If You Love Me, I'm Yours

by Lizzie Chantree

  ‘Really?’ boomed Dot, making Maud wince again even though the phone was on the floor. ‘He hasn’t mentioned anyone.’

  That’s because the lady in question is you, thought Maud. It was so obvious to everyone else, even an outsider could see how smitten he was with Dot. Unfortunately, it seemed that Dot was totally oblivious to his ardour. Poor Elliott. ‘What can I do for you, Dot?’

  Dot paused for a moment as if she couldn’t decide what to say. ‘I know we’ve only known each other for a month, if you count the gallery opening and then me turning up on your doorstep. I admire your artwork, even if it doesn’t quite hit all of the criteria for its own gallery show,’ she babbled candidly, having no idea how her words were like a punch in the guts to Maud, who was incredulous at how rude Dot could be without realising. ‘I believe that you’re honest with everyone other than your parents, which makes you and me almost twins! I need you to sober up and come to my studio, like we agreed a couple of weeks ago. I’ve got something to show you.’

  Maud’s ears picked up on the importance of that last sentence and she grabbed the phone and put it to her ear, before realising it was still on speaker and biting her tongue in shock when Dot spoke again, making her jump and drop the phone on her lap. ‘Maud… are you there?’

  Maud let out a breath when she saw how lucky she had been that her phone hadn’t bounced onto the floor and quickly turned the speaker off before answering. ‘I’d love to. Tell me the address and when you want me to come and I’ll rearrange my busy schedule for you,’ she tried to joke, head pounding.

  ‘Wonderful.’ Dot seemed really excited now, reeling off the address of her studio and the time she wanted Maud to arrive. The details went in one of Maud’s ears and straight out the other as she tried to concentrate. ‘Text me,’ was all she said as she slumped even further down, using her arm as a pillow and rested her weary head.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Dot touched her head against the cool glass of the window and decided she must be mad like the rest of her family. She hadn’t even let her own brother into her studio space for weeks, and now she had recklessly invited Maud, whom she barely knew. It was weird how they were so different, but the feeling of having a family that confused the hell out of them connected them in some way. They had grabbed onto each other like they were kindred spirits, even though they were actually polar opposites, but they had discovered they kept each other sane and enjoyed each other’s company. Dot usually made friends with people from the gallery or hanging around her parents’ house, as this was easier than making an effort with strangers, but it was getting monotonous and she was desperate for change.

  She had made sure that her brother and parents were out on appointments with the media and clients before she asked Maud over. Her eyes darted up and down the street from her vantage point at the first floor window of her studio, which was one above Nate’s, in the trendy, Bohemian end of town. He had a flat above the gallery too, but the family tended to descend there if they had an exhibition on, which she knew drove him mad at times, so he’d bought this place and offered the other studio space to her.

  It would be just like her parents to turn up unannounced today, or for them to ignore an appointment, if they were distracted by something else on their way there. They were notorious for drifting into little galleries and cafés, making the best of friends with the owners and leaving a complete furore in their wake as people recognised them and began taking photos. She loved them dearly, but they were not easy to live with. Her mother was constantly checking on her and second-guessing her work, even though Dot had proved her worth time and again. Her dad said it was because they were worrying she was overstretched, but she felt they were just running scared in case she left and represented someone else, when she was the only person who knew their work inside and out.

  She understood and was quite flattered that they wanted to keep her to themselves, but they were suffocating her. She wondered what they would say when she finally showed them her current work and explained that she dreamt about representing other artists, including her own work, whether they appreciated it or not. Surely she could find someone who could see promise in her designs?

  Finally, she spotted a worried and slightly tired-looking Maud slowly walking down the street, examining the door numbers above each one she passed, before moving on. She was dressed in a knee length black skirt and a lightweight black jumper, which came up to her neck. She would be horrified to learn that this disguise actually accentuated her bountiful curves and made it difficult for anyone to look anywhere else but her heaving bosom. Maud’s chest wasn’t that big, but as she had a small waist, womanly hips and wore tops that went up to her neck most of the time, her boobs looked enormous.

  Dot opened the window and hollered down the road until Maud finally stopped and glanced up to see where the noise was coming from. She smiled and seemed to sigh in relief before hurrying Dot’s way. Dot braced herself for another disappointment once her friend stepped over the threshold and appraised her work, but gritted her teeth and went to buzz Maud in and open herself up to the possibility of failure once again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Maud, whose hangover had abated slightly, had a wide grin on her face when she raced up the steps and came in, but then stifled a laugh when she saw the big square holes that had been cut out of Dot’s long-sleeved top, revealing a bright orange and green fitted vest underneath. The combination was hideous.

  ‘Don’t laugh at my outfit when you’re wearing that top. It makes every man in a twenty-foot radius stop and drool over your bazookas,’ sniped Dot, who seemed fidgety and looked ready to run for the hills. Maud’s face fell in shock and Dot had the grace to hang her head in shame briefly, before she laughed to show she was joking and pulled Maud further in, slamming the sleek metal door behind her. Maud started to stutter about her clothes, but Dot shut her up by handing her a full glass of white wine that she’d poured and turned her towards her studio area.

