Page 53 of Kate and Clara's Curious Cornish Craft Shop
‘I’m glad,’ Arty says. He looks through the glass into the shop. ‘Is she around? I’d love to see how she’s getting on.’
‘No, she’s not right now. Since I’ve been working here I’ve been paying one of the local girls to look after her in the afternoons, until she starts school, that is. It’s better than her being stuck in the shop with me all day.’
Arty nods. ‘Good, I’m pleased she’s getting out and about in the fresh air.’
‘I wouldn’t keep her cooped up in here all day if that’s what you’re suggesting?’ Clara says, bristling again.
‘No, not at all. I know she liked being out and about, that’s all. She told me.’
He wasn’t wrong, Maggie did prefer to be out in the fresh air rather than indoors, but Clara wasn’t going to admit he was right.
‘Well, she’s not here at the moment, so if there’s nothing else I have work to be getting on with.’
‘Sure,’ Arty says in his usual relaxed way. ‘So do I. I’m about to do some preliminary sketches for a commission I’ve been asked to paint.’
‘That’s good, what is it of?’
‘The town council have asked me to paint some canvases of St Felix, not only the usual pictures of the harbour and the sea but some of the other areas of the town too, including Harbour Street. So I guess you might be seeing quite a bit of me over the next few days …’
‘How lovely,’ Clara says brightly. ‘For you, that is,’ she adds as a sting in the tail.
‘I think so,’ Arty says, batting her insult away with ease. ‘I’ll look forward to sketching your little shop and you in due course.’
‘No, you’re not putting me in the picture,’ Clara protests. ‘Paint the shop all you like but I’m not to be in it, do you understand?’
Arty shrugs. ‘I was only joking. It’s the buildings they’re interested in anyway.’
‘Oh … good,’ Clara says, feeling a tad embarrassed that she’s overreacted. ‘That’s all right then.’
‘But you’d make a lovely subject if you did want to sit for a portrait,’ Arty offers. ‘Just let me know – any time. No charge. Although I’m not sure even I could do justice to your beautiful face.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ Clara says, her face, to her annoyance, blushing furiously.
‘You do that,’ Arty says. ‘Right, gotta go. See you around!’ He waves casually as he sets off down the street with his canvas bag slung across his shoulder carrying, Clara assumes, his sketching equipment.
‘Goodbye, Arthur,’ she says, and she gazes after his disappearing figure slightly longer than is absolutely necessary.
‘Mummy! Was that Arty?’ Clara hears Maggie call, and she turns around to see a young girl wearing one of her own pansy-patterned skirts with a matching bright purple tight-fitting blouse pushing her daughter along the cobbles in her wheelchair. ‘Did he come to see me?’
‘Hello, Babs,’ Clara says to the young girl. ‘Yes, darling,’ she says to Maggie. ‘He did ask after you.’
‘And what did you say?’ Maggie asks.
‘I told him you were doing very well with your painting. Is that another one?’
Maggie proudly holds a piece of what looks like wood in her hand. She passes it to Clara.
‘It’s very good,’ Clara says admiring it. ‘One of the fishing boats in the harbour, yes?’
Maggie nods. ‘Freddie helped me do it.’
‘Freddie?’ Clara asks, looking at Babs.
‘The old man that does the paintings from his cottage on the harbour,’ Babs explains. ‘Maggie loves going down there and watching him paint. Today he gave her some paint and let her join in. That is all right, isn’t it?’ Babs asks, looking a bit worried.
Clara nods. ‘Of course it is. I’m just happy you’re enjoying yourself, Maggie.’
‘I’d rather paint with Arty,’ Maggie grumbles. ‘Freddie is very kind, but Arty was much more fun.’
