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A beat too late, I remember Sol on nights out at art college, telling me I’d get mashed and crushed one day by joking with the wrong person, but here’s the thing about me: I’ve got a decent radar. One that pinged earlier at Hayden eyeing me up, if covertly, back in the woods. And here’s the thing about men with overgrown, untamed beards like his. It can’t hide brightness that doesn’t stop at his smile. His eyes gleam too, and I’m surprised into laughter at his murmured answer.
“Handcuffs it is, then.”
This is even quieter.
“And maybe a gag.”
He makes a request while I’m laughing. “Help me?”
I do. I secure that veil to its new leafy circlet and then I return to Sol, only turning one more time to see the bride let Hayden crown her.
Leaves settle, lace floats, and she grins, as pretty as any picture.
I lock that smile away to draw another time.And his.Or I would lock his smile away, only his head is bent, so I’ve missed my moment.
Sol clasps my elbow. “Nice save, Rae.” He tugs. “Come on. Let’s go get your things and a key to the stables.”
I almost get moving, only a ringing phone stops me.
Not mine.
It’s Hayden’s. “Marc?” he says into his handset. “Listen, you know how you don’t run weddings during harvest time? Yeah, how it’s too busy on the farm? Well, I need a favour.”
I don’t hear the rest. Not because Sol pulls me away. Hayden’s voice lowers, so this final act is inaudible. His shit-speckled shoulders bow first as if expecting bad news. Thebride’s and groom’s shoulders tense right along with his, and that worry?
I’ve seen too much of it on beaches lately.
Then he straightens, and this blinding smile of triumph? This version of him as a winner?
I’vegotto draw it.
4
RAE
Everyone has a weakness. Mine isn’t limited to distraction. I’m also the worst at speaking without thinking. I do that after peering around the front door of the school while waiting for Sol to return with a key.
“Are kids really coming back from their summer break on Monday? To what?” I ask a nosy blackbird perched on scaffolding. “Complete chaos?” I wish I could haul that back when I realise I’m not alone like I thought. The headteacher must have followed us from the chapel, where we left a much happier couple making arrangements for their wedding party.
The glass in the school door reflects an unhappy expression, and I hate that I’m the dick who carved those forehead furrows, only he doesn’t give me a chance to backtrack or to say sorry.
“It does look that way, doesn’t it, Lewis?” He opens the door for me like he isn’t offended. “Excuse all the dust and packing boxes. As you can see, we’re a very late work in progress.”
“Uh, thanks, Mr. Lawson. And yes. I can see that. But it’s actually Rae.”
“Rae?” Those frown lines deepen. They fade just as quickly. “Ah. From your surname?”
“Yes.” Here’s another of my specialties: My mouth disengages from my brain all too often, going off in tangents, but people expect quirkiness from artists, don’t they? That’s my only excuse for opening my gob and letting this spill. “Although my little sister should get the real credit. She always said I was a ray of fuc?—”
I snap my mouth closed before swearing, because yeah, I’m extra scattered when adrenaline takes the wheel and steers, like it has since I got anot yetinstead of a firmyesat my meeting this morning, but it’s no excuse for being a dickhead. “Sorry. Honestly, a few packing boxes? That’s nothing. I’ve spent the last six months in real chaos.” I try to redeem my first impression by nudging one of those boxes with my knee. “Can I help?”
That almost earns me a smile. It also earns me an armful of books, and maybe following him down a corridor while holding bestselling titles by real illustrators is some kind of punishment for me calling his school a mess, but it’s also a reminder of how much I need to be here, so I shoulder my portfolio, hold that stack of books even tighter, and hurry after him to make a better first impression.
“Sol says you’re doing great things here.” I cite someone else with school connections. “And Reece Trelawney had a lot of positive things to say about Glynn Harber when I met him.”
Luke Lawson isn’t distracted by my mention of a counsellor from a neighbouring children’s project. Mine is all about art, and I’m a one-man band. Reece is all about play and he has a big team, including some of this school’s teachers. In fact, I’m almost certain I met this headmaster’s partner.
What was his name?
