Page 35 of On The Edge

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Her mum tied up her dark hair, her curls tightly bound up as she sat on the sand beside Cat. The water crept up to their toes, sliding back at a hair's breadth away. Cat drew swirls on her mother’s hands, following the lines and creases around her thumb and fingers. She took Cat’s little hand in hers and sighed laying back in the sun. Time stood still as they lay there, happy; together.

The morning came and Cat woke to find sketches and graphic, kaleidoscopic canvases sprawled on the living room floor. She looked at the shining paintings, and was truly stunned at what she had produced. They exploded with a passion that Cat hadn’t realised she had in her; paintings of trees with faces showing in the gnarled wood, and others with shapes that formed hands and eyes. She examined the composition, unsure what was deep within her to produce such work. Then a feeling of satisfaction washed over here, a calming reassurance that made her feel she was finally unlocking what was inside of her, piece by piece. One by one, Cat leaned her paintings against the walls to let them dry. Her larger canvas was an abstract, like sea waves, evoking a sense of loss. A shiver went down her back. What had been holding her back all this time?

“Really?” Jess was wide-eyed, with her hands on her hips. “You want to do a show?”

“Why not?” Cat laughed feeling dizzy with courage. “That is, if you like my work?”

Cat had driven to the gallery with a couple of her still very wet oil canvases; she had not been able to wait to show her friend, and inspiration had come to her on the way.

“I love them! I see lots of influences here, Jackson Pollock, Gerhard Richter and even Monet.”

“Maybe! Yes! All I can say is it just flowed through me, and all I want to do is paint!”

“But a show Cat?” A look of concern flickered on Jess’s face. “Are you sure it’s the right time, I mean - I love your work. But maybe it’s all a bit rushed?”

“It is, you're right, I know that,” Cat agreed. “But this feels so right, it’s time”.

The two girls agreed to collaborate together; Cat would have a show at the gallery and give a cut of the profits to Jess if she sold anything. She would also help out with marketing and general cover at the gallery.

“I want you to include some of your work too, I think both our styles would compliment each other,” Cat insisted, and Jess nodded her acceptance as they shook hands with a grin.

The next week was a blur for Cat; each day rolled into the next, bringing colours, darkness and new feelings. Whatever she felt, she let it flow through her and onto canvas. Each morning she would have breakfast and plunge straight into painting. She had never felt more alive or more in control of her life. She had had enough of being unsure of herself, and once again she had known instinctively to take action. She thought of Patrick occasionally, and painted with him in mind at times. She had come to the conclusion that it was better this way, apart; she did not want to be dragged down by another man. He would probably have ended up the same way as Dave; it would just have been a matter of time.

The next week, the girls met up for coffee at a favourite café in Kirkwall. Cat suggested the meeting, and was relieved to have some time away from her house after hours of intensive painting.

“What you need is a studio,” Jess said in a motherly tone, placing a notepad and pen on the coffee table. “Trust me, you need a space to work that’s not in your house.”

“You’re right, it’s just easy at the moment. But I might clear all Marge’s boxes out of the shed and start working there, while it's still warm. I just don’t know where to put everything.”

“Good problems to have, how exciting you’re painting for a show!” Jess cheerily whooped, “It’s all happening darling!”

“I don’t know how” Cat reflected. “It’s incredible, I would never have imagined I’d be in this position this time last year. I feel so free.”

Jess patted her notepad with authority. “OK! Now let’s start planning, it’s only a couple of weeks to go!”

With that, the girls discussed jobs to be done for the exhibition, starting with the wines to be served.

“Shiraz and Chardonnay,” Jess stipulated, and Cat agreed; happy to have any wine as long as people drank it in front of her paintings. They also discussed more integral details; to which magazines they should send press releases, and the other different ways they should promote the event.

“Social media of course,” Jess mumbled, the pen hanging from the corner of her mouth, “and maybe some country style and art magazines?”

They made notes, decided on which tasks each one would undertake, and ate several slices of much-deserved cake.

The local press soon got wind that a new exciting exhibition was on at the art gallery. Cat found the whole experience very surreal, but a piece of her was enjoying talking about her work, something she thought would never be possible. The two girls had appeared on the local radio station, chatting with the presenter, who had flirted shamelessly with Jess on-air.

“Well, what can I play for you beautiful lady?” he asked Jess quietly off air as the first song was playing. “Any requests?”

Jess and Cat wasted no time in making a long list of songs to play as their interview commenced, to the presenter’s dismay. “I only meant one song...” he grunted.

“Oh come on, why not a few? We could make this interview last a little longer!” Jess smiled back at him, which appeared to make all the difference.

“So tell us about the exhibition?” The clammy-faced presenter gazed at Jess eagerly.

“Well Darren, the show is named, “On the Edge”, and it showcases work from the talented Catherine MacGregor here, and a few other local artists. It’s all about the stormy dramatic landscape that inspires us, and the way it mirrors the strong feelings that we deal with within ourselves - all of us. Catherine will have her solo show on in the front gallery, and the other artists will be in the studio area behind.” Jess winked at Cat, looking calm and cool under the immense pressure of engaging the small number of Orcadians who would be listening to the show on their daily work commute.

“Well that’s just lovely, isn’t it?” Darren had his head resting on his hand, staring directly at Jess. “Where will your work be Jess? What about the landscape truly stimulates you most?” He swooned.