  Maud stared in awe, studying walls full of the most awful artworks she had ever seen. She hadn’t wanted more wine after last night, but changed her mind and took a hefty slug. Poor Dot.

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Dot, as Maud scrunched up her face, then tried to flatten it out again with a neutral look so that Dot didn’t get such a walloping punch of rejection. Dot steered Maud forward, covering her eyes until they stood at the end of the room in front of a little workstation and pedestal. Dot told Maud to stand still and dropped her hand. ‘This is the reason I bought you here.’

  Maud opened her eyes slowly and then they went wide and she nearly fell over in surprise. Dot looked absolutely crestfallen. Maud guessed Dot felt she’d finally found her creative muse, and once again she’d failed. ‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’ Dot asked in a flat voice, looking like her world was crashing down. Maud could almost see her dreams evaporate before eyes that were brimming with glistening tears.

  Maud rocked back on her heels and tried to steady herself before she dropped her wine. She took another hefty sip, then realised the torture Dot must be going through. She herself felt the same thing every time she unveiled a new painting before her parents’ critical eyes.

  In front of Maud was a tall white pedestal stand with a single piece of jewellery nestled at the centre. It was an exquisitely crafted belt buckle in bronze wire, but the disturbing thing about it was that it was a near replica of one of Maud’s own paintings. The central wire was wrapped intricately to form the face of a badger, like Maud’s most recent work, and splashes of enamel had been used to bring it to life. She took a steadying breath. ‘It’s beautiful, Dot.’

  Dot let out the breath she’d been holding and her eyes lit up. ‘Really?’

  ‘But...’

  ‘Oh, you’ve seen them then?’

  ‘Them?’

  ‘The gorgeous little paintings that have been left round, in the name of love.’

  Maud smiled, as this sounded far more romantic than her idea
of finding someone who didn’t hate her style. ‘Um... Yes, I have.’

  ‘I suppose most people will have seen them by now. I was going to ask you to help me find the artist, as they seem to be local to you.’ Dot frowned, as Maud appeared really alarmed by this titbit of information for some reason.

  ‘They do?’ she squawked, her mouth suddenly bone dry.

  ‘I cross-referenced the drop off points and your home village is central. I thought maybe they were starting from a base and working outwards. Of course I could be completely wrong, but I decided that it was a good place to begin, as I had nothing else to go on. The artist is a complete mystery for now.’

  Bloody hell. Maul felt her stomach curl up and die. If Dot had virtually found her, so could everyone else with half a brain. Maud had been so stupid to mess about like this. She envisaged people gossiping about her, and knew she would have to stop this stupid and dangerous game she was playing right now.

  Dot spoke quietly. ‘I was trying to find my confidence as an artist, but this has made things worse. I feel like a fraud and a copycat,’ she tried to explain, a pleading note in her voice, which was so unusual for an exuberant character like Dot, who usually did as she pleased. ‘It’s weird, but I’ve been hiding up here and trying to release some creativity by making jewellery for a while now. I don’t let anyone into my studio.’

  ‘Not even Nate?’

  ‘Especially Nate! I don’t want him to see me with another failed attempt to fit in.’

  Maud felt the knot of tension in her shoulders begin to ease a little. At least no one else had seen Dot’s work. ‘Why emulate the paintings?’ She really wanted to know, as the detailing on the buckle was so beautiful that Maud’s hands were itching to pick it up and study it from every angle.

  Dot sighed and pulled out the chair next to her soldering desk and flopped down onto it with utter despondency. ‘I tried my own style, but as usual it was awful. The paintings inspired me and this was the first piece I’ve been proud of, but I am an idiot as it’s a rip-off. I, of all people, should know better – I’m the one who sells original art by talented people for a living. I know how bad my family feel if another artist tries to copy their work. It’s happened to more than half of them. I wasn’t going to sell this, I just wanted to make it and enjoy looking at it.’ She gulped a huge mouthful of wine and swung her legs up onto her workstation, which wasn’t easy, as it was set up quite high and she almost toppled off.

  ‘I hoped it might inspire me to use nature or animals in other pieces, if you thought my new style was good enough,’ said Dot, through another big mouthful of wine.

  Maud took a thoughtful sip of her own wine and tried to decide if she was annoyed or incredibly flattered that finally someone thought enough of her work to emulate it. Sighing, she decided it was annoying, and Dot would need nurturing to find her own unique style. She was definitely a gifted artist if this piece was anything to go by. No one had even liked Maud’s paintings a few weeks ago and now here one of them was, gilded and made into something women might wear. The thought gave Maud a thrill of pleasure, as maybe one day in her wildest dreams, she might be able to commission someone like Dot to create a collection of jewellery based on her art.

  She gently started to pick up the buckle, then stopped and turned to Dot to see if it was ok to touch her work. Dot’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but she just shrugged her shoulders to acquiesce. Maud brought the delicate piece of art to her face and studied it carefully. It really was charming and she couldn’t believe her own art had inspired such refined work. ‘I think that it’s a real likeness to the painting in the paper,’ she said carefully, ‘but there’s no mistaking the craftsmanship, Dot, it’s exquisite.’

