by Ana McKenzie
‘Art.’ Bianca walked around the room, her fingers trailing along the walls. ‘You know before you start out that it’s not going to be as good as you want it to be – ever. You’re never going to capture it properly, whatever it is.’ She stopped and turned around, face high, the light shining gently on her skin like a benediction. Merren thought she’d never looked more beautiful.
Another sigh. Then a smile. ‘But you do it anyway,’ Bianca said. ‘You do it because you can’t see any other way to live your life, and you do it on faith. Always on faith.’
‘We all live our lives on faith,’ Merren said, falling in love with the beauty of the truth Bianca was telling. And her exquisite features.
Bianca nodded. ‘True. And nor do we have any choice but to. We always hope that tomorrow will be a bit better than today, that it will all be worth it in the long run. That it all means something. That we’ll figure out the missing bits of our lives and find the pieces to fill them.’ Bianca stopped talking, knotted her hands together and looked nonplussed.
Merren breathed in, then out, making it measured, calm. Then she swallowed and looked at the boxes of art supplies. ‘So, let’s start with what we have here,’ she said at last. ‘That’s how I always do it – take stock of what I have, where I am, and from there, the next step is usually pretty obvious.’
That made Bianca smile, and she wandered over to where Merren stood and tucked herself into Merren’s side, leaning her head against hers.
‘Well,’ Bianca said. ‘I’m here, lucky enough to have found you, and I have the will, the experience, and the tools, right?’
‘And the faith,’ Merren added. ‘You have that too.’
A nod, Bianca’s hair tickling Merren’s neck. ‘I have the faith. That I can fill some of the missing bits of my life.’
Merren kissed her. ‘I’ll go get the table.’
‘Okay. I’ll be here. The studio key is on the table by the front door.’
Merren jogged down the stairs, snagged the key and let herself out into the sunshine. It had rained sometime during the night and the early sun had the ground steaming gently. She blinked in the light and breathed deeply, trying to smell the grass, the flowers, the night’s rain, just like Bianca had the day before. They smelled earthy, of minerals and metals and dampness. Merren decided she liked it.
‘So, she took my advice then.’
Merren looked up, startled. ‘Hey,’ she said and squinted, trying to remember the girl’s name. ‘Rita, isn’t it?’
The girl hopped down from the brick wall where she’d been perched like some exotic bird and sauntered over, sticking her hand out for Merren to shake. Which she did, rather bemused.
‘What advice was that, then?’ Merren asked.
Rita pulled a bright pink lollypop from her mouth and considered it for a moment before returning it to the same spot. ‘Sleeping with you,’ she said.
‘Ah.’ Now Merren recalled the rest of it. ‘Yes, Bianca did mention you’d told her it would be good for her.’ She walked along the path towards the studio. ‘Cheers for that, by the way.’
The girl shrugged. ‘You’re welcome. Although I said so for Bianca, not for you.’
‘All the same.’ Merren grinned. ‘Thanks.’ She bounced the studio key in her hand. ‘You’ve been helping Bianca with her shopping and things, haven’t you?’
‘Yup. Someone had to. Me and Mum, we’ve been getting her groceries for her. Bianca’s real cool.’
Merren poked the key into the lock and leaned against the studio door for a moment. ‘I’m glad,’ she said. ‘It’s gotta be tough.’
‘Ya think?’ Rita blinked at her. ‘For sure, I’d say.’ She plucked the lollypop out of her mouth and looked seriously at Merren. ‘So, what do you do anyway? You can’t just be an artist’s model.’ She put the lollypop back in her mouth. ‘Actually, I know you’re not. I’m being disingenuous.’
Merren raised an eyebrow at the big word. ‘You are?’
‘Yeah. I looked you up online when Bianca told me your name.’ Wide amber eyes blinked at her. ‘In Bianca’s interests, of course. You understand.’
‘I do,’ Merren said, nodding, smiling to herself. ‘I’d do just the same, in your position.’
‘I’m trusted, ya know?’ Rita said with a sniff. ‘Bianca relies on me.’
‘Cool,’ Merren said. ‘So, what did you find?’
The girl narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m thinking you can guess.’
