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‘I like to do a number of drafts and a colour palette for reference. I usually add the finishing touches later. I didn’t want to rush. I couldn’t exactly come up at weekends – too far – so I did three castles at Easter.’ He smiled, mischievously. ‘If I’d know how great the weather was going to be, I needn’t have worried. I touched them up with warm summer colours. A little bit of fakery gets past the untrained eye.’
‘Like a filter on a camera.’
‘Yeah. But May was a wash out. I can’t paint in the rain.’ The grin evaporated.
‘What?’
‘Camilla wasn’t happy with my early delivery. She was annoyed actually. She insisted I had to do them in situ and not rework them later, but that’s not what I wanted to do. She backed off a bit after I told her the issues. Things got a bit awkward between us. I don’t think she’s done a project like this before. Me neither. Anyway, I picked up when term broke up.’
‘At Warkworth?’
He lowered his beer glass. ‘Yes. Where I saw you in the car park. Who are you working for again?’
‘I don’t know. He’s not telling me his name. He’s like,’ I cringed, ‘my patron.’
‘Ah, patronage. Handy to have, even these days. Although sponsorship is a better tool. More money.’
‘Yes, so I’m told. But we’re way past the Renaissance.’
He leaned on his elbows. For second, his eyes sparkled. ‘You know why they became patrons? They made their money through trade, not titles or land, so they had to show off their status by getting the best to work for them, the renowned painters, sculptors, musicians.’
I shrugged. ‘Except I’m not an artist.’
He admonished me with quite a stare that belonged to a stern teacher. It sent a wave of unfathomable tingles down my spine.
‘Don’t cheapen photography. It’s modern media. Creating pictures with a camera is art. It might not be like Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel, but it’s still great having somebody supporting you. Michelangelo’s patron wasn’t royalty. It was the Medici family… What?’
My blush had caught his eye. ‘My friend Yvette told me all about patronage. When he emails me, which isn’t very often, he uses the name Medici. It’s a bit of a joke thing,’ I added lamely. It could also be covertness, malicious, or simply about anonymity.
Joseph laughed. ‘How appropriate. It might turn out to be very advantageous for you. Doors open, fame beckons.’
‘I’m not interested in being famous. I could enter more competitions, but I don’t want to.’
‘I guess it will become easier to spot artistic talent now that we have the internet and can do things virtually.’
Yvette had said something similar. ‘My friend reckons such things will soon be all the rage and flash-in-the-pan celebrities will become cheap commodities promoted by high profile people. She’s brilliant at predicting trends, like fashion. She’s an art historian. It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? History always repeats itself at some point.’
Any evidence of amusement was replaced by that serious look again, but this one was less critical and more appreciative. ‘I’d like to meet your friend. And this Medici.’ He paused, then spoke with no hint of humour. ‘He’s got a list, an agenda, like Camilla.’
I rummaged through the contents of my handbag and pulled out a printout. ‘He’s very specific with details of what I photograph.’
He leaned over the table to look and squinted at the small lettering. ‘Well, mine isn’t.’
I pointed at the first item. ‘You painted the windmill.’
He drew back, his eyes narrowing into pinpoints. ‘How do you know?’
‘Somebody saw you, a member of staff, and he told me. I was standing by the windmill photographing the sea, for my personal collection. Medici requests peculiar architectural features.’
‘Like latrine chutes? I just thought they were fun to paint. Whoever gets these paintings can work it out for themselves.’ He grinned a cheeky smile that broke the stubble into waves of light and umber.
I smiled, partly because it was contagious, but I remained slightly perturbed by the mystery painter. The same fifteen castles were too significant to dismiss. ‘So you have a list, but nothing specific to paint.’
‘I only need to stick to the same canvas size, and watercolours.’ He drank a good measure of beer.
‘Which, I have to say, are really suitable for castles. Is that your speciality? Have you exhibited your artwork?’ I rattled through questions, thinking about David’s approach to finding me.
‘I’m diverse. But watercolour landscapes are okay with me. I’m not a portrait artist. I have exhibited, but not in a long time. A few works go out to galleries. Most of my income is teaching. This is quite an undertaking for me. I enjoy travelling and needed the break. What about you? Are you new to it?’
