A Summer to Remember (18 page)

Yes, Nina thought, Janey would probably not be the best person to advise her with something like this. Anyway, maybe it was just a rivalry thing. Maybe the two brothers were just asserting themselves, and their feelings were nothing more than a kind of game to see who could win her first.

Nina sighed. She’d thought that coming to the mill was a sure-fire way of turning the page and making a new, simpler life for herself. However, this particular page not only refused to be turned, but seemed to repeat itself on subsequent pages like some freak printing error. Was it ever possible to get away from everything, she wondered? Was it ever possible to find some peace?

She walked to the window again and stared out into the velvety darkness, glimpsing the rush of the river under the bridge in the moonlight. This was such a special place and Nina didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardise her time there. She was there to work – not to get into some weird love triangle with two brothers. She had to nip this thing in the bud before it got out of control. As much as she adored the Milton boys, she could never see them through romantic eyes. It just didn’t feel right, however handsome they might be.

Then there was Justin. In the busy daily life at the mill, she’d almost forgotten her new dog-walking friend and the little slip of paper he’d given her with his phone number on. He was still waiting for her to call him, wasn’t he? She sighed. Nina wasn’t used to so much male attention; she was used to being one man’s doormat. It was a strange situation to find herself in – but not a totally unpleasant one, she had to admit. However, she had made a vow, which Faye had witnessed and seemed very keen for Nina to adhere to. She was not going to get involved with a man. It was too early.
Way
too early. So Dominic’s love-struck looks, Alex’s flirtatious ways and Justin’s suggestion of dinner all had to be put on the backburner because she was unavailable.

A few hours later, after finally managing to get to sleep, she was awoken by a knock on her door.

‘Who is it?’ she asked grouchily, wondering who would have the nerve at half past seven on a Saturday morning.

‘It’s me – Dominic.’

Nina gasped. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, feeling horribly embarrassed that he was standing outside her bedroom after she’d just dreamt about him. It was almost as if she’d conjured him up.

‘I need to talk to you.’

Nina panicked, grabbed her dressing-gown and pushed her hands quickly through her hair.

‘Just a minute,’ she stalled, before padding across the room with bare feet and opening the door.

Dominic was leaning against the wall. His face was pale and unshaved, and he was wearing combat pants with slashes all the way down them and a T-shirt splattered with red paint, making him look as if he’d had a horrific nosebleed.

‘What is it?’ she asked in concern.

‘I can’t believe what’s happened,’ he said, somewhat cryptically. ‘I guess I just didn’t believe it.’

‘Believe what?’ Nina urged impatiently.

‘Mum – she’s taken three portrait sittings for today!’

Nina’s mouth dropped open, half in relief and half in surprise that he hadn’t been about to declare his undying love for her. ‘But that’s good, isn’t it?’ she said.

‘I didn’t think it would happen so soon,’ he said, looking totally stunned.

‘Dominic – you didn’t think it would happen at all, did you? You were hoping it wouldn’t happen anyway – weren’t you?’ she said, cocking her head to one side.

He met her gaze and nodded. ‘I’ve got this group exhibition in Norwich coming up and I really need to get organised for that, but I don’t think Mum believes that we’re actually going to sell anything. She thinks I’m just playing.’

‘Oh, I don’t think that’s true.’

‘But this portrait thing – that’s proper money, agreed upfront. She believes in that,’ Dominic said. ‘But I just don’t feel ready for it. Look.’ He handed her a piece of paper with three names written on it.

‘Edna Bowridge. Felicity Makepeace. Maisie Myhill,’ Nina read the names and smiled.

‘And that’s just today’s. Mum thinks I can cope with that workload each day. She’s already talking about Monday’s bookings.’ Dominic’s voice was barely audible. His dark eyes looked terrified, as if he’d been told that his life depended upon his artistic skills. ‘I’ve never speed-painted before. It usually takes me weeks to complete a canvas.’

‘Yes, but we’re not talking Turner Prize stuff here, are we?’ Nina kindly pointed out. ‘We’re just talking about a few old ladies who want something to hang on their walls. Half of them probably can’t see properly anyway.’

‘Oh, thanks very much!’ he said, rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

‘No – I didn’t mean the paintings wouldn’t be good,’ Nina added quickly, ‘I’m just saying that they won’t be expecting you to create the
Mona Lisa
.’

