choose from in London than there are in Montford.”
Their discussion was disrupted by the arrival of lunch, and then Judy continued,
“Oh well, you can’t go until you have sold your cottage, so I’ll just have to make the most of your company whilst I can. And I will be most offended if you refuse to accept a commission from me – I want to be able to say that the painting over my mantelpiece is by the same artist that the famous art connoisseur Hunter Lewis collects!”
Amy finally accepted Judy’s commission on the basis that it was impossible to refuse her without taking the risk of being nagged day and night for a month, and because she knew that nothing would make her as happy as putting up her easel on the green beside the village church and spending a few days painting. The experience was rendered more pleasurable because the vicar, Jean, kept bringing Amy out cups of tea and pieces of cake. It was also as well that she had something to keep her happy because she saw something a couple of days after her lunch with Judy which destroyed any myth that suggested that Hunter wasn’t the father of Loretta’s child. Casually flicking though a newspaper whilst waiting to see the dentist, Amy’s heart gave a little lurch when she saw a picture of Hunter and Loretta on the gossip pages. Loretta was looking tanned and gorgeous in a revealing cropped lycra top and jeans. The caption beneath it stated that: “Art aficionado and multi-millionaire Hunter Lewis is set to marry long-term girlfriend Loretta Swale. The couple are expecting their first child in the autumn”. So that settled that, thought Amy.
But if she thought that she could then firmly push Hunter Lewis from her mind, Amy was mistaken. The very next morning brought an unexpected reminder. She answered a knock at her door only to find Judy on the doorstep holding a letter.
“I was just about to call when I bumped into the postman; you have a letter from America – look at the stamp.” Amy snatched the letter from Judy almost crossly and ushered her friend into the cramped but cosy room. She immediately recognised the handwriting as belonging to Hunter Lewis. For some reason she had not got round to removing the note he had sent with that bunch of roses from her dressing table and had grown familiar with his style. “Is it from our Mr Lewis?” asked Judy.
“I think so. What can he want? If it is to ask me to be godmother to his child, the answer is no!” Amy tore the envelope open with slightly shaking hands.
“Well?” prompted Judy after Amy had read through the letter several times.
“What? – Oh, he is asking me to come out to America to paint a portrait of his grandmother. She’s called Marilyn Lewis. All expenses paid etcetera...”
“Will you go?” asked Judy excitedly.
Amy paused for just a heartbeat. “No,” she said. “It could be that he just loves my painting – but, honestly, it’s not as if he couldn’t commission any of a number of famous portrait artists who would love to paint Marilyn Lewis. And if there is any other reason, it is because I was the one that got away, despite his looks and his money and his charm. And if he’s engaged to be married that is inexcusable. Is he going to try and seduce me behind his fiancée’s back? It has to be no, I’m afraid.”
“Well said,” Judy observed, taking the letter from Amy’s hand and scanning through it herself. “I read about their engagement – although I stand by the fact that he was in love with you. I don’t know what his game is, but I agree that you can’t go. A pity, because it would have been a good career opportunity on the face of it. Anyway, I came bearing another commission for you – but I have to admit it seems a bit of an anti-climax after that.”
“What is it?” asked Amy with a weak smile.
“Paula Locke wants a portrait of her cat, Fudge.” The two women looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.
“I will be delighted to
Their discussion was disrupted by the arrival of lunch, and then Judy continued,
“Oh well, you can’t go until you have sold your cottage, so I’ll just have to make the most of your company whilst I can. And I will be most offended if you refuse to accept a commission from me – I want to be able to say that the painting over my mantelpiece is by the same artist that the famous art connoisseur Hunter Lewis collects!”
Amy finally accepted Judy’s commission on the basis that it was impossible to refuse her without taking the risk of being nagged day and night for a month, and because she knew that nothing would make her as happy as putting up her easel on the green beside the village church and spending a few days painting. The experience was rendered more pleasurable because the vicar, Jean, kept bringing Amy out cups of tea and pieces of cake. It was also as well that she had something to keep her happy because she saw something a couple of days after her lunch with Judy which destroyed any myth that suggested that Hunter wasn’t the father of Loretta’s child. Casually flicking though a newspaper whilst waiting to see the dentist, Amy’s heart gave a little lurch when she saw a picture of Hunter and Loretta on the gossip pages. Loretta was looking tanned and gorgeous in a revealing cropped lycra top and jeans. The caption beneath it stated that: “Art aficionado and multi-millionaire Hunter Lewis is set to marry long-term girlfriend Loretta Swale. The couple are expecting their first child in the autumn”. So that settled that, thought Amy.
But if she thought that she could then firmly push Hunter Lewis from her mind, Amy was mistaken. The very next morning brought an unexpected reminder. She answered a knock at her door only to find Judy on the doorstep holding a letter.
“I was just about to call when I bumped into the postman; you have a letter from America – look at the stamp.” Amy snatched the letter from Judy almost crossly and ushered her friend into the cramped but cosy room. She immediately recognised the handwriting as belonging to Hunter Lewis. For some reason she had not got round to removing the note he had sent with that bunch of roses from her dressing table and had grown familiar with his style. “Is it from our Mr Lewis?” asked Judy.
“I think so. What can he want? If it is to ask me to be godmother to his child, the answer is no!” Amy tore the envelope open with slightly shaking hands.
“Well?” prompted Judy after Amy had read through the letter several times.
“What? – Oh, he is asking me to come out to America to paint a portrait of his grandmother. She’s called Marilyn Lewis. All expenses paid etcetera...”
“Will you go?” asked Judy excitedly.
Amy paused for just a heartbeat. “No,” she said. “It could be that he just loves my painting – but, honestly, it’s not as if he couldn’t commission any of a number of famous portrait artists who would love to paint Marilyn Lewis. And if there is any other reason, it is because I was the one that got away, despite his looks and his money and his charm. And if he’s engaged to be married that is inexcusable. Is he going to try and seduce me behind his fiancée’s back? It has to be no, I’m afraid.”
“Well said,” Judy observed, taking the letter from Amy’s hand and scanning through it herself. “I read about their engagement – although I stand by the fact that he was in love with you. I don’t know what his game is, but I agree that you can’t go. A pity, because it would have been a good career opportunity on the face of it. Anyway, I came bearing another commission for you – but I have to admit it seems a bit of an anti-climax after that.”
“What is it?” asked Amy with a weak smile.
“Paula Locke wants a portrait of her cat, Fudge.” The two women looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing.
“I will be delighted to
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