Page 10 of Healing Hearts on Thistledown Lane: Part 1
‘Still, I bet it was a role you could really sink your teeth into,’ she said, and now it was Fraser’s turn to grin.
‘Literally,’ he said. ‘They treated me to a full Big Bang Bucket when we’d finished filming. I definitely got my teeth into that.’
Again, Maura laughed. ‘Sounds like it was worth the feather costume, then.’
He nodded. ‘It was. I still get the occasional royalty payment.’
Maura finished wrapping the bowl and folded the lid of the box closed. ‘That should be secure enough, as long as you don’t throw it down any stairs.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Fraser said, and when she looked a little alarmed, he went on. ‘It’s going in the car, and then into the flat. It should be safe enough.’
She relinquished her hold on the box. ‘Great. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you this but the bowl shouldn’t be used for food – the glaze is earthenware and purely decorative. And don’t put it in the dishwasher or the microwave.’
Fraser tried to imagine a situation when he might be tempted to put such a beautiful thing into the dishwasher and failed. But he supposed it was a fair enough warning; Maura didn’t really know him, after all. He might be a total heathen. ‘Noted,’ he said, and glanced around again. His eyes came to rest upon the shelves. ‘This isn’t all your work, is it? Some of it looks like your style but the rest…’
He trailed off, aware that there was a strong chance he might somehow insult her if he continued. What if he was wrong and the wonky mugs were hers? But thankfully, she understood what he was getting at. ‘No, it’s not all mine. I have a few amateur potters who come in and work in the studio each week. They tell me what they want to make, I give them a bit of advice – if they need it – and then I fire the pieces once they’re ready.’
He frowned. ‘Doesn’t that interfere with your own creative process?’
‘Not really,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘Most of them have been coming for years; they don’t really need much from me but I like helping them. Occasionally it’s a bit of a juggling act to fit everything in the kilns but we manage. And it helps to have a regular income.’
That was something Fraser totally understood; despite his relative success, he’d occasionally gone months with no earnings and he knew a lot of the creative industries were the same. He drifted closer to the assortment of pottery. Now that he was paying attention, he could see that some were quite accomplished, with decoration that suggested a lot of effort had gone into them. And all of them were more than he could achieve. ‘Do you ever accept commissions?’
She blinked. ‘Sometimes. It depends on who’s asking and what they want.’ There was a pause. ‘And maybe how much they’re paying.’
‘Sensible,’ he said approvingly, then hesitated, unsure whether to voice the proposal that had been swirling around his head from the moment he’d woken up on New Year’s Day. Perhaps Maura would think it was a terrible idea, or even beneath her, given her evident talent. But in either eventuality, she might be able to recommend someone else who could help him, although he’d much prefer to work with her. ‘Listen, after we met at the party, I had this idea that I wanted to sound you out about. Have you got a few minutes now?’
Maura eyed him curiously. He had her attention, at least. ‘I’ve got time. What’s on your mind?’
Fraser took a breath. ‘I don’t think I mentioned my new business venture when we talked the other night. I mean, it’s not that new – I started it in September, when we came back to Edinburgh – but it’s new in that I haven’t done it before.’ He stopped, aware that he was babbling, but she was watching him with a patient expression. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I wanted to do something different, something that wasn’t acting but that still made use of those skills because I’m sort of a one-trick pony in that regard.’
And now Maura was biting her lip. ‘You’re a chicken and a pony? Impressive.’
The gentle ribbing caused some of his apprehension to lift. ‘I told you, I’m an actor withrange. Anyway, I was looking around for the right opportunity and a friend of a friend told me about a ghost walk business that was up for sale. To cut a long story short, I bought it and I’ve been running it for the past four months.’
Her jaw dropped a little. ‘Ghosts,’ she repeated. ‘Do you mean those walks around the city that revel in all the horrible things that have happened here?’
‘Exactly,’ Fraser said. ‘People love a supernatural story – the more terrifyingly bloodthirsty the better. I was in a stage production ofThe Highgate Hauntingsand you wouldn’t believe how fast it sold out. Some people came two or three times.’
‘So you’ve been doing the walks yourself?’ Maura asked, her forehead crinkling. ‘Or do you pay people to do them?’
‘There’s two of us,’ he replied. ‘Me and another guy called Tom. We split the walks between us – he does the stories he’s always done and I researched a few others for my own route, to mix things up and offer something a bit different.’
‘Go you,’ Maura said, shaking her head. ‘I hope you’ve got a big umbrella. You must be out in all weathers.’
‘I have. It’s got our logo on it. In fact, I’m thinking about adding them to the website so people can buy them.’ He shifted his weight and studied her hopefully. ‘Which sort of brings me to the point. When I was looking into taking on the business, I investigated a few other ghost-themed companies, to see what seemed to be doing well. And I found a company in York that really trades on their reputation as the most haunted city in England. They don’t just tell stories – they sell the ghosts to go with them.’
She stared at him for a long moment. ‘Erm…’
Reaching into his pocket, Fraser pulled out a small black and white box. He held it out to Maura. ‘Here. Take a look.’
With an expression of bemusement, she took the box and examined the ornate decoration. A few seconds later, she flipped the lid back and slid the contents into the palm of her hand. ‘It’s an old map of York,’ she said, examining the fine print on the tissue paper bundle.
‘Uh-huh,’ Fraser said. ‘Their overall aesthetic is really great. Peel back the paper.’
She did as he suggested and revealed a slender ceramic ghost, no more than ten or eleven centimetres high. It was matte black, with two oval holes for eyes and a cluster of greenish-yellow powder where a face might have been. Its robes trailed behind it as though made of silk, with fine lines hinting at folds in the material. Maura turned it over in her hands, examining it with professional interest before glancing up at him. ‘It’s lovely – really well made. They’ve used a slip case so they can produce in bulk and each one looks the same. But the decoration is applied by hand. It’s a really original idea.’
He nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. They have a shop on The Shambles but seem to do a lot of business through their website, with limited editions that sell out in minutes. It’s crazy – a real battle to nab one. Anyway, what I was wondering was whether you’d be able to do something similar for me.’