That made Merren laugh. ‘I dunno,’ she said. ‘Been a while since I Googled myself.’
Rita gave her an affronted look. ‘I don’t use Google.’ Her face settled back down to suck on the lollypop. ‘I use the one that plants trees with their profits.’
‘Ah. Ecosia. Excellent. You have a social conscience, I take it?’
The offended look was back. ‘Of course. I don’t want the world to completely break down before I’ve even had a chance to enjoy it.’
‘With you there, kid,’ Merren said and pushed the studio door open. ‘It’s going to be hit and miss for a while though, I reckon.’
‘Yeah. You’re doing…shit. What a mess.’
It was, and Merren shook her head.
‘Shit indeed,’ she whispered, tears springing from nowhere to wet her eyes. She blinked them back.
The studio was trashed. Paint tubes strewn everywhere, and sketch paper, and broken twigs of pastels.
‘You’re not going to hurt her, are you?’ Rita demanded suddenly.
‘No,’ Merren said, her knees going weak as she took in the mess of Bianca’s breakdown. ‘I want to help her.’
But Rita apparently wasn’t satisfied by that. She grabbed Merren’s sleeve. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m really serious. You’re not going to hurt her, are you, if she falls in love with you?’
‘Jeeze kid,’ Merren said, embarrassed, wiping palms that were suddenly sweating on the thighs of her jeans, and peeling her eyes from the mess in the room to look at the girl standing beside her. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘She’s been lonely a real long time. And you’re a cool person. It seems inevitable. That she’ll fall for you, I mean. What’s not inevitable is if you’ll hurt her. I mean, you could fall in love with her too – that would be best. Otherwise, I guess it could get awkward, which is why you have to promise me you won’t hurt her.’
Merren shook her head. ‘Help me clear off this table, will you? I need to take it inside.’ She walked unsteadily over to the folding table and picked up a handful of paintbrushes, looked around for somewhere to put them.
‘If I’m a cool person, then you know I’ll do my best not to hurt her,’ she said as Rita joined her in putting things away. She winced at her own sudden thought that it might be more likely to happen the other way around. That she might end up the one hurt. She picked up some paints in a shaking hand.
‘Touché,’ Rita said.
Merren forced herself to focus on Bianca’s neighbour and tried a laugh. ‘Where’d you learn a word like that?’
The girl gave her a frosty glance. ‘I read,’ she said. ‘I’m not just big tits. I’ve got a brain, you know.’
‘So I gather,’ Merren said, genuinely amused now.
‘I mean, I dumb myself down a bit, for you know, every day consumption, but I’m smart really.’
‘Well, do yourself a solid and don’t bother with the dumbing down,’ Merren told her. ‘Society is going to try to do that enough to you anyway – especially with your other, ah, assets. Just be brazenly smart. We need you sharp as a knife.’
The table was clear, if not clean. Its surface was stippled with a rainbow of smeared oil paints.
Rita was nodding. ‘That’s cool. Okay.’ Merren looked at her and smiled at the way the girl stood up straighter.
‘You’re speaking at the next council meeting, right? With the mayor?’ Rita asked as Merren struggled to get the table folded.
‘Yup, why?’
‘I don’t know. Do yo
u need to buy tickets or anything to go along? I mean, is it even open to the public? I thought I might go along?’
There were two metal pins stopping the table from collapsing, and Merren pulled them out, handed them to Rita to hold and got the table folded up. It was surprisingly heavy.
‘Sure,’ she said, carting the table towards the door and turning to take the pins from Rita. ‘I’ll be speaking during the public part, but you don’t need a ticket or anything. Just turn up and find a seat.’
‘Awesome,’ the girl said happily. ‘That’s terrific. I’ll ask Mum if I can go. She won’t want to, but I can ride my bike.’
Merren got a better grip on the table and hoisted it up. ‘I’ll look for you there. I’d offer you a lift, but I have to get along early,’ she said. ‘And in the meantime, I’d better get this thing inside.’
She got a grin in return and watched as Rita bounced off, scrabbling up and over the brick wall. Shaking her head, she made for the house, hurrying back towards Bianca.
Don’t hurt her, Rita had said.