Dominic sighed loudly and Nina watched his body slump against the wall. She hugged her dressing-gown to herself, aware that it had gaped open at the neck.

‘Did I wake you?’ he asked, suddenly noticing her attire.

Nina bit her lip. ‘No,’ she said although, in a way, he had. Or his face in her dream had – but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

‘What do you want, Nina?’

‘Pardon?’ she said.

‘From life?’

‘God, Dominic. You’re getting rather profound for a Saturday morning, aren’t you?’

‘What I mean is, would you be happy doing something you really didn’t want to be doing?’

Nina sighed. ‘I know you’d rather be doing other things, Dommie – Dominic – but you don’t have much choice at the moment, do you? And yes, I’ve often had to settle for second best. You just have to make the most of it by telling yourself that things will get better.’

Dominic smiled at her. ‘Will you help me, then?’

‘What would you like me to do?’

‘I don’t know – greet them, make cups of tea – that sort of thing. Moral support stuff, I suppose.’

Nina looked at this handsome boy, who seemed so unsure of himself. It was probably a very bad idea to spend any length of time with him, especially after their dinner together.

‘I’d be very grateful,’ he said, a small smile breaking over his unshaven face.

Nina smiled back at him. She felt a strange but pleasant feeling of warmth spreading through her body. It was, undoubtedly, the irresistible knowledge that she was needed, and that she felt truly valued by the people she was working with.

‘I’d be happy to help,’ she said, ‘but on one condition.’

‘What’s that?’

‘You have to stop panicking, have a shave and get yourself into some decent clothes so that these ladies you’ll be painting don’t think you’re some kind of thug.’

‘That’s more than
one
condition,’ he pointed out with a grin.

Nina grinned. ‘I drive a hard bargain – get used to it.’

Chapter Sixteen

If gossiping were an Olympic sport then Edna Bowridge would have won a gold medal. She’d started chatting away to herself even before Nina had opened the front door.

‘Lovely, aren’t they?’ she beamed, pointing to the terracotta pots at the front of The Old Mill House, the light bouncing off her pink-rimmed glasses.

‘Mrs Bowridge?’ Nina smiled.

‘Edna – please,’ she corrected, stepping into the hall. Nina took her heavy tweed coat from her, wondering how on earth she hadn’t suffocated in the heat. Underneath, she was wearing a crisp white blouse with a pearl necklace peeping through the opening, and a dark green tartan skirt and matching waistcoat. Nina couldn’t help but notice a very large safety pin on the front of the skirt. She hadn’t seen anything like that for years; not since her days at Sunday school anyway, when the teacher, as old as the church itself, had sported similar hairy monstrosities that would make the children wriggle and itch if they had the misfortune to be pulled up onto her lap.

‘We’ve got the studio upstairs,’ Nina explained. ‘It’s a south-facing room, so it’s lovely and warm.’

‘This is the first time I’ve done anything like this,’ Edna said excitedly, ‘But – gosh, all these stairs are going to make me rather red-faced for my portrait,’ she puffed, her hand very firmly on the banister rail.

‘I’m sure Dominic will take that into account,’ Nina said, leading the way up to the second-floor bedroom, which Dominic had turned into a studio. It had been his bedroom when he’d lived at the mill and, being at the front of the house, the light was perfect.

‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Bowridge.’ Dominic stepped forward to shake her hand as she entered the room. He had obviously taken Nina’s advice because he was now clean-shaven, wearing a crisp denim shirt and had perfected his greeting and handshake so that he gave an instant impression of confidence and serenity.

‘Please, call me Edna,’ she said, somewhat out of breath.

‘Can I get you a cup of tea or coffee?’ Nina asked.

‘A glass of water would be fine,’ Edna said before turning back to Dominic. ‘Right, my boy, where do you want me?’

Nina found herself spending most of the morning with Dominic and Edna. She could barely get a word in edgeways, let alone make up an excuse to leave the room. Edna rabbited non-stop and Nina felt herself going off into a trance.

She covered every subject from her neighbour’s homemade apple strudel to nuclear disasters in the space of her first sitting, but it all rather amused Nina. Every now and then she glanced over at Dominic to try and catch his eye, but he seemed to have built up a sound barrier between himself and his subject – which was just as well, as Nina would probably have started laughing and not been able to stop.

