by S. B. Hayes
‘Not until it’s finished … I’m painting it from memory.’
The idea that he knew my face well enough to paint was completely mind-blowing. I wanted to savour the moment, but he made a sudden suggestion that sounded more like a command. ‘Let’s go out.’
With barely enough time to grab my bag, I felt myself being dragged out of his studio and down three flights of stairs. ‘Where to?’ I panted.
‘Anywhere.’
There was a fleeting glimpse of Merlin’s mother taking her art class in the conservatory, the living room with its mismatched furniture, brightly coloured canvases and oriental rugs, the dining room with an enormous trestle table and the kitchen with an original range oven, quarry tiles and giant dresser. There were humane mousetraps in a couple of the corners and the weird thought came to me that even the vermin in Merlin’s house were hopelessly cool.
We finally stood outside, breathing in the last rays of summer, which seemed more special somehow because it was a last farewell to the sun before winter killed everything off. We dawdled along the canal and then through the railway arch into the town. Merlin stood out from the crowd, and people stared at him and then at me because I was with him. I laughed and moved as close as I could to him. We reached a cafe, La Tasse, a trendy espresso-type place filled with businessmen with their laptops and ladies lunching. We sat in a booth by the window on cream leather seats positioned back to back like in a railway carriage. We were newly together, and I figured we must be generating some kind of energy. Even the waitress did an about-take when she noticed us, and I rested one hand on Merlin’s arm as he ordered our drinks.
This was how it felt to be one of those bright girls with the world at their feet, the type who expected to be happy instead of just apologizing for taking up space in the universe. At a party once, something strange had happened to me – I actually sparkled. Everyone laughed at my jokes, girls talked to me like I was someone and boys wanted to dance with me. I knew something magical was in the air and I wasn’t really me that night – invisible Katy. This other person was still there inside, but she never came out again. When I was with Merlin I almost dared to dream I could be the other girl – the best of me.
Merlin watched me drink my latte and kissed the froth off my top lip. With flushed faces and excited smiles we sat side by side in the booth and talked about our plans for the future. We imagined his first art exhibition and my first fashion show. We talked about Rome, Venice and Paris as if these amazing cities were there just waiting for us to conquer them. Merlin looked down at the table and fiddled distractedly with a spoon.
‘There’s something else, Katy.’ For a moment he struggled to continue, and his face was so attractive, his eyes wide and beseeching, generous mouth parted slightly, his voice husky. ‘I’m not great at relationships … girls expect me to phone when I’m painting, and they seem to get so jealous over nothing …’
‘I don’t get jealous,’ I interrupted hastily. ‘I’m the least jealous person around.’
‘I sensed that,’ he answered with relief. ‘I felt you were different … and completely special.’
I was dreamily hanging on his every word, happy that Merlin seemed to be letting his guard down, but something distracted me – a flash of green – except that when I looked properly the green must have been in my mind. Walking past the window next to me was the girl, and she was dressed in blue denim. She swivelled around to stare at me.
‘Did you see her?’ I asked Merlin. ‘That girl with the green eyes.’
He hadn’t taken his eyes off me for a second. ‘I can see her now. You have beautiful green eyes.’
‘Not like these,’ I protested. ‘They’re really … impenetrable and creepy.’
He laughed, kissed my hand and went to the counter to pay for our drinks. I shivered, realizing she must have been in the cafe at the same time as us.
‘Excuse me,’ I asked the waitress. ‘My … friend was in here, but we must have missed each other. She has straight dark hair and she was wearing jeans and …’
‘She was sitting over there,’ the woman replied, pointing to the end booth. She gave me an odd look and I began to cough to cover my embarrassment.
I felt spooked again, thinking of her sitting close to us, although, thankfully, not close enough to hear our conversation. Merlin walked me home and I tried to push her to the back of my mind. It wasn’t hard – with him beside me I was almost floating. When we reached my road I pulled Merlin into a small alleyway that ran along the back of my house, the entrance flanked by a two-metre wall, just the right height to keep us concealed from prying eyes. It took us ages to finally say goodbye. Whenever I tried to prise myself away, Merlin would pull me back again. My face and neck burned as if they were on fire. I rubbed my cheeks self-consciously, wondering how to explain away my kissing rash, but when I finally got inside Mum didn’t seem to have noticed. She gave a brave smile when I asked how her day had been, but I could detect an undercurrent of reproach.