That wasn’t going to be a problem, Merren decided. She’d much rather make the woman happy.
Then she thought about Rita’s other declaration. You could fall in love with her too, she’d said. That would be best.
The idea made Merren’s face grow warm. And the sunlight seemed suddenly to sink into her like liquid gold.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The colours were back, lurking in the little slice of vision Bianca had left, bright streaks and hovering shapes. It was odd, she decided, head cocked, watching them like they were real – these were bright and vivid, whereas actual things with actual colours were dull, almost listless.
Still, she supposed, dipping into the box again with a shudder, it could all be worse. She could be hallucinating far more terrible things than a bunch of swirling colours, or so the doctor had made it sound. He’d talked like she should be seeing spooks in every corner.
She had enough spooks with Bess gone to be seeing hallucinatory ones. Bess at least, was an old sorrow. Her memory almost a sweet, sad ache now, instead of the sharp needle of loss it was for so much of those first years without her.
Why was she thinking about Bess like this these days? She shifted on her knees and drew out another package. It must be the room, she decided. Being in it again after all this time.
It felt like a box of tissues, and she pressed her fingers along the perforations on the top, fully expecting tissues. But a wiggle of her fingers inside the box told her it wasn’t, and she pulled out something flaccid, rubbery.
Gloves. Lips pursed, she considered them. She guessed they made sense if she was going to use the oil sticks. Gloves would be even more important than they were when she used brushes.
So many things to get used to. She hated change. Had ever since Bess died. Now everything was change and she felt old, scared.
Except when she was with Merren. Being with Merren made her feel real when otherwise she thought she might just be fading into the darkness of her own vision. Merren was warm and so very solid.
And ever so delicious in bed. God, it had been so long since she’d been intimate with anyone.
It was just what she needed right now.
‘What are you sitting there smiling about?’
She turned her face towards Merren’s voice and touched her own face in surprise. She’d been smiling? ‘Nothing in particular,’ she lied.
Merren swam closer in her vision, accompanied by bright blue streaks. Why were they always blue around Merren? Blue with a few bits of pink.
‘Find anything interesting in here?’ Merren asked. ‘I’ve got the table for you. I’ll set it up, grab the lights.’
Bianca leaned toward her. ‘It’s like a lucky dip, this box.’
‘What’s a lucky dip?’
‘What?’ Bianca was incredulous. ‘You don’t know what a lucky dip is?’
‘Well, I can probably guess, but why don’t you tell me?’
Bianca laughed. ‘It’s exactly what it sounds like. But when I was a kid, the local department store…’
‘Wait!’ Merren’s voice was teasing. ‘There were still department stores when you were a kid? They hadn’t been transformed into Starbucks?’
Bianca poked at her with an elbow. ‘Cheeky girl,’ she said. ‘Yes, there were, and at Christmas time, they’d have two boxes with mystery gifts wrapped up in them. One box for girls and one box for boys. I always badgered my mother to get me one of the lucky dip presents.’
‘One for girls and one for boys?’
‘Yep. I don’t know what was in the boys, because I was an only child, but the girl’s ones were mostly things like boxes of crayons, and doll’s clothes, plastic jewellery sets. Nothing much, but it was fun just because you didn’t know what you were getting.’
‘Besides the rigid gender conditioning, it does sound fun.’ Merren jumped up again. ‘You continue with your lucky dip, and I’ll get the lights. Then the fun can really begin.’
She was out the door in a flash, and Bianca smiled after her, a fluttering sensation deep in her belly. She pressed a hand to it, not knowing if it was Merren who had caused the excited nervousness, or the prospect of trying to paint again at long last.
Maybe, she decided, it was both.
She was grappling with one of the big rolls when Merren reappeared, her presence announced by her footsteps and a great deal of huffing and puffing.
‘These lights are heavy.’
Bianca nodded. ‘What are these?’ she asked, and that tickling in her stomach was back. Merren’s voice had made it happen.
But the puzzle of the giant rolls itched at her too.
Merren came over and touched her, ran a light hand up her back. Bianca straightened and leaned into it.
