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This is a lot longer, and just until I can work Word again. Don't read it all at once.
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I was early for work, but the door was open. Normally I had to unlock it. I sighed; he’d done it again. I hurried inside.
The room before me was light, airy and vast, but I had grown so used to it that I no longer stopped to stare. It was his workroom, a gallery for his art and part of his home. He’d had the house built to his exact specifications, and yet, although I had only seen the rest of it a few times, it felt tacked on, unused. I remembered sitting uncomfortably on his sofa, surrounded by dust, waiting for him to find a pair of mugs and the kettle. I wondered where he was.
As I had expected, he had already let someone in, and then promptly forgotten they were there. He really was hopeless. He was sat, oblivious, in the middle of the room, working on his latest piece, while they wandered around amazed. I stormed over to him.
“Seth,” I shouted. “How many times have I told you NOT to let anyone in before I arrive?”
He looked up, startled by the noise, but a smile flared upon his face like a candle when he recognized me. “Susan, how are you? I want your opinion on this. Come and see.”
My curiosity dragged me over with minimum resistance. He’d tired of oils again and gone back to sculpting; he never could stick with one medium for long. His newest sculpture rested in the centre of his worktable, on something resembling a potter’s wheel.
The soft, grey stone gleamed in the spotlights, which he’d focused on the sculpture. It looked so smooth, but as I moved closer, I could see the thousands of tiny strokes, which represented its fur, and whose shadows turned the white stone grey. The gentle curves and fine lines of the mane and tail drew the eye along their flowing waves. It was beautiful, and yet, I couldn’t help but smile at the rounded tummy and stumpy legs.
“I was inspired by how you said that a galloping horse always make you think of freedom,” he said, beaming at me.
I laughed, “When was the last time you saw a horse?”
Seth looked at me, utterly bewildered. “What?”
“Well, it’s exact to the finest detail, and it’s definitely galloping, but it’s a pony not a horse.”
“How can you tell?” he asked, confused.
“The belly is too fat, and the legs are too short. Horse’s legs are long and slender.”
“I…I’ll change it then,” he said, picking up a chisel. I noticed the look of devastation on his face, and placed my hand on the stone, which had been warmed by the lights.
“Don’t, I like it,” I murmured, smiling. “It looks like he’s just escaped, and is enjoying a brief moment of snatched freedom, before he’s recaptured.”
“You always know the right thing to say,” he chuckled, replacing the chisel on his worktable. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Seth. But once again, how many times must I tell you not to let people in before I’m here?”
“Oh, lots and lots,” he muttered, already distracted. “But why do you always call me Seth? Everyone else knows me by my pen name.”
“Yes, but Tim Burr is so obviously a fake name. Plus, I like the name Seth; it has history to it. I never understood why you didn’t.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never liked it.”
With that, he returned to his work, and I faded into the background. As I began to walk away, he looked up and said, “I’m going away for a while. Can you watch the house until I get back?”
I could only nod, too shocked to speak. It was the first I’d heard about it, and I was more than a little hurt. But I had work to do, and I silently returned to it, with the tears beginning to trickle down my cheeks.
The memory faded, but the tears remained. That had been the last time I’d spoken to him, except to say Good Night. I hadn’t worried for the first couple of weeks, but after about a month, I called the police. There was no sign of him anywhere, and he was declared missing.
It was now a year later. I’d never quite believed he’d gone, and I still didn’t. Every time I unlocked the door, I expected to find him at his worktable, creating some new masterpiece. I was always sorely disappointed.
However, I couldn’t continue with my morose rememberings. I had a job to do. Some rich idiot had bought Seth’s house, despite all my opposition, so I’d gathered a group of his friends and mine, and we were removing as many pieces of art as we could. I wasn’t about to let him have them. They were Seth’s life work.
I grabbed the unfinished statue; it was surprisingly heavy. I headed to the door, where a string of people were struggling out with various paintings, and others were slipping back in to get more. The van must have been pretty full by now. I was almost at the door, when someone shouted at me.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Excuse me? Is that how you normally address people?” I snapped.
“When I don’t know who they are.”
