Page 68 of The Christmas Retreat
I was surprised by this request and said an artist was at liberty to put in or leave out what details he or she pleased.
But then he alarmed me by laying a hand on my shoulder and saying, very seriously, that he had something he wanted to talk to me about, but that it must be a secret between the two of us. He took my answer for granted, not asking me to give him my word on this, which is just as well for you and I, Milly, have no secrets from one another.
I wondered what on earth he would say, and wished myself anywhere else, but what he confided in me was something that took me totally by surprise. He revealed that he had a condition of the eyes that meant the central vision was slowly vanishing into impenetrable mist and that though he had sought out the best medical opinion, nothing could be done to stop its progress.
This, then, was what had caused his increasingly broad and looser style of painting.
I expressed my shock and deepest sympathy – what could be worse for an artist than to lose their sight? I felt so sorry for him, such a famed artist, to have his career end prematurely, as it surely soon must, but to my amazement and, it has to be said, horror, he said, with one of his intense and mesmerizing looks, that the Fates had brought him the means to go on – myself, in fact! Not only had he become attached to me, but I had proved to be as good a copyist as my papa had told him I was, so that with my assistance he could continue to work with no one ever suspecting the problem. Or, presumably, the deception! He also seemed to be assuming that not only would I agree to this arrangement, but that I would be settled there at Triskelion for ever.
This so staggered me that I blurted out that, while I was very sorry for the pass he found himself in, he mustn’t get to depend on my help. As I had repeatedly told him, I had no intention of making my permanent home at Triskelion and meant to leave in the near future.
Also, I wanted to be an artist in my own right, not an assistant, or copyist. I had by then moved to feeling angry, and you know how blunt I can be at such times!
I was even more incensed when he casually flicked my cheek with his finger and said that I was such a child, and had no idea how fond he had become of me, so that we would be the perfect partnership, and I must put away any silly idea that he would let me leave Triskelion.
The way he talked, as if I had no option but to stay there with him for ever, doing his bidding, angered me and I think he saw the flash of rebellion in my eyes, because he said, warningly, that if any of my friends was foolish enough to help me run away from him, he would not only find and bring me back, but prosecute them for the abduction of a minor.
I don’t want to get you and Edwin into trouble of this sort, but hope we can find a way for me to escape, for I am starting to feel as if some kind of invisible trap is closing about me!
After lunch he had me put more detail into his picture for him, which I did in silence, but did not make any protest, because I began to be afraid that if I did, he would ban me from seeing you when you come here to visit.
Of course, even if he did forbid my seeing you, I would find a way to sneak out and do so.
As to those strange remarks of his over dinner, I simply don’t know what to think now.
Really, I’m starting to feel as if I am trapped inside the covers of a Gothic novel!
Your affectionate – and probably over-imaginative – friend,
Arwen
21
A Christmas Wish
Coming back into the house felt like immersing yourself in a warm bath, one deliciously scented with pine, cinnamon and other spices.
We had barely taken off our boots and coats before Opal followed us, so even she must have felt the chill up at Mab’s Tomb and quickly given up.
While the twins went off to change, through the open door to the kitchen, Toby and I could see Rhys sitting on the edge of the big table watching Bronwen stirring something in a large pottery mixing bowl and, when he caught sight of us, he beckoned us in.
‘Just in time for the mince pie tasting. Come on in!’ he said. ‘The first batch is just out of the oven, so we can make a wish.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Toby as we gathered round the table, where a dozen mince pies were cooling on a wire rack, each topped with a pastry star rather than a lid.
‘A Triskelion tradition. We call these Star Pies and you take a bite out of one and make a wish,’ Bronwen explained.
She took the pastry from the bowl and began rolling itout on the floured table, before starting to cut out circles. ‘It was Rhys who christened them Star Pies, when he was a little boy.’
We took one each, and luckily they’d cooled a bit, because who hasn’t taken a bite of a mince pie straight from the oven, filled with molten lava, and regretted it?
I didn’t know about the others, but I closed my eyes before taking a nibble and making my wish … which was to find my perfect forever home.
‘You have to keep your wish secret, or it won’t come true,’ Rhys told us. ‘But it might be fun trying to guess what the others will wish for when they gettheirStar Pies after lunch!’
*
I went to my room after lunch and began sorting out the material for the Wisteria Cottage books on the trestle table, but I couldn’t settle, so in the end I decided to go and look at the gallery at the pottery instead.