I hummed around the house, delirious with happiness, reliving every minute of the day and texting Nat and Hannah to tell them about it. Midway through my exclamation marks, Mum called my name. I raced into the living room to find her waving a packet of cigarettes in the air, her face like thunder.
‘I’m very disappointed, Katy,’ she said, lowering her voice to a hush that was somehow worse than being roared at. ‘You’ve always promised not to take up such a disgusting habit.’
‘They’re not mine,’ I replied incredulously. ‘Smoking is horrible.’
‘They fell out of your bag,’ she continued, her eyes boring into mine. ‘I suppose Merlin’s convinced you it’s fashionable or something and you want to please him.’
‘Merlin hates smoking,’ I insisted, growing more and more indignant. ‘All my friends do … I can’t think how they got there.’
Mum cut an imaginary line in the air with one hand. ‘End of discussion, Katy. If Merlin is involved, I won’t hesitate to stop you from seeing him. You can count on that.’
There was no point in arguing further. Mum always had the last word. It was a mystery how the cigarettes had got into my bag to make such a sour end to a perfect day, and I felt aggrieved to have been accused so unfairly, but Mum had made it clear that the subject was closed. I had the definite impression that she wasn’t happy with me seeing Merlin and this had provided an excuse to express her disapproval.
It took me ages to drop off to sleep and I tossed and turned all night. That dream always came when I was feeling stressed and it had never changed … until tonight. This time, when I grabbed the figure sitting at the mirror and forced her to look at me, the face wasn’t mine, it belonged to the girl on the bus. This time her eyes were green and fathomless. I stood back, drowning in her hatred.
CHAPTER
THREE
No matter how busy I kept myself, a nagging sense of foreboding lurked deep inside, but I tried to suppress it and concentrate on Merlin instead. It was official – we were a couple. There was no need for an announcement at college – word soon spread and my popularity soared. We spent every minute we could together, and Nat and Hannah joked that they were sick of seeing us mooning about and gazing into each other’s eyes.
Merlin made arrangements to call at mine on Saturday, which was nerve-wracking because Mum had already judged him. I was on pins all morning, and when I peered out of our front door for the twentieth time to see if he was coming it was impossible to miss the sight of Luke unloading his ancient car of all the stuff he’d brought from his flat. It was filled with boxes, plastic bags, crumpled clothes thrown into a heap and there were plates, cups and a kettle rattling around on the back seat.
‘Where’s my favourite Kat?’ he called over.
I smiled at his usual nickname for me and went over to him. ‘No more student life,’ I taunted, flinching as a glass smashed on to the pavement. ‘Now you’re a proper grownup.’
‘Not in a million years,’ he scoffed.
‘You’re talking to the guy who used to put snails down your back and spiders up your nose.’
Luke Cassidy was five years older than me and had spent the last ten years terrorizing me in every way he could. I spent my childhood trailing after him and his friends, but they always managed to shake me off. Then he went away to university and I was surprised how much I missed having him around. But he was back and still teasing me.
‘Little Kat’s grown up too,’ he said, gingerly picking up the broken pieces. ‘I saw you with your boyfriend and waved, but you were kind of occupied.’
I blushed, knowing how spaced out I must have looked holding hands with Merlin. I hastily changed the subject. ‘So what’s it like being a journalist?’
‘So far I’ve covered three church fêtes, a dog show and the story of an old man who sleeps in a tree house with a squirrel.’
‘No calls from the nationals?’
Luke gazed skywards. ‘Maybe next year.’ Out of the corner of one eye he seemed to be peering at me.
‘What’s wrong? Is my make-up smudged?’
‘You look different, that’s all,’ Luke muttered, and quickly lowered his eyes.