“For your information, I work here. You must be the one, who bought Seth’s house,” I said with disdain.
“Yes, I am, although I was led to believe it belonged to Tim Burr. My name is Greggory Chase.” He looked at the half done sculpture in my hands, and a frown knitted his brow. “What is that?”
I glanced down at it. “This is an unfinished sculpture by Tim Burr, entitled ‘Freedom’. It was his most recent work before he went away.”
“But it’s a fat pony,” he scoffed.
“You don’t know much about art, do you?” I said, smiling wryly.
“No, it’s never really interested me,” he drawled. “But I know enough to know that you are stealing my priceless works of art.”
I scowled at him, and, without looking away, handed the statue to someone behind me. “Keep moving the pictures,” I whispered to her, briefly looking away.
Turning back around, I found that he’d come much closer, leaving the safety of the rest of the house, in order to gaze at the art work. I stormed over. I wasn’t going to let him get away with that.
“Your art work,” I hissed. “How dare you suggest that they belong to you?” I gestured behind me, at the myriad of paintings on the wall. “These are a man’s life’s work. They are bright and beautiful, dark and harrowing, or just plain adorable. They are in every media and style. That is the real reason for his success; there is always at least one work of art that appeals to everyone. But you,” I snarled, stepping towards him He backed away, scared. “You only see them as a quick way to make money,” I smirked. “And they’re not even yours to sell. You may have bought the house, but you couldn’t possibly afford to have bought all the art.”
“B…but I was told it came with the house,” he stammered.
Laughing harshly at him, I said, “Who told you that, the estate agent?” He nodded meekly, which only made me laugh harder. “And you believed them? How stupid are you? They’ll say anything for a quick sale, especially when they shouldn’t be selling the house.”
“What? They said that because Tim Burr was dead, and he didn’t have a will, his house had come up for sale.”
“And once again you believed the estate agent. You really are stupid. For one, this house, designed to his exact specifications, should never have been put on the market, and two, he had a will; I was one of his witnesses. However, he didn’t trust his solicitor and brought it home with him. So currently, it’s missing in the house somewhere, and there isn’t a copy at the solicitor’s. Thirdly, Seth isn’t dead.” He went to speak, but I interrupted him. “If the world-renowned artist, Tim Burr, had died, someone would have said something, or told the papers. All we have for now is speculation and rumour, which is worthless. Plus, he asked me to watch the house until he got back, so he must have thought he was coming back.” My eyes had begun to water, and I had to bite my bottom lip to stop myself from crying. When I was sure I wouldn’t, I looked up.
An ugly smirk had oozed across his face. “You loved him, didn’t you?”
For a moment, I was too shocked to speak. But, looking at the sneer on his face, anger took hold. “What you actually mean is, did I sleep with him? I didn’t, but I did love him. Nearly everybody did; he was a great man.” I was right up close to him now, but the irritating look of superiority hadn’t left his face. I’d show him. Grabbing hold of his shirt, I dragged him over to the doorway, where two portraits hung, one above the other. Pointing to the top one, I asked, “What do you think?”
“It’s…it’s very pretty,” he stammered, confused by the change of subject.
“Pretty,” I repeated, surprised by how pathetic the answer was. “This is a portrait of my own self-loathing, which I did when I was thirteen.”
“What’s it doing here then?” he snapped.
“It is here because…” I paused. Why had I given it to Seth? “Because he liked it. Because he asked if he could have it. How could I refuse him?” Smiling sadly at the memory, I gazed at the bottom one. “He did the other one,” I continued, allowing my thoughts to slip past my lips. “He said it showed how he saw me. I laughed when I first saw it; I couldn’t quite believe how bright it was.” Realising who I was talking to, I stopped, uncomfortable with where my thoughts were going. “And you, who aren’t even remotely interested in art, want to dismantle the only collection of Tim Burr originals, purely for financial gain. Well, I won’t let you. Even if I have to steal every single work of art, I will stop you. Because, all he asked me to do was watch his house, and if I allow you to sell even one painting, I will have failed him. How could I look him in the eye knowing that?”
Behind me, someone began to clap. Thinking they were being sarcastic, I span round, ready to confront them.
