Page 14 of Healing Hearts on Thistledown Lane: Part 1
Sharon giggled and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘It’s just such a departure from what you usually make.’
Maura couldn’t argue with that. She puffed out a long breath and sat back on her chair. ‘It’s meant to be a ghost.’
‘Oh,’ Cordelia said, taking a step back to get a clearer perspective. ‘I thought perhaps a disembodied finger – wondered if you’d gone all Tate Modern on us.’
‘I’m thinking of a completely different body part,’ Effie declared. ‘It reminds me of my ex-husband. He leaned to the left as well.’
‘Too much information, Effie,’ Sharon said, wincing.
Maura groaned. She had over twenty years’ experience of working with clay, had made everything from an espresso cup to an intricate glazed sculpture that was currently on display in the Royal Botanic Garden. Surely she could design a ghost for Fraser that didn’t look as though it had escaped from a Soho sex shop. ‘Back to the drawing board,’ she said, reaching for more clay.
‘Is this your model?’ Effie asked, picking up the black ghost and smoothing her fingers across its matte surface.
‘That’s my starting point,’ Maura said. ‘A friend wants something he can sell on his ghost tour but obviously I don’t want to copy someone else’s idea.’
Cordelia looked thoughtful. ‘What about a different shape?’ she suggested. ‘MoreScooby-Doo, less Wyrd Willy.’
Sharon let out a snort of laughter and Maura couldn’t help grinning. She liked the name Wyrd Willy. Perhaps she wouldn’t squash her first effort flat and recycle the clay after all. ‘MoreScooby-Doo,’ she repeated, trying to recall the cartoon ghosts and monsters that had featured on the TV show. Without fail, they turned out to be crooks in complicated disguises, attempting to draw attention away from their dastardly schemes, but there had definitely been one or two villains who had favoured the simple sheet-over-the-head trick. Perhaps that was what Cordelia meant – a more obviously cartoonish ghost. Could that work? Would Fraser find it too childish? She could only try. Her plan had been to create a few prototypes to see which worked and which didn’t. At least she had eliminated one potential design early on.
Effie was studying her thoughtfully. ‘If your friend is planning to sell the ghosts, does that mean you’re going to be paid?’
‘Yes,’ Maura said. Although now she came to think of it, Fraser hadn’t actually mentioned money. ‘Maybe not for the initial models – these are just for me to establish the right shape and design.’
‘So you’re doing him a favour?’ Cordelia’s pale blue eyes were sharp, reminding Maura that she had been a highly successful CEO before a bout of ill health forced an early retirement. ‘I hope this friend is trustworthy.’
‘Of course he is,’ Maura replied, then hesitated. She’d instinctively liked Fraser. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might not be someone she could trust. ‘We went to the same school. And he bought one of my bowls. The most expensive one.’
Effie let out an impressed whistle but Cordelia pursed her lips. ‘Not exactly a watertight character reference but at least he’s splashed the cash. Does he have any idea whether this new product will actually sell?’
Here, Maura felt she was on firmer ground. She still remembered the rapt expressions of the audience as Fraser had woven his uncanny magic, and the way they’d hung around afterwards, like superfans at the stage door. She was sure she’d overheard one of the women asking for his autograph. When she’d got home, Maura had taken a look at the Dead Famous Tour website and had noted there was already a well-established online shop, although the merchandise was limited. If Fraser’s market research was to be believed, and the York ghost seller was as successful as he suggested, then there was no reason to think a range of Edinburgh ghosts would not sell, she had concluded. If she could settle on a design that both she and Fraser were happy with, that was. ‘He’s following a business model that has worked elsewhere and I think he has his head screwed on,’ Maura said, her doubts fading. She stood up and stretched. ‘Who’d like a cup of tea?’