  Dot spun round in her chair and stood up in surprise. ‘Really?’

  Maud smiled gently to her friend, knowing how important her next words would be. ‘Really. You don’t need to emulate anyone else, Dot. With talent like this you can make designs of your own. I bet if you drew some leaves or animals, they would look gorgeous as buckles.’

  ‘That’s the problem,’ Dot grimaced and plonked herself down again desperately. ‘I can’t draw.’

  Maud was taken aback and thought about the dilemma for a moment. ‘But you can draw with wire. Look at what you’ve created. I’m a teacher and I draw, so I can help you.’

  Dot looked astounded and hopeful. ‘You’ll teach me? My parents tried to foist loads of their painter friends on me, but they just scared me witless with their own ability. It can be so intimidating drawing in front of a proper artist.’ Dot cocked her head to one side and considered Maud. ‘It’s a great idea,’ she said sloshing more wine into her mouth. ‘I should have tried having lessons from someone who isn’t a great artist, no insult intended,’ said Dot without malice, as Maud almost choked on her wine.

  Dot continued speaking her thoughts out loud. ‘I mean, I’m sure your art is good and all that, but it’s not like my family’s art... no offence.’

  Maud leaned on the pedestal in exasperation. She’d just offered to help Dot after she’d copied her work, and now she was insulting her talents like everyone else, and thinking that by saying ‘no offence’, that her comments were magically not massively offensive. Maud had fleetingly considered trusting Dot with her secret, but she definitely wasn’t telling her now. She thought about letting her stew on her own too, but the teacher in her had found a new pupil. She wanted to prove to Dot’s parents that their daughter wasn’t a lost cause, the way she wished there was some way she could prove it to hers.

  Chapter Twenty

  Maud dragged her feet as she walked along the path to her parents’ house. She stopped and looked up at her childhood home, but didn’t feel any real connection to it. The front garden was manicured and the house was clean and solid, but there was nothing to inspire an inquisitive mind here. Everything was rigid and had its place. Even the shed at the bottom of the square garden was freshly painted every year and, as her dad wasn’t much of a handyman, the only tools in there were for the garden, alphabetically organised and hanging on the wall. Even the fold-down mower hung its head in shame every time it coughed up a mouthful of grass and deposited it on the shed floor.

  Reaching up and pressing the doorbell, Maud could hear tinkling laughter from inside and her stomach sank further. Her mum had summoned her to Sunday lunch, which would last for hours and have three formal courses. Laughter inside meant that they had guests and guests meant Maud would have to sit there and listen to her mother’s bragging and not vomit. Her shoulders ached from all of the drawing she was doing lately and she smiled at the memory of the few times she had sat in the park with Dot and taught her how to simplify what she saw and capture it in a sketch that she could interpret with wire. Maud hadn’t considered teaching adults, and had certainly never thought of giving art lessons, but it was a new possibility she might explore one day. She was already qualified as a teaching assistant, but could take some classes herself first to make sure she had the skills to set up structured lessons. A strange thing had happened through working with Dot. She realised she really did have the ability to paint and draw. By walking through the steps of line and form with Dot, she had recaptured the basics and knew she had them mastered. From now on, her parents’ opinion wouldn’t hurt so much, she had decided, but standing waiting for them to answer the door, she wasn’t so sure she had the confidence to tell them yet.

  Dot was still so wrapped up in her newfound skill that she was oblivious to the turmoil Maud was going through with her own art. Although Dot was working hard on her designs, she had persuaded Maud to sketch some square buckles with plants and animals hiding inside for her to use in her first exhibition and had insisted Maud keep the first belt she had made, as she would never be able to sell it anyway. Dot had said it would act as a sort of barter system for the drawing lessons Maud was giving her, as she refused to take any money from Dot for her time. Maud had eventually taken the buckle and reverently hidden it
in her wardrobe with her other treasures, but she often took it out and sat and stared at the beauty of Dot’s craftsmanship and the painting which seemed to have sprung to life on the surface. Maud hoped Dot’s new collection would be as good. If only Dot knew she had handed the treasure back to original artist. Maud hadn’t plucked up the nerve to tell her yet and the timing had just never seemed right to bring it into conversation. Maud had now left it too long.

  She was jolted out of her reverie when her father opened the door. She had no idea of how long they had left her standing on the doorstep whilst they chatted merrily, but she was sure they hadn’t hurried along. She gave her dad a warm hug as he welcomed her inside and was surprised to find her mother almost on the edge of her seat, and straining to hear what the other couple in the room were saying. Maud recognised them as fairly new residents to the street, about her parents’ age or maybe a bit younger, but from her mother’s bright-eyed look as she shushed her and made a waving motion to the seat by the window, Maud could tell the gossip was good.

  Marcy and Don stood up politely and broke their conversation to greet Maud and her mother suddenly jumped up and followed suit, swooping in and checking Maud’s appearance, then giving her a quick hug and sitting back down again, looking expectantly at Marcy who giggled and rushed back too, as if she had the most exciting news to share.