‘Er – Edna,’ Dominic said at length, ‘I’m going to have to ask you to stop talking now. I’m painting your mouth.’

‘Oh, I am sorry! I’m such a chatterbox, aren’t I? I know I am. You just tell me when you’re ready and I’ll be as quiet as a church mouse. You won’t hear another word out of me.’

‘I’m ready now,’ Dominic said.

‘Oh. Right.’

Nina smiled, chewing her lip to stop herself from giggling, her ears filling with blissful silence for the first time in two hours.

When Edna’s allotted time had ended, Nina showed her out, closing the door behind her before stretching her arms high above her head and yawning loudly. She bounced back up the stairs and into the studio.

‘Thank goodness that’s over!’

‘One down, two to go,’ Dominic said with a sigh.

‘But she seemed pleased with the portrait so far.’

Dominic nodded. ‘If only she’d shut up for a few minutes. She could talk the legs off a millipede, never mind a donkey.’

Nina giggled. ‘Can I have a look?’ Nina moved to where Dominic had taken up residence for his morning’s work.

He coughed nervously. ‘I don’t really like people seeing work that isn’t—’

‘Wow!’

‘—finished.’

Nina was too quick for him and was stood before the canvas before Dominic had time to persuade her otherwise.

‘It’s wonderful!’ she looked at him, mouth agape. ‘I mean,
wonderful
.’

‘You think so?’ his voice rasped, as if all the moisture in his mouth and throat had suddenly evaporated.

‘Yes, of course! I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. I mean,’ Nina tutted at herself, ‘most portraits I’ve seen have been so – wrong! Do you know what I mean? It’s probably not the right word. But you can almost hear her talking! It’s amazing.’ Nina paused and looked at the image of Edna Bowridge. There was such life, such vivacity, and yet it was so simple.

Dominic took a step closer and looked at the portrait as if he was seeing it for the first time; as if he didn’t quite believe Nina.

‘And you shouldn’t be so shy about it. You should be proud. God, if I could paint like this, I’d shout it from the rooftops.’ She turned to face him and, for a moment, saw herself reflected in Dominic’s eyes: smile in full beam and eyes dancing with light.

‘I talk too much,’ she said quickly, casting her glance down to the floor.

‘No. You don’t,’ Dominic said quietly. ‘And it wouldn’t matter if you did because I like to listen.’

‘No, I shouldn’t have pried,’ she said, shaking her head. Not if you don’t like people looking at your work in progress.’

‘It’s all right. I really don’t mind.’

‘Because I liked it?’ Nina teased with a grin.

‘I’m not that vain,’ Dominic said with a laugh. ‘I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t like it.’

‘Really?’ Nina looked at him, his dark eyes half-hidden by thick lashes. ‘You really wouldn’t care if I said I didn’t like your painting?’ she asked.

There was a moment’s silence, as if Nina’s question warranted some thought before answering.

‘I only want you to be honest,’ Dominic said at last, his voice calm but still rather grainy, as if he were on the verge of a sore throat.

‘Then I love it,’ Nina said, looking back at the picture. ‘I can’t be more honest than that.’ She turned back to Dominic. He was still staring at her. ‘What?’ Nina squinted at him.

‘Love. If you love it …’ his voice all but disappeared, ‘the portrait – you’ll have to let me paint one of you some time.’

‘Oh?’ Nina was taken aback by the suggestion.

‘Would you?’ he croaked.

‘I don’t think I’d make a very good model,’ Nina confessed. ‘I fidget too much. I’m like a jack-in-the-box. You know? I get bored.’

‘I see.’

‘Yes,’ she said, thinking it would be a very bad idea indeed to be alone in a room with Dominic with them both just staring at each other for hours on end. It was too intimate, too personal. She had to nip this in the bud once and for all. Dominic was meant to be with Faye – that much was clear to her. So, every overture he made towards her had to be stopped in its tracks.

They stood in silence and Nina wished that Edna was back in the room to fill it with her idle chatter again.

‘Can I get you a sandwich? We’ve got just under an hour before Felicity Makepeace arrives,’ Nina said, walking quickly to the windowledge and looking at the schedule she’d left there.

‘Yes, please,’ Dominic said, his voice returning to normal.

‘Good,’ she said somewhat hurriedly and left the room, her heart beating a little faster than normal at the embarrassment of Dominic’s suggestion that he should paint her.