Times Like These

by Ana McKenzie

  ‘Proclivities? You mean your sexuality?’ Merren was fascinated.

  ‘I do indeed,’ Bianca answered. ‘I bet your mother hasn’t had a problem with you being gay.’

  Broad Bay was straight ahead, her mother’s house set just a little way back from the main road. ‘How do you know I’m gay?’

  Bright eyes turned to her. ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ Merren admitted. ‘But, well, I guess it’s not like you can see me very well.’

  ‘I’ve seen you naked,’ Bianca said.

  ‘Oh Jeeze.’ Merren groaned. ‘Are you being deliberately provocative?’

  Bianca laughed. ‘Yes. I guess I am, I’m sorry. You’ve just made me feel so much more like myself.’

  ‘And this is how you are?’ Merren asked. ‘Wanting to meet my mother, asking how she was about me being gay?’ She pulled up into the driveway and parked behind her mother’s car. ‘And you still haven’t told me how you knew.’

  Bianca was sitting up, fumbling with the buckle on her seat belt, face lifted high, eyes bright.

  ‘Here, let me help you with that,’ Merren said, touching the hands that were wrestling with the seat belt. Bianca’s long, supple fingers were warm, and Merren swallowed and lifted Bianca’s hand out of the way, holding on a moment too long.

  ‘That,’ Bianca said, her voice low, the laughter gone. ‘That, Merren. That’s how I know.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Merren’s mother gazed at her wide-eyed across the kitchen, then hustled her behind the pantry door.

  ‘Do you know who this is?’ she asked.

  Merren frowned. ‘Ah, yeah, of course.’

  But her mother was shaking her head. ‘This is Bianca Graves. You’ve brought Bianca Graves to my house.’ Her eyes got even wider. ‘Unannounced.’

  Shrinking under her mother’s wild-eyed stare, Merren stumbled over an apology. ‘I didn’t plan it, Mum. She wanted to come here. She kind of insisted on it, actually.’ Merren was talking in a rushed whisper. ‘And she hasn’t been out much lately.’ She blinked. ‘Or at all.’

  But her mother wasn’t getting with the programme very quickly. ‘It’s Bianca Graves,’ she repeated, insistently.

  ‘You’re a fan?’

  Finally, Merren seemed to have hit the nail on the head. Her mother’s eyes rolled heavenwards, then zeroed in on her daughter again. ‘She’s amazing.’ A hand waved in the air, knocked a packet of cornflour from the shelf. Olivia simply caught it and put it back.

  ‘It’s Bianca Graves,’ she said again. ‘Her work is magnificent.’

  Merren looked dubiously at her mother. She’d not seen her like this before, all a-fluster, practically fan-girling right there in the pantry of her kitchen.

  ‘Are you going to be okay talking to her? She really wanted to come here for some reason.’

  Olivia clutched at Merren’s arm, pressing hard enough to leave finger marks. Then abruptly she let go and dragged her fingers through her hair instead. ‘I can’t believe she’s going blind,’ she said. ‘It’s a terrible tragedy.’

  ‘Mum, careful. She’ll hear you.’ In fact, Merren had had enough of the closeted conversation.

  ‘Are you going to pull yourself together, Mum, or do you need to excuse yourself from the room?’ She couldn’t help a slight giggle at the tone of her own voice.

  Olivia gave her an offended look and pushed past her, snatching a cannister of tea from the shelf as she went.

  Merren took that as a yes.

  Bianca was sitting at the table in the window, the sun dappled on her face, her shoulders relaxed, arms for once not wrapped protectively around her waist. Merren breathed in, held her breath until the count of three, then let it out, willing her own tension to leave her. She couldn’t get what had happened back there in the car out of her mind.

  Shaking her head, she told herself she had to. Right now, anyway. She could relive it later, if she wanted. Swallowing, she thought she probably would. Several times.

  Another deep breath, and she stepped out of the cupboard, checked on her mother, who bustled about getting tea and cake, cheeks flushed an excited pink.

  ‘Can I help?’ she asked her.

  Olivia shook her head, then pushed the tray of cups towards her. ‘Take those.’

  ‘Sure.’ A sideways glance at her mother, then Merren picked up the tray and took it over to the little tea table, set out the cups and saucers. They were the ones with the trailing vines of honeysuckle. Her mouth automatically watered. Olivia always chose the crockery to match her baking. Merren went back for the teapot.

