Page 8 of The House on Waterfall Hill

So she moved forward and waved her arm around tomake sure the space was empty and there was still no noise or any evidence that someone was there.

‘What are you doing?’ came Luke’s voice from behind her.

She whirled round with her hand still over her eyes and felt her other hand smash into his stomach.

‘Ooof.’

‘Sorry.’

She risked a peep through her fingers to see him doubled over, but at least he was fully clothed this time.

‘I’m so sorry, I was just checking to see if anyone was in the bathroom. I didn’t want to see you naked again.’

He straightened, rubbing his stomach gingerly. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, she wondered if he wore contact lenses or maybe they were just reading glasses. She tried to decide whether he was sexier with or without them and decided they both had their merits.

‘It’s OK.’ His voice was strained. ‘I just got back from a run and when I came in I saw you flapping your arms around in here, I thought it was some kind of weird dance. I’m also very glad I wasn’t naked and on the receiving end of your flailing arms. I might have lost the ability to have children for good. But, just so you know, there is a lock on the bathroom door which I always use so with any luck you won’t be seeing me naked ever again. Well unless…’ he trailed off.

‘Unless?’

‘Well unless we’re both naked,’ he blushed furiously.

‘Why would we both be naked?’

‘Just forget I said anything. There won’t be any more nakedness. Ever.’

She smirked as she realised what he’d been trying not to say. Enjoying his embarrassment, she decided to push it. ‘You mean, mutually agreed nakedness.’

‘I was just trying to cover all eventualities, but obviouslythatisn’t going to happen. And I don’t want it to.Thatisn’t even on the table. I don’t mean that we’d be doing it on the table. Or anywhere. Or at all. Ever. Jesus, I don’t want to have sex with you. I have no idea why I said that about us both being naked. Can we just store that in the “never happened” box along with you walking in on me naked and me examining my penis in the mirror? Christ, why am I bringing that up again?’

Flick stared at him and burst out laughing. ‘Oh, I’m going to like being friends with you. Completely platonic, non-naked friends who definitely won’t be having sex ever.’

He flushed again and rolled his eyes. ‘You can see why I’m single.’

‘You’re fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to have a shower, I will be locking the door so there won’t be any more accidental nakedness and then you can help me face the troops.’

‘Well, I have to have a shower too. Alone and behind locked doors. But then I’ll be ready to help you.’

She smiled and closed the door, shaking her head. There was something so damned likeable about Luke Donnelly.

Flick made her way downstairs and started walking round the different rooms before the artists arrived. It had been a while since she’d been here but not a lot had changed. Same layout, same decor, even the threadbare carpet and rugs in the halls were the same. But now she was trying to look at it all through the eyes of potential customers.

The house had a kind of open-plan feel in that none of the individual shops or artists’ rooms had doors, windows or walls to separate them from the rest of the house. There were just rooms, open spaces or tucked-away nooks where the artists had taken up residence.

In one room, there were beautifully embroidered quilts of various sizes and colours. The work was exquisite, not just the sewing and quilting, but the beautifully embroidered flowers, birds and animals too. But apart from two or three hanging on the walls, they weren’t displayed nicely at all. There was a pile of them on the table and another pile on the floor. One work-in-progress was laid out on a large desk.

There were prices on the two quilts on the wall but none on any of the others. Flick knew how some people hated asking how much something was and would rather walk out than bother someone for a price. Although the old adage of ‘If you have to ask you probably can’t afford it’ was probably true judging by the prices of the two on the walls. She had no doubt that the quilts on the wall had taken many days or even weeks tofinish and that they were almost certainly worth the exorbitant price tag, but who could afford to buy something like that? Judging by the huge piles of quilts stacked up around the room, Ethel, the quilting artist, hadn’t sold one for a very long time. There had to be some middle ground here. Flick didn’t want to undersell what her work was worth but she somehow had to appeal to the average person. Ethel was clearly good at embroidery as well as quilting, perhaps she could make some very small, embroidered items to sell alongside the quilts like cushion covers or brooches.

Flick wandered down the hall to what was Aidan, the potter’s, room. There were no plates, bowls or cups in here though. The room was filled with beautiful clay sculptures of various sizes, none of which had been made in moulds, all one-off, unique creations, although there were a lot of dragons. In fact probably seventy-five percent of the stock, if not more, were dragons which would have been perfect if a customer loved dragons, but there wasn’t a lot of choice for those non-dragon-loving customers. She looked at the price tag of one of the medium-sized dragons and winced. She really was going to struggle to get the artists on side with offering cheaper products.

The next room was filled with gorgeous mosaics. Boats, sunsets, animals, famous landmarks all depicted with beautiful jewel-coloured bits of tile or glass. The room sparkled and gleamed as the mosaics caught the sunshine streaming through the windows. Every mosaic was displayed beautifully in here too, the perfect placeto catch the sun. They were all priced clearly as well, Katherine had done a superb job with her presentation, but again a quick look at the prices showed the average person wouldn’t be able to buy them, no matter how well the store was presented.

Flick moved to the next room which was where Rose did her paintings. It was clear she had an exceptional talent, especially for different landscapes. They were beautifully detailed, capturing the colours of nature so perfectly some of them could easily be mistaken for photos. There were a few paintings of dogs too. But the cheapest painting she could find was over eight hundred pounds, while the others were well into the thousands.

She wandered back out into the hall. Apart from Luke’s studio space at the front of the house there were no other shops and there was still so much space that could be filled with other artists, two areas on this floor and a whole floor above them that was empty. Maybe more artists selling different and unusual wares would attract more people to the studios. She also wondered if reopening the café would be a viable option. Her nan had told her she could do whatever she wanted in the six months, but opening a café and then leaving again once her nan came home might be an unwelcome burden for her nan. Though if she could get someone to run that side of things then maybe her nan wouldn’t see it as a burden at all, especially if it was doing well.

Flick walked down the hall to Luke’s studio to find he was already there tweaking a life-size wooden carving of a great stag. The detail was incredible, thefine lines of fur, the velvet of the antlers, even the eyes looked real and alert.

‘This is beautiful.’

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