Seth stood in he doorway, smiling. “What a lovely sentiment, Susan.”
He was quickly surrounded by the people I’d brought, to help move the art, all bombarding him with questions. I couldn’t bring myself to go over however, as I didn’t quite believe that he’d come back.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Greggory trying to creep away, and I followed him, as I heard Seth say, “You’d all better start bringing my art back in, while I have a word with Susan.”
“You’re going nowhere, Mr Chase,” I said, quickly grabbing hold of his arm. “Seth will want to talk to you too.”
Whether he lashed out from fear or anger, I will never know, but he struck me across the cheek. I stumbled backwards and managed to fall over the steps, crying out more from surprise than pain. Greggory ran off, but I couldn’t chase him. All the emotions I had bottled up, spilled out, and I was left sobbing on the steps.
A few seconds later, Seth rushed passed, leaping down the steps. I clutched at the back of his top to stop him.
“D…don’t leave me again,” I begged quietly, between tears.
Indecision passed over his face, but he sat down beside me, yelling “Someone get after him.”
“I wouldn’t bother,” piped up a quiet voice.
“Why on earth not?” he roared.
“I…I locked the other door,” she stammered meekly.
“That was good thinking,” he said. “Could somebody go and fetch him?”
A couple of people set off down the corridor, while everybody else went to bring the artwork back in, leaving us alone.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I murmured, with a shaky smile. “I wasn’t hurt, just surprised.” But I couldn’t stop the flow of tears. Sobbing softly into Seth’s shirt, his arm about my shoulders, I gradually calmed down. Glancing up at the look of embarrassment on his face, I started to giggle.
“What?” he asked confused.
“N…nothing,” I choked, suppressing my laughter. “Where have you been?”
“I went on holiday. I told you.”
“Yes, but you said you’d be gone for a while, not a whole year. People were beginning to think you’d died. Why didn’t you call me, or at least write?”
“I…I forgot,” he stammered, thoroughly ashamed.
What could I say to that? It was him all over.
“But I bought you a present,” he said brightly. As he rummaged through his pockets, the smile disappeared. “It’s in the suitcase. I’ll go and get it.”
He made to get up, but I grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry about it; I can have it later. I want to know where you went for your holiday.”
“On a world cruise. I wanted more inspiration, as I hadn’t been able to paint anything. That horse had been the first thing I’d done in a long time, and I couldn’t work out why. I’d hoped some new sights and sounds might spark my imagination, and they did. The places I saw; India China, Japan, Egypt, New Zealand, Brazil, Peru, Canada, and the history; how could I not be inspired. But everything I drew or painted seemed flat and lifeless. So I sold them at an auction in New York. The auctioneer said they were my earlier works, and I couldn’t believe how much they made, considering how rubbish they were.” He laughed. “I spent the rest of the cruise trying to work out what the problem was. And I’ve finally figured it out.”
When he didn’t elaborate, I prompted, “What was wrong then?”
He gazed at me, a faint smile on his face, but, before he could answer, Greggory Chase was led back into the room. Seth’s expression hardened into one of fury and disgust, which I had never seen before.
“So you are Mr Chase,” he drawled.
A false smile flashed onto Greggory’s face. “The renowned Tim Burr,” he said, voice dripping honey. He stuck out his hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Staring at the offered hand with disdain, Seth sneered, “Strangely, I can’t say the same thing.”
“Pardon,” he scoffed, hand still held out.
“You have bought my house out from under me, attacked a close friend, and attempted to steal my artwork. I wouldn’t even shake your hand, if you were the Queen on a royal visit.”
Greggory quickly stuffed it back into his pocket. “Well, if you had left a will, none of this would have happened,” he snapped.
“Of course I left a will. Now, where did I hide it?” He thought for a minute, before heading towards the door. Taking the portrait, which he’d done of me, off the wall, he undid the back, and pulled out a sheet of parchment. “Here it is,” he said proudly. “You only had to look for it.”
We all stared at him and I began to giggle. “Who would think of looking there?” I asked, smiling. “You could barely remember, Seth.”
Blushing, he muttered, “Well, where should I hide it?”