I stretched out one finger to touch his chin and grinned. ‘So do you. Luke finally has to shave.’
‘I’ve been shaving for years,’ he protested, and I pressed my lips together so as not to laugh. Luke had a smooth baby face and corn-coloured hair which made him look younger than he was. Leaving his car doors open, he marched through our front door, without being invited. I tried to head him off, but he reached the kitchen, pulled up a chair and said lazily, ‘Put the kettle on, Kat.’
My hands glued themselves to my hips. ‘You can’t treat our house like your own any more.’
He shrugged. ‘Why not?’
I was trying to come up with a reason when Mum appeared from nowhere and ruined everything. She got out Luke’s ‘special’ mug, which had his name on, and brought over the biscuit tin. I refused to sit down and glanced at the clock.
‘You’re edgy, Kat.’
‘Merlin’s calling for me,’ I announced, trying to sound aloof and worldly wise. ‘Then we’re going to his house. He’s a talented painter and has his own studio.’
Luke didn’t laugh at Merlin’s name, but I could tell that he wanted to. ‘Where does he live?’
‘Over on Victoria Road, by the riding school.’
‘He’s a posh boy then.’
My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. ‘He is not. Merlin’s just ordinary, even if his house is really grand. And his mum devotes lots of time to penniless students and lets them work in her studio.’
‘How noble,’ he commented sarcastically.
‘Don’t be so judgemental, Luke. Mum is already convinced he’s encouraged me to smoke, and now you think he’s over-privileged.’
Luke leaned back in the chair, taking a long satisfied slurp of coffee. ‘You haven’t fallen for that tortured-artist thing, have you? This … Merlin probably has a whole line of girls whose portrait he’s painting.’
I narrowed my eyes dangerously, about to make a sharp retort, when the doorbell rang. Merlin hovered on the doorstep with his usual air of confidence, but I suspected he might have dressed up for the occasion, because his jeans weren’t even faded and his shirt had been ironed. I pulled him into the lounge and stammered an introduction to Mum, hoping that Luke would stay in the kitchen, but he chose to come through right then. He and Merlin looked each other up and down. If it wasn’t so uncomfortable I might have laughed because they were so different – Luke, stocky, blonde with an open friendly face; Merlin, tall and dark with guarded features. I mumbled something about Luke living next door, grabbed my coat and shot off. Merlin took my hand. His thumbnail dug into my skin and it hurt but I didn’t stop him.
‘What’s so important?’ I asked, finally drawing breath as my house faded from view. ‘You said I had to come over to yours urgently.’
Merlin hesitated. ‘It’s the portrait, Katy, I just can’t get the colours right.’ He leaned over and nuzzled my cheek. ‘My concentration’s gone. Can’t think why.’
‘How can I help?’
‘You can sit for me. The light is best at this time of day. If you pose, then it might all come together.’
‘OK, no problem, Merlin.’ We walked the length of his sweeping drive and I kicked myself for sounding so lukewarm. ‘I mean, of course I will. It’s the least I can do.’
I draped myself across the battered chenille sofa, trying to minimize my hips and not think about Rubens paintings of amply proportioned naked ladies, their flesh soft and dimpled.
‘Have to change,’ Merlin said.
Without warning, he opened the poppers on his shirt in one swift movement and threw it on the chair. He took an old T-shirt from a hook and pulled it over his head. I averted my eyes, but not before I’d glimpsed his bare chest and the line of black hairs snaking downwards past his navel.
My face burned with embarrassment and I was worried about being immortalized in the painting with giant rosy cheeks. I tried to blame it on the sun. ‘It’s quite … hot in here, isn’t it?’
Merlin muttered something about warm air rising and opened one of the roof windows. He made a square with the fingers of his left hand, looked at me and then back at the canvas. He shook his head. ‘Your hair is impossible to replicate … it’s unreal … like spun gold crossed with warmed chestnuts, and your complexion is … alabaster freckles.’
