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“Don’t worry, we’re all artists here. That’s what we do to help get inspiration,” said Ruby. “Bottoms up.” She raised her spiked cup of tea and took a very big mouthful.
Vickie followed suit. The warmth of the alcohol felt pleasant. Still, it wasn’t the done thing. Fortunately, no one had noticed, or if they had, they weren’t saying anything. She took another sip.
“Much better.”
Vickie nodded. It was.
“See, I know what’s good,” said Ruby.
Vickie smiled. Ruby seemed to be slowly returning to her usual self. “I doubt very much, though, that this would inspire me with my painting today. I’m positively beyond help.”
“It’s the subject. A bowl of fruit. Really. Give me a naked man any day.”
Vickie hid a giggle by holding up her cup of tea in front of her mouth. “Now, I know that to be very true for you.”
Ruby smiled and held up her cup. “Cheers.”
They clinked china cups and sipped the warm tea. Vickie could feel the alcohol blurring the edges of her frustration from a lack of artistic ability she’d displayed this morning.
Ms. Silver clapped her hands. “Back to it.”
“She’s a taskmaster,” admitted Vickie, draining the last of her tea and taking the pink and green macaroons from her plate and stuffing them in her mouth. “Hmm… yum.”
“Indeed, and when we have our own art exhibitions, we can thank her.” Ruby stood, brushing the front of her skirt down, ensuring it was sitting just right.
“You mean when you haveyourart exhibition. My painting is barely fit for the bin.”
“Now, Vickie, I’ll have none of that negative talk here in my class,” said Ms. Silver sternly.
“Yes, Ms. Silver,” she said softly and hurried back to her easel.
“That’s more like it, Vickie. I’ll come and check on your progress in a minute.”
Vickie wasn’t looking forward to that. Painting wasn’t her thing. She wasn’t sure how much progress she could manage in a few minutes. Nevertheless, she was here to support Ruby, and she would try her best. She went to pick up her paintbrush, but instead, she froze.
There was a folded black paper heart on her small worktable.
This can’t be right.
Vickie stood there looking at the black heart. Another invitation? Already? This wasn’t making a whole lot of sense, especially after what happened last night.
Perhaps it is a mistake. The invitation isn’t mine.
With a shaking hand, she picked up the heart and opened it.
Her mind whirled.
There, clearly, were the words:
George and Vickie Wenderlen
Clearly, the invitation was intended for her. How did they know that she was going to be here at the art class this morning? She had only decided that she was going to attend last night after seeing Ruby so distressed. A shiver eased down her back. Were they following her? And who werethey? What was this Black Hearts Club really about? She was sure it was nothing to do with speaking to dead loved ones or contacting the dead. Was this a chance to find out? Could she risk it?
“Hey, Vickie, are you all right?” Ruby rushed to her side and put her hand around her. “Oh.”
Vickie read the invitation, the words burning into her mind uncomfortably.
George and Vickie Wenderlen,