  ‘I’ll bring the cake,’ her mother hissed.

  Merren held up her hands. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But I’ve never dropped a cake yet.’

  She watched her mother’s face redden, then relax into a smile. ‘Touché,’ she said. ‘I’m just excited. Your old mum can get excited every now and then, you know.’

  ‘Apparently so,’ Merren grinned, and went to take her place at the table.

  ‘Merren,’ Bianca said. ‘Your grandmother has been telling me about you and your brother and sister.’

  Merren narrowed her eyes at her grandmother, who smiled beatifically back at her. ‘Has she indeed?’ A thought struck her. ‘Oh god, please not the story about the purple thumb.’

  ‘Purple thumb?’ Bianca turned her head from Merren to her grandmother. ‘No, not at all – but I have to say, that sounds rather intriguing, now you’ve mentioned it.’

  ‘Nope.’ Merren shook her head. ‘Not remotely interesting, just a silly little story my dear mother and grandmother usually pull out to showcase how odd I am.’

  That made Bianca laugh, and Merren grinned despite herself. The laughter was spontaneous. Bianca Graves was actually having a good time.

  ‘I want to hear it,’ she said.

  ‘Not from my lips, you won’t,’ Merren said. ‘And besides, now that there’s been all this build-up the story will seem even more lame than it actually is.’

  ‘Tell me anyway.’ Bianca’s smile was radiant. Everything about her shone.

  ‘I’ll tell you,’ Olivia said, coming over with the cake on her best cake stand.

  Bianca put up a hand. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘What is that?’

  Olivia looked down at her handiwork. ‘It’s a green tea and honeysuckle cake.’

  Merren had been right about the choice of chinaware. She wondered if her mother had looked at the cups and saucers and designed the cake to go with them, or if it happened to just be a serendipitous occurrence. She suspected the former.

  ‘A what?’ Bianca put her hand on her chest and breathed in. ‘It smells amazing.’

  ‘Green tea and honeysuckle. The honeysuckle is a glaze made from orange and honey, and I’ve changed the traditional recipe of the cake to be grain-free.’ She put it down on the table and sliced into it with the cake knife. ‘The sugar is coconut sugar as well. Much better for you.’

  Bianca was slowly shaking her head. ‘It smells heavenly. I’ve never smelt anything like it.’ She gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘I’ve been smelling everything today like I’ve been reborn, or something.’

  ‘Your other senses are blossoming,’ Naomi said. ‘The eyesight dims, the sense of smell and touch heighten.’

  There was silence around the table for a moment. Bianca touched her eyes. Nodded.

  ‘I guess there’s no hiding it, is there?’ She squirmed in her chair. ‘Not that I was, but still.’

  Olivia resumed cutting the cake. She lifted delicate slices onto the plates and slid one in front of Bianca. ‘How long has it been going on?’ she asked.

  Merren looked quickly at Bianca to see if the question was too intrusive. She cast around for something to change the subject.

  But Bianca was holding her head up, tipped slightly to the side in that way that Merren decided she was already half in love with. Merren looked down at the tablecloth and closed her eyes, her hands shaking slightly.

  ‘Now tha
t I know what was happening,’ Bianca said, ‘I realise my vision has been slowly deteriorating over the last year.’ She drew slightly in on herself. ‘But I just thought hey, I need a new prescription, and never got around to doing anything about it. The way you do. Or don’t, rather.’

  Merren looked up again, watching Bianca talk. There was a magnolia tree outside the kitchen window, and it filtered the sun through it, casting a dappled light over the woman opposite her, like lace on her skin. It made her look exotic, and very, very desirable.

  Her mouth suddenly dry, Merren shook herself and reached for the teapot, but her mother patted her hand away, did it herself, nodding along as Bianca spoke. Merin grasped her cup and sucked at the liquid.

  ‘Then, during the autumn,’ Bianca was saying, ‘it got suddenly worse.’ She lifted a hand and waved it in front of her eyes. ‘I developed these dark spots in my vision. The blood vessels have burst, and I can’t see straight ahead anymore.’ She pressed her lips together, then gave a shrug. ‘I still have some peripheral vision, but even that is blurred, and there’s barely any colour to it anymore.’