Taking the will from him, I rolled it up and tied it with a ribbon from my pocket. You’ll never know when it might come in handy. “It should go back to the solicitor’s, where it belongs.”
“But…”
I interrupted him, “No buts. It will be safe there; they’ve got loads of them. And then this mess can’t happen agin.”
“Oh, all right,” he said in a huff. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” I laughed. “It’s nice to have you listening to reason for a change.”
Chuckling, he turned back to Greggory. “You may keep the house.” I stared at him in disbelief. “I’m going to have a new one built anyway,” he explained. “If you properly advertise it, you should be able to at least double or triple the amount you spent, if not more.” Greed and delight danced across Greggory’s face, until Seth continued, when they fled again. “However, you must wait a month until you begin to try to sell it, so that I can set my affairs in order. If you don’t, I will consider investigating the legality of your purchase.”
“O…of course,” he stuttered. “You’re very generous.”
“You can go now,” Seth prompted, and Greggory scurried out before he could change his mind.
When I was sure he was gone, I asked, “Why did you give him the house?”
“It wasn’t his fault that he got tricked by the estate agent. And I don’t need the money, so I’ll take it up with them later,” he said, smiling humourlessly. “Anyway I need a change.” Glancing at the cluttered walls and floor, he laughed, “And more space. I’ve got no room for the art I’ve already done, let alone any thing new. Plus, I could do with some new living arrangements; mine are looking a little shabby.”
“You can say that again,” I giggled. Worried, I asked, “Will you move far away?”
“No, probably not. I like it around here; the people are nice,” he claimed, smiling at me. “Besides, I saw a great plot about 10 miles away that would be perfect.”
With that, he wandered off, to help people move the art. I was a little hurt, but that was how he was. At least he was back. Sighing, I went to help too.
So we spent the rest of the day returning the art works to their original resting places. This took longer than I’d expected, as nobody could remember where they’d taken it from in the first place, and I was forced to oversee the entire operation, because I was the only one who knew where everything went. Directing people until the last glint of sunlight fled from the onset of night, I was soon tired and crotchety.
Eventually we finished and the people gradually went home, leaving Seth and I alone. Looking around for him, as I wanted to talk to him, I realised he wasn’t in the gallery, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen him all afternoon.
In a panic, I rushed off into the rest f the house. Passing the bathroom and office, dining room and kitchen, my worries began to rise, until I peeked into his bedroom. Stood in the centre of a catastrophic mess, he was sorting through his suitcase.
“You’ve been back one day and just look at the mess you’ve made,” I scolded jokingly.
In shock, he dropped the package in his hands, and I would have smashed, if it hadn’t landed on a particularly large pile of clothes. Spinning around, he shouted, “You stupid id…” He stopped when he realised it was me, blushing bright pink. “I…I’m sorry. You made me jump.”
“That’s ok, I shouldn’t have scared you,” I chuckled. “Shift over and I’ll help you sort this mess out.”
I handed him a big bundle of art supplies, telling him, “Go and put these away.”
Once he’d wandered out, I began by gathering up all the dirty clothes and sorting out the dark and light stuff. I threw the dark clothes in the washing machine first, leaving the light stuff in a pile on the floor, and returned to the bedroom. Emptying out what little remained in the suitcase onto the bed; I replaced the suitcase in its home at the bottom of the airing cupboard. When I got back to the room, Seth was sat on the bed.
“Right,” I declared. “You sort that lot out, and I’ll hang up the clean clothes.”
By the time I’d finished, Seth was only halfway through the packages on his bed, but the washing machine had finished. So I wandered off, putting the dark clothes in the tumble dryer and the light stuff in the wash. Then I fished out the kettle and set about making tea. I even managed to find some biscuits hidden at the back of cupboard. Arranging them on a plate, I put the whole lot on a tray. Carrying it into the bedroom, I was surprised to find that Seth wasn’t there.
I wandered back out into the corridor, the tray still tightly clutched in my hands. Peering around the entrance to the gallery, Seth watched me meandering along the corridor, completely confused until I spotted him.
“You know what?” I grumbled, wandering over to him. “I remember you employed me as an assistant, but I seem to have ended up a maid.”
