the bulb blew.
‘Oh, not again. The electrics are on the blink. Hang on, I’ll open the blinds.’ Holly squinted as she walked towards the window. The sun streamed in as she lifted the blackouts which protected her work.
‘Wow, you’ve been busy.’ Jaz scanned the room crammed with colourful paintings.
‘I’ve been sorting through my art, taken photographs of all of the pieces and logged them.’ Walking to the sink in the far corner Holly ran the tap, moistening a few sheets of kitchen roll.
‘You’ve loads here, enough for an exhibition,’ Jaz said walking around the room. ‘You’re still planning to convert the old barn into a gallery, right?’
‘I’ve had a better idea.’ Holly handed the wet paper towel to Jaz. Walking to the far wall she grabbed a flip chart A-frame, which made a scraping noise as she dragged it across the paint-splattered stone floor. Turning over a few pages of sketches, Holly reached a map she had drawn of the nursery. ‘I thought we could extend the café here,’ she said pointing to the page, ‘and display paintings on the walls. And then the old building could become an art barn, rather than a gallery – with creative activities for visitors, like painting, mosaic, pottery.’
‘That’s amazing,’ Jaz said standing in stockinged feet wiping her shoes.
‘It’d be great for the coach parties that stop here and I could attract visits from local schools. Maybe link with other artists and make it into an arts hub.’
‘Yeah! Get back on track with your dreams, do what you want to do, rather than stick with plants.’
Holly shook her head. ‘The nursery’s in my blood, I’ll never give it up. All my family memories are here.’ Holly stared out of the window. ‘But yes, I can diversify and use my hard-earned art degree.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘I’ve realised, these last couple of weeks how much I miss painting. I’ve not done much since me and Tom …’
‘Well you must have painted something since you two got together.’ Jaz pointed to a portrait of a man with rusty, sun-kissed hair and vibrant green eyes.
Holly laughed and walked over to the painting of Tom. Picking it up with both hands she held it at arm’s length. ‘It was his birthday present.’ She looked into the laughing eyes she had captured, sad that they’d stopped smiling at her.Where’s he gone?she asked herself. ‘I should hang it in the house really. I was waiting for him to decorate the lounge.’
Jaz flicked her head in a silent tut.
Holly bent down propping the painting against the wall.
‘When’s this all happening?’ Jaz said, pointing to the flip chart.
‘As soon as Tom turns a profit. I had money set aside but leant it to him to buy stock.’ Holly heard Jaz’s sharp intake of breath and felt the need to elaborate. ‘He ordered a few tubs to show at the exhibitions.’ Returning to the flip chart, Holly pushed it back against the wall then turned to Jaz who was shaking her head.
‘I didn’t realise you’d funded the hot tub business, thought he’d actually done something for himself, for a change.’ Putting her shoes back on, Jaz placed the dirty paper towels in the bin.
‘The stock was expensive. Not forgetting the haulage costs. But he says he’s done brilliantly at the exhibitions.’ Holly removed her fleece from her waist and placed it over an easel. ‘And the country show season starts in a few weeks. It’ll only be a short wait until he returns the money to my project pot.’
Jaz took a deep breath. ‘You’re always waiting on Tom. Waiting for him to decorate the lounge, waiting for him to make his mind up about having kids, waiting for him to make a profit, Waiting for him to –’
Holly folded her arms. ‘Jaz.’
Jaz pulled a face, scrunching her petite nose. ‘Sorry.’
‘Anyway,’ Holly picked up her latest piece of work. ‘While you’re here, what do you think of this?’ Holly held the framed watercolour up to the sunlight. It was a view from her favourite bench, perched on the brow of the slope with views across Booth Farm. A patchwork of orange and yellow fields underneath a bright blue sky. With a line of trees and bushes in striking greens and a burnished sun shining through the gap in the hills. ‘It’s calledHarvest Sunset. It’s for the Wells Beauty of Somerset competition.’
‘O-M-G, it’s gorgeous. The colours jump out at you.’
‘They’re somewhat brighter than reality. I was a bit worried about that.’
‘Don’t be, that’s your style. You’ll smash it.’ Jaz pulled her mobile out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. ‘Sorry, gotta go.’ Holly felt Jaz touch her arm. ‘I don’t like leaving you, though, not when you’re down like this.’
‘I’m fine, really I am.’ Holly smiled as broadly as she could.
‘Hmm. Well, I’ll come by tomorrow morning and we’ll go shopping for our night out.’
‘But –’
Jaz kissed Holly on the cheek. ‘Take care, chick.’ She waved her mobile phone as she walked out of the door. ‘Just call, anytime.’
As the door closed, Holly shivered and she became aware once more of the lingering nausea. Turning, she saw the stark white walls of the studio as her mind flashed back two years. She had been working at a gallery in London when the call came in from Avon and Somerset police. They had asked her to get to Musgrove Hospital as soon as possible, because her parents had been in an accident on the M5. She had called the hospital on her way. The doctors were doing their best, they had said.Stop looking back,she told herself as she glanced at her watch. Holly realised the competition deadline was in forty minutes and that she had better get a move on.