  Merren hadn’t known that.

  Olivia placed a hand on Bianca’s shoulder. Left it there for a moment, then took her seat. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that, Bianca,’ she said. ‘I can only imagine how difficult the last months have been for you.’

  Bianca gave a small nod.

  ‘Are you still painting?’ This question came from Naomi, and Merren turned to stare at her grandmother.

  ‘Bianca’s coming up with new ways she can continue painting, aren’t you, Bianca?’ she said, nodding, sounding positive.

  ‘Yes,’ Bianca said. ‘Trying to, anyway.’ She found the fork on the plate with her piece of cake on it and picked it up, holding it tight in her fingers.

  ‘There’s no way you can give up painting,’ Olivia said.

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Well, it’s true, love.’ Merren’s mother looked back at Bianca. ‘I’ve followed your work since you started out. I absolutely love it. We have to find a way you can continue.’ She paused. ‘I know it can’t be the same as it was, but there’s no way you can’t paint.’

  ‘There are other blind painters,’ Naomi pitched in.

  ‘There are?’ Bianca shook her head. ‘I mean, I know there are, but I’ve never paid any attention to them, at least not to any techniques they might use.’

  Olivia jumped in. ‘We’ll help you,’ she said, and pointed at her daughter. ‘Merren is an excellent researcher. She can find out how others have done it.’

  ‘I can?’ Merren asked, then cleared her throat. ‘I can,’ she said.

  Bianca dug her fork into the cake and broke a piece off. ‘This morning – before we set out, I stepped outside the front door, which is something I haven’t done enough of lately.’ She winced. ‘But anyway, I stepped out and the scent of the flowers almost bowled me over. Daisies and grass and sunshine. It surrounded me like it was so much more than just a smell.’ She paused, blinked. ‘My point is, I had a glimpse then of what I could paint, if I can manage the technical aspect of it.’

  Olivia clapped her hands. ‘That’s the biggest thing right there,’ she said. ‘The rest just needs to be figured out.’

  Merren looked bemusedly from her mother to her grandmother. They were both smiling widely, delighted. Even Bianca looked more vibrant than she had that morning. Much more so.

  ‘All right, then,’ Naomi said. ‘Are you going to need to adjust your studio space? And if so, how?’

  There was a touch on Merren’s knee, and she almost jumped out of her seat. But Bianca’s hand just squeezed her briefly then withdrew. Bianca was leaning forward, fork in one hand, face alight.

  ‘My main issue,’ she said, ‘is lighting, and translating distance and perspective to a canvas when I can’t clearly see it. That’s not impossible to overcome, I’m sure, but it does make it tough to start with.’

  ‘Lighting should be easy enough,’ Naomi said. ‘Do you have spotlights, or anything? You’re planning to use a model I take it?’

  ‘Merren, yes,’ Bianca said, and turned her face towards where Merren sat next to her. She smiled. ‘And I have lights. I’m going to have Merren move them inside into one of the rooms in my house – my studio is a conservatory, which means I can’t control the light enough, with all those windows. But I’ll be able to in one of the spare bedrooms.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Olivia said, and Merren’s head swam.

  Then she had a thought. ‘What about if you did it life-size?’ she asked.

  Bianca put her fork down. So far, she hadn’t managed a single bite of the cake. None of them had. The conversation had all their attention.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

  Merren tapped a finger on the table. ‘Well, if perspective and such is an issue for the moment, why not side-step it? Do it life-size? Unless I’m not thinking it through properly, won’t you be able to take measurements – from me, I guess – and translate them to the paper or canvas or whatever you use? Just do it directly, and go with that? At least to begin with.’

  Everyone fell silent, brows furrowed. Bianca’s fine skin was like down in the soft light. Merren wanted to reach out and touch it. Stroke a finger down her cheek.

  And when she thought of Bianca having to take measurements, her long-fingered hands touching her, she shivered as though she had a fever.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bianca leaned her head against the door of the car pretty much all the way home, knowing that Merren was shooting her concerned glances every five minutes.

  ‘I’m all right,’ she said at last. ‘I’m just tired.’ She gave a wan but genuine smile. ‘I haven’t been out having a good time for months, remember. It’s taken it out of me.’

  ‘You had a good time, though?’