By the time the kettle had boiled and tea was brewed to each student’s liking, they had all gone back to their places on the workbench, allowing Maura to consider her problem anew. The simplicity of a blatantly draped sheet intrigued her – instantly recognisable as a ghost but with a childlike appeal that belied its supernatural essence. Her thoughts circled back to the gruesome nature of the stories Fraser had told; she’d have to be careful not to make the design too cute. Absently, she reached for the clay and pulled some free, rolling it into a ball. Perhaps if she used something as a support, she might be able to drape the clay over the top to look like cloth…
Twenty minutes later, Maura had a shape she was not unhappy with. It wasn’t as elegant as the York phantom – the folds of clay were thick rather than emulating the clean flowing lines moulded by the slip case – but it was recognisably a ghost and substantially different from her reference point. Using a damp sponge, she smoothed the edges, flicking some into soft upward curves to create the illusion that the figure was hovering just above the ground. When at last she was satisfied, she used the end of a wooden paintbrush to create two empty eye sockets and sat back to admire her work.
‘Very nice,’ Effie said, glancing across from the jug she was coiling. ‘Not a hint of the erotic about that one.’
‘Thanks,’ Maura said. ‘I quite like him.’
‘Make sure you put your mark on it,’ Effie said, peering over the top of her glasses. ‘I know it’s only a prototype but it’s still your work.’
It was a good point, Maura thought. She had a specially designed stamp with her signature embossed upon it for her larger pieces but that wouldn’t work here. Lifting the ghost with care, she scratched her initials into the underside of a fold of clay. ‘Done,’ she said with satisfaction. ‘What else can I try?’
Sharon frowned thoughtfully. ‘What about adding some hands? Hidden underneath the sheet, I mean. A bit like the one from that kids’ film back in the day.’
‘Casper the Friendly Ghost,’ Effie supplied. ‘My daughter loved him.’
Immediately, Maura could picture the cheery cartoon character. It would mean a more rigid structure, she mused, taking up another ball of clay. And perhaps she could add a hidden foot beneath the folds of clay, to raise the figure up and enhance the impression that it was floating. She kept the rounded head but added a protruding bump to the right and left, as though the draped cloth was concealing two outstretched arms. The overall effect was different, perhaps a little too cutesy, but she had to concede it was also recognisably a ghost.
‘They’re great,’ Sharon said, when Maura placed them side by side on the shelf to dry. ‘I’d buy one.’
Effie winked. ‘You could use Wyrd Willy to tap into the hen do market. I bet he’d be popular – the ghost of boyfriends past.’
It was probably a genius idea but Maura doubted it would fit in with the overall Dead Famous vibe. ‘I don’t think I’ll suggest that to Fraser. That particular prototype is never leaving this studio.’
It wasn’t until her students were gone that Maura felt the inevitable creep of creative doubt. The ghosts were very different from the pieces she usually produced. What would Fraser think of them? Would he be offended that she’d listened to his spine-chilling tales and produced something less threatening, quite unlike the slip cast model he had given her? She supposed only time would tell; her efforts needed to dry, to be fired and glazed before they could be presented to Fraser, and that would take a few weeks. There was no point in fretting about his reaction until then. In fact, she told herself sternly as she wiped the workbench with damp yellow sponge, there was no point in fretting at all. If the ghosts weren’t what Fraser wanted, then she would simply go back to her usual work and have no reason to stay in touch with him. Given how much he seemed to be occupying her thoughts recently, perhaps that would be no bad thing.
Maura was weary by the time she locked the door to the studio and trudged upstairs to the flat that evening. She’d spent the afternoon working on a few pieces for the gallery show she was taking part in the following month, finishing up a leaf-shaped bowl inspired by a copper beech tree that grew in her parents’ garden. It wouldn’t be exclusively her work on display – the space would be shared with three other potters – but she wanted to supply the gallery with some larger items that would show her range, as well as hopefully tempt one or two buyers. The plant pot she’d made on New Year’s Day also needed to be glazed; it had sat on the bottom shelf in mute accusation for weeks and Maura found she couldn’t bear to neglect it any longer. On a whim, she decided to use a stencil and underglazes in various shades of green to create a rainforest effect. The finished design was bold and different but she liked it and she thought the gallery would too.