He blushed, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry, I…I just don’t think.”
“I don’t mind,” I laughed. “But could you please move, because I really want to put this tray down.”
Apologetically, he shuffled backwards and sat on the steps. Placing the tray next to him, I plonked myself beside him. Silently, I poured the tea, handing him his cup and proffered the plate of biscuits.
The moon had slipped above the windowpane, while we’d been working. The merest slither off full, it bathed the room in pure cold light. For a while, we sipped our tea in silence, until a stray thought burst in Seth’s head. “I…er…I found your present,” he murmured, handing me a small package wrapped in purple paper.
Placing it on my lap, I carefully and gently unwrapped it, to reveal a delicate silver chain. Lifting it out, I found the pendant dangling from it; a deep purple amethyst beautifully carved into an art-deco style rose, each petal picked out in silver, with a circular fire opal blazing at its centre.
“I bought it in…in,” he laughed. “You know what? I can’t remember where I bought it. Do you like it?”
“It…it’s beautiful,” I stammered stunned. “I love it. Thank you so much.”
Reaching out and gently taking the chain from me, he undid the clasp and clipped it around my neck. The pendant hung comfortably between my breasts. Seth reached out to touch it, but snatched his hand back, blushing brightly when he realised where it was. I laughed at his reaction.
“I…I’m pleased you like it,” he mumbled, uncomfortably. “It suits you.”
I didn’t answer, embarrassed by his compliment. So we sat in silence, as I admired the night sky, like pearl strewn crushed velvet, through the narrow windows, high up near the roof. Then, remembering that I wanted to speak to Seth, I tore my gaze away and looked at him. To my horror, he was watching me.
“W…what?” I stammered self-consciously.
He seemed to snap back to reality and shook himself. “I’m sorry. I was staring, wasn’t I?”
“Just a bit,” I giggled nervously. “I…I wanted to ask you something. Why were you struggling to paint? You were about to tell me, but Mr Greggory Chase interrupted.”
“Oh, that,” he muttered guiltily. “It…it’s not important.”
However, I wasn’t about to let him get away with such a poor excuse. “You said that you thought it was because you didn’t have any inspiration,” I reminded him. “But then, when you were inspired, nothing you painted was any good. So what was wrong?”
Looking at me, he knew I wasn’t going to drop it and squirmed. “You see, at first I couldn’t work it out. I’ve never struggled so much to come up with ideas.” His gaze wandered off; staring at something I could never see. “But then, when I came home, you were stood there, so angry and vicious, arguing with Mr Chase, and now, as you sit there, bathed in moonlight, I just want to create something. Maybe in oils, or stone, not bronze; it’s too strong, or watercolours, too soft, possibly acrylics.”
“I…I don’t understand,” I stammered confused.
His rambling train of thought crashed, returning all his focus to me. “It’s you, Susan. You inspire me. The way you laugh, the fall of your hair when you try to hide behind it, how whenever you smile you still look sad.” He glanced up at the brilliant blush, spreading across my face, and stared at his knees. “I’m sorry. I’ve upset you.”
He looked so depressed, that I felt a little guilty. Pushing the tray back, I shuffled over to sit closer to him. “You didn’t upset me,” I whispered. “I’m just surprised; I’d never realised.”
“It took me this long to work it out,” he sighed. “And a whole year separated from you. Will you come with me this time?”
“What?” I choked.
“Well, in a month my house will belong to Greggory and he will sell it within a day. That will give me enough time to buy some land, design the house, put in for planning permission and arrange a contractor. But I won’t have anywhere to live by the end of the month, so I’ll book another cruise, and I’d like you to come with me.”
“I…I c…couldn’t possibly…”
He interrupted me. “We’ll have separate rooms, and I’ll pay.”
“Well that isn’t really the problem,” I protested.
“Then think of it as a business trip, or a bonus.”
“But that’s not the…”
“Please Susan,” he begged, breaking through my objections. “I need you to come; otherwise it’s pointless for me to go. Anything I create will be dull and lifeless, if you’re not there to inspire me.”
Feeling unable to refuse him, I sighed. “I’d love to come. But what will you do with all your art, while we’re gone?”