‘It is a roll of…’ She felt Merren bend over to read something. The label, probably. ‘Primed linen canvas. Ideal for artists who stretch their own canvases or who work large scale.’ A pause, and Merren’s hand rubbed her back. ‘Sounds useful, right?’
Bianca nodded. ‘There’s another one too, what’s that one?’ She pointed in the direction of the second roll. They were both heavy. Goodness knows how many meters they both were.
‘Let’s see. This one is primed cotton. That helpful?’
‘Yes,’ Bianca said, feeling a bigger stir of excitement. ‘In fact, let’s start with that one.’
‘Sure,’ and Merren’s hand left her back to dig in a pocket. She drew something out and crossed the few steps to the roll of cotton canvas.
‘It’s primed already, did you say?’ Bianca asked.
‘Yep. That’s what it says.’
‘Good.’ Thank goodness. Merren had done well to choose it already primed. ‘How did you know to get these?’ she asked, considering the question for the first time.
‘I didn’t,’ Merren said, and there was the sound of plastic wrapping being torn. ‘I was doing some work in a group when you called, so we did some impromptu research, made a list, and sent it to the art supply shop on Filleul Street. The people there did the rest.’
‘Huh. Wow. Thanks. I really owe you.’ Bianca felt the smile growing on her face, and her heart lifted. ‘Thank you for doing that for me.’
Merren came back to her side. ‘You’re more than welcome. I hope there’s everything you need – but if there isn’t, it’s a super simple matter to pick it up for you.’
Bianca nodded. ‘With the canvas, and the oil sticks, there’s nothing much to stop me from giving it a go.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Ah,’ she breathed out. ‘I’m terrified.’
‘Nah,’ Merren said. ‘It’ll be fine. Long as you let yourself play. Don’t psyche yourself out. You’re just having a go, remember. Experimenting.’
Bianca nodded, keeping a tight grip on the little voice in her head that said she could do this. It was a golden thread in the darkness, that voice, and she held on to it like a lifeline.
‘I can do this,’ she wh
ispered.
A kiss dropped on her forehead. ‘Yup. Do you need your easel? I haven’t got that yet.’
A moment’s thought, and Bianca shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I think the best idea will be to cut a length of the canvas and fasten it to the wall somehow. Do you think that will be possible?’
‘Bound to be,’ Merren replied, and left her side to rummage in the box. ‘Ha, look,’ she said. ‘We even have scissors to cut it with.’ Her voice muffled as she dipped back in the box. ‘Here’s some heavy-duty tape, that’s bound to work, wouldn’t you say?’
Bianca had no idea, and she tried to loosen the knot of her hands, shaking them out and willing herself to relax.
Merren answered for her. ‘I bet it will, and we have some silicone adhesive too, which you’ll be able to use directly on the canvas.’
‘What for?’ Bianca asked, aware of her heart beating too fast again.
‘For measuring, remember? You were going to map out the main points of the body, or something, I think. You know – where waist, hips, shoulders are and all that stuff.’
Right. That was right. Bianca swallowed, and her throat worked, clicking dryly. There was a rushing roar in her ears. ‘Merren?’ she said weakly. ‘Merren, I don’t feel good.’ Her vision darkened further.
Merren was there in a quick moment, her hands strong and sure on Bianca, an arm around her, and a palm pressed reassuringly to her breastbone. She closed her eyes and leaned against it, a whimper sticking deep in her throat.
‘Hey,’ Merren soothed. ‘It’s all right. Just concentrate on breathing, nice and slow. Deep easy breaths.’
Bianca tried to do as she was told. ‘What’s wrong with me?’ she gasped.
‘It’s a little panic attack, that’s all. You’ll be fine in a moment. Just breathe nice and slow. That’s it, you’re doing great.’
Bianca leaned over and planted her hands on her knees, legs unsteady but holding her up. She breathed in, sucking air into her lungs through an airway that felt the size of a straw.
‘Don’t hold your breath. Let it out, nice and gentle.’
She didn’t know she’d been holding her breath. The room swam around her, a dark, shadowed hole into which she was tumbling. She stumbled, flinging a hand out to stop herself from falling. It was snatched up in Merren’s and the arm around her waist tightened.