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‘Oh, she was, and it was her idea to add the clause in your lease, Katerina. Sadly, she passed away last year, and the gallery and the studio went to my uncle who lives in Sydney. He has no interest in the place but was happy to continue with his mother’s wishes to support local artisans in their quest to make a living from their work, which unbeknown to him, included his nephew.
‘I’m sorry you had to display my paintings in your gallery, Kat, but I’m truly grateful to you for doing so, especially as they’re the complete opposite to the aesthetic you are trying to create here. I want you to know that from now on you are no longer obliged to adhere to the clause in your lease, and you only have to display my artwork if you want to.’
Katerina selected one of Christos’ new canvasses and hooked it on the wall where one of the old paintings had been, before taking a step back and really scrutinising the painting’s composition. A few moments later she was joined by Leo, then Suzie, and finally Christos took his place in the line, and the four friends stood there in silence like a quartet of seasoned art critics.
‘You have talent, Christos. I’d be honoured to showcase your paintings in my gallery.’
Christos beamed. ‘Thank you, Kat, that means—’
‘Hello? Is anyone… Oh, hi, is this where the watercolour workshop is taking place?’
‘Yes, it is. Welcome toKaterina’s Art Gallery. I’m Katerina Loukas, and I’ll be your tutor for this morning’s session, and this is Suzie Sandringham, who will be running the jewellery-making classes in the afternoon. Come in, come in, make yourself comfortable at one of the easels.’
***
Ten minutes later, all eleven students had arrived, and Suzie had just finished handing round their coffees – a mixture ofsketos,metrios,glikos, andvariglikos, with one person asking for a cup of her peppermint tea – when she saw someone walk past the gallery’s window, stop, turn round, then walk past again, before doing the same thing two more times, clearly unsure whether to come in. There was something familiar about the dark-haired woman in white cotton dungarees and gold sandshoes, but that didn’t prevent Suzie from pulling open the door and greeting her with a smile.
‘Kalimera! Would you like to join us?’
‘Oh, no, I’m not…. Is this an art class?’
‘Yes, it is, and we have a spare easel, if you’re interested.’
The woman hesitated, then smiled. ‘You know, I think Iwillgive it a go.’
‘That’s great. I’m Suzie, by the way.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Suzie. I’m Collette.’
After settling their last-minute arrival in front of her easel, Suzie made her a coffee then went to stand at the back of the room to watch Katerina welcome everyone to the inauguralBrushstrokes & Beyondworkshop.
She was proud of herself; a month ago she wouldn’t have had the confidence to approach a complete stranger and invite them into the gallery, and when she glanced at Christos, she saw that he, too, understood the significance of what she had just done. He reached out and gave her hand a squeeze, before lowering his head so that his lips were level with her ear, his warm breath on her cheek sending delicious tingles through her body.
‘S’agapó,Suzie.’
‘I love you, too, Christos,’ she whispered.
They were building a new life together in Santorini; a place where she could be the real Suzie Sandringham, lover of sunshine, and sailing, and cute dachshunds, and murder mystery novels, and peppermint tea, and not the person who had been held back by a debilitating sense of misplaced guilt.
Often, the hardest person to forgive was yourself, and though it would take her some time to eradicate the memory of what happened that day in London – maybe she never would – with Christos’ support she had taken the first steps on that journey. There would be obstacles along the way, but she was determined to face them with courage and optimism, and to remember that every moment was precious and should be savoured, not spent lurking in the shadows.
Sunsets were fleeting; they were gone within minutes and left only darkness behind. But they also heralded a new dawn, an opportunity to press the reset button and write a new story, one filled with music and laughter, hope and joy, and, if you were brave enough to take a risk, with love.
The End