  She heard the worry in the young woman’s voice and felt it almost like a caress. Merren touched her. In more ways than one, she remembered, thinking about the little scene they’d shared in the car outside Olivia’s house.

  ‘I had a brilliant time,’ she said. ‘I really did. Your mother and grandmother are wonderful.’ She grinned out the window. ‘Just like I thought they would be.’

  ‘They weren’t just a teensy bit…enthusiastic?’

  Bianca shook her head. ‘They were just right. What would be better? People who dive deep into embarrassment and gloom over the fact that I can’t see well anymore?’ No. It had gone well. ‘They were just the tonic I needed.’ She leaned towards Merren and touched her arm lightly, saw the haze of Merren’s face turn towards her. ‘Thank you,’ she smiled. ‘For taking me out in the first place, and then indulging me when I said I wanted to meet your family.’

  Merren’s head moved, and Bianca guessed she was nodding. Merren cleared her throat. ‘Did you, ah, learn anything intimate?’

  Bianca dropped her arm and laughed. Honestly, Merren was adorable. More than that, really, she was warm and smart and sexy.

  Especially maybe, the sexy part. Bianca sucked in a deep breath. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘I think so. I think we both did.’ She wet her lips and felt the afternoon sun slanting in through the window to smooth itself gently over her skin. She was getting used to the quiet of the car, and now it felt more like a warm cocoon than a moving vehicle.

  There was no reply. At least, not straight away.

  ‘About that,’ Merren said. ‘About what happened in the car…’

  Bianca shook her head. ‘Don’t spoil it,’ she said, interrupting. ‘It was nice. More than nice.’ She clasped her hands together, still feeling Merren’s touch on them, the way she’d taken her hand and held it. Not to guide her or anything, but simply to touch her, to feel her hand in hers.

  They’d almost kissed. Bianca lifted a hand to her mouth, pressed her fingers against her lips. They had been close, their heads together in the car, Bianca able to feel Merren’s warm breath on the sensitive skin under her ear, listening to the sound of her breathing,
hearing the beating of her own heart, the rising tide of blood between her ears. She closed her eyes. Yes, it had been close, they’d almost kissed, but at the last moment – moved apart.

  ‘I didn’t mean to take advantage,’ Merren said anyway.

  That made Bianca laugh. ‘In no way were you taking advantage of me. And believe me, when we do finally kiss, it will be a most mutual event.’

  There was silence at that. It stretched out for what must have been at least a full minute. Maybe two.

  ‘When?’

  Bianca felt her face crease back into a smile. This outing had been exactly what she needed. After months of wandering blind and desperate around the rooms of her house, she was out in the sunlight, finding that the old version of her was still about.

  ‘If,’ she amended.

  ‘Ah, no,’ Merren said, and she sounded both amused and uncertain. ‘No, I do believe it’s too late to change it now.’

  Bianca laughed. ‘Why, is there a ten second rule about this as well, that I don’t know about?’

  ‘A ten second rule?’ Merren’s voice was puzzled. Oh,’ she said, understanding dawning. ‘You mean like if you drop some food on the floor.’ She laughed, and it was just as rich and good to listen to as it had been earlier in the day. Bianca waded into the sound and bathed in it.

  ‘Is there anything else you want to do today?’ Merren asked when her laughter had dribbled away to a few giggles then finally subsided. ‘Consider me your chauffeur for the afternoon. I am at your disposal.’ There was the sound of the car’s indicator and they turned into another road. ‘We’re coming up to a supermarket, if you need anything.’

  Glancing over her shoulder into the back seat even though she couldn’t see anything, Bianca shook her head. ‘I don’t think I’m going to have to buy any food for a week at least.’

  ‘Yeah. Mum went a bit overboard.’

  ‘Oh, no she didn’t. That woman can cook. I’m going to eat every crumb. You have no idea how deprived I’ve been the last wee while.’ They’d ended up eating the green tea and honeysuckle cake and it had been every bit as divine as it sounded. The other half of it was packed into a container sitting right behind her on the back seat. It was going home with her, express orders of Olivia Hardy. Along with its container-mates of date and walnut bread, some sort of pie, and a casserole straight out of Olivia’s refrigerator that came with precise instructions for reheating. It made Bianca’s mouth water just thinking about the feast she could have if she wanted to.