“I’ll…I’ll…” he stopped, looking downcast. “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you offer them to a gallery?” I suggested, smiling reassuringly. He stared at me blankly, so I explained. “They can have an exhibition of your works. Only for the year of course,” I added. “And you can make what demands you like, as any gallery would do just about anything to host the exhibition.”
“Oh, we’ll do that then.” He beamed at me. “Could you arrange it for me please?”
“Yes Seth,” I yawned, smiling tiredly. “But I’ll start in the morning. I’ve had a long day, and I’m going to bed.”
Crestfallen and subdued, he nodded slowly. “Ok, I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”
“Of course, bright and early as always. But first I’m going to do my last few chores,” I told him, picking up the tray.
He followed me out, into the kitchen, where I threw the crockery in the sink, deciding to leave it until the morning. Then I took the dark clothes out of the tumble dryer, leaving them in a basket on the floor, and the stuffed the light things in. When I looked up again, Seth had washed up the cups and left them on the side to drain.
“Thank you,” I said, standing close behind him. “That’s one less job I’ll have to do in the morning.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, shifting uncomfortably. Pulling out the plug, he tried to move away, so I stepped back, giving him more room. Focused on the floor, he quietly asked, “Are you going home now?”
“Yes, I’m tired and need to sleep.”
Heading instinctively towards the gallery, as I had grown so used to using that door, I was surprised to find Seth joining me. “I do know my way,” I joked.
“I...I know,” he smiled. “I just wanted to say good night.”
Smiling, I went to open the door, but before I could, he gave me a tight hug, so quick and surprising that I didn’t have time to respond. I blushed at his sudden show of affection.
“I missed you Susan,” he said so quietly that it was barely more than a breath. “And I’m sorry. I never meant for you to worry.”
For a while, I didn’t dare reply, until my tongue had freed itself from its knot. And even then I could only whisper. “I...I’ll see you tomorrow.” But the glimpse I caught of his hurt expression, before I closed the door behind me, caused me to pause, saying, “Seth, I...” I gulped, worried about what I was going to say, but continued nonetheless. “I missed you too.” With those last few quiet words, I allowed the door to swing shut and slowly walked to my car.
I spent most of that night wide awake, wondering, wishing and worrying, although I eventually fell into an exhausted sleep in the small hours of the morning.
The next morning we acted as if we had forgotten the events of the previous evening and settled down to our work. It took me the better part of the month to finalise the arrangements with the gallery, as at first they thought it was hoax and insisted on a series of long, dull meetings with both Seth and myself to check the validity of our offer. Seth however, flew through his tasks, finishing before the end of the first week. Money really did speed up the whole process. After that he spent the rest of the month completing his sculpture of the galloping pony, and began a portrait of two people fighting, which was obviously based on my argument with Greggory. I hadn’t seen him so happy for ages, and that didn’t include his year away.
But this meant that I was left with the arduous chore of packing for our trip, although I wasn’t too annoyed; at least Seth would have a sensible supply of luggage, rather than a huge quantity of art supplies and little else. However, I did have to force Seth to come shopping with me, because he had very few suitable clothes for a cruise. So I took him to buy several fitted suits and helped him to pick shirts and ties, jeans and t-shirts, shoes and trainers, but I drew the line at underwear.
I also had nothing to wear, as I hadn’t bought any new clothes for over a year, and I used the cruise as a fine excuse to replace my wardrobe. I didn’t let Seth come with me though; I wanted it to be a surprise. And it was worth it, if only to see his shock, on that first formal evening, when I cam down in a rich purple, silk halter neck dress.
The cruise itself passed by like a dream with the days at sea blending together and every city bringing new sights and inspiration for Seth’s art. He even sold several prints and an original on board.
But I refused to let him spend all his time drawing, as I had only packed a sketchbook and pencils, and dragged him off the ship every chance I got., taking him sightseeing, shopping and making sure he spoke to people. Even when we were confined to the ship, I kept him busy, as we took part in different activities, from the art auction, to dancing, to gambling in the casino. I’d never had such fun, and gradually Seth and I grew closer, until having separate rooms was a hindrance.