He smiled and I melted inwardly. Most guys would struggle to come up with the feeblest compliment, but Merlin managed to make one sentence sound like an entire sonnet. I tried not to fidget, but it was torture for me to be under so much scrutiny, and the temperature in his studio was increasing. I had to take off my cardigan, hoping that this didn’t look like a bad attempt at striptease. Merlin worked for ages and I stayed silent because he was so wrapped up in what he was doing. Even though Merlin was painting me he seemed distant, almost as if he saw me in an abstract form. My eyes flickered as the sun grew more intense and I could see a drop of sweat shining on his brow.
‘Time for a break?’ I suggested.
Merlin nodded. He wiped his hands on a piece of cloth and sauntered over.
‘Room for one more, Katy?’
I sat up quickly and drew my legs under me. ‘How’re your … colours?’
‘Much better.’
I fidgeted and stared at the door.
‘There’s nowhere to run,’ he said softly.
I rubbed my nose, smoothed down my hair and looked about the room while Merlin stayed perfectly still, watching me. I rubbed my arms, shivering now despite the heat.
‘I want to look at you, Katy.’
I tried to laugh it off. ‘You’ve been staring at me for ages.’
‘Not like this.’ He put one hand under my chin and I was forced to look back. His eyes were penetrating, sharp and flinty grey.
Merlin’s head inclined towards mine as one hand slipped the strap of my camisole over my shoulder and his lips kissed me all the way up my throat.
‘Your mum might walk in,’ I muttered, tensing up.
‘She won’t.’
He made his way to my cheek, my nose, even my eyelids before turning his attention to my mouth when it became impossible to speak. He wrapped his arms around me so tightly that I could barely breathe. It felt so natural and I shocked myself by sneaking one hand under his T-shirt, counting each rib with my fingers. I felt him shudder.
‘Cold hands?’ I laughed, knowing this wasn’t the reason. I felt an unexpected sense of power.
At last I knew what all the fuss about kissing was. We were so tightly pressed together that I didn’t know where my limbs began and his ended and we both slid down the sofa until we were horizontal. It felt like I was drowning in him. Then loud voices made me flinch.
‘They’re coming from the garden,’ Merlin reassured me. ‘Mum’s gathered her collection of stray artists together.’
&nb
sp; There was a banging sound and the studio door flew open, sending papers flying into the air. I extricated myself from his embrace and sat up again.
‘It’s just the wind. Mum’s a fresh air freak.’
‘Sorry, I mumbled. ‘Don’t know what’s the matter with me.’ I pointed my head down towards the floor. ‘I’m … not sure I’m ready for something … heavy.’
‘Heavy?’ Merlin ran one hand through his hair and blew out slowly. ‘Katy, I’m in so deep already … If you just want to see a movie once a month and hold hands, I’m not sure I can do that.’
I bit my lip, shamefaced. He stroked my arm but I held myself rigid. ‘Maybe it’s just a bit … too soon.’
His voice was raw with emotion. ‘I knew how I felt about you in seven seconds but if you have to wait to feel the same about me …’
The lump in my throat grew bigger. ‘I do feel the same, but maybe we just need somewhere more … private.’
Merlin smiled knowingly. ‘I’m thinking of locking you here in my tower to keep you away from the rest of the world.’
I was about to reply when I noticed the time. The afternoon had vanished and I needed to get back to Mum. Whenever I was with Merlin the hours flew by. I peeked at the painting when he left the room. It was nothing more than a series of fine brushstrokes, but my face had begun to take shape, shining pale and ethereal, the colours muted, completely unlike Merlin’s usual bold style. I heard footsteps returning and quickly moved away. Reluctantly we left his house, hand in hand, and walked back through the garden. When we reached the gate I glanced back, squinting, even though the sun had dropped. There was a figure moving through the trees so quickly and lightly that it could have been a sprite, but something about it made me uneasy. I looked at Merlin, but he didn’t appear to have noticed anything, and I was beginning to think that the girl had bewitched me. She couldn’t be everywhere like this, it wasn’t possible. I quickened my pace because it felt as if hundreds of eyes were watching us. When I kissed Merlin goodbye it was with a strange desperation that I couldn’t explain.