A Trick of the Light by Ali Carter (books for 5 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📗

showed up one bend after another, never a long enough straight to get a clear view ahead. We were on a country lane in the middle of nowhere yet somehow, in some unfortunate way, Toby Cropper had wriggled his way back into my life.

‘Well,’ said Fergus, ‘as we’re a man short it couldn’t have worked out better.’

‘What about Ewen?’

‘I had thought about that but Zoe tells me he’s going away.’

‘Away?’

‘Yes, no idea where.’

I felt mildly smug at the thought it was me who’d encouraged Ewen to spread his wings.

Shane’s voice came hurtling into the front. ‘Are we nearly there yet?’

Fergus looked at Donald. ‘Aboot another twenty-five minutes or so.’

‘What’s that?’ called out Shane. ‘We can’t hear you, Rupert’s snoring.’

Fergus turned his head towards the back. ‘We’ll be home in twenty-five minutes.’

‘Good,’ said Lianne. ‘I’m ready for bed.’

‘Fergus,’ I whispered, making sure Donald’s aged eardrums couldn’t hear, ‘I’m a bit worried about tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow?’

‘It’s just, I don’t know how to put it, I’ve been thinking, tonight and all.’

‘What is it, Susie?’

‘I don’t think Cailey should continue to model for us.’

‘Okay. You’re the tutor,’ he said merrily. ‘Although I did book her for the week.’

‘In all truth with the image of her from tonight in their mind, it would be very difficult, probably impossible, for anyone to concentrate on life drawing.’

‘I hadn’t realised there was a difference but I’ll take your word for it.’

‘Thank you. I hope I haven’t caused a problem.’

‘Zoe’s bound to have a solution so don’t worry about that.’

Donald’s driving was cautious to a fault and when we eventually reached Auchen Laggan Tosh’s front drive he travelled so slowly up it you’d have thought he was doing his very best to avoid coming to the end of the journey.

‘Donald,’ I said, ‘I’m so sorry I never thanked you for putting on my spare tyre. Thank you.’

‘Mhàiri passed on yer wishes.’

‘Yes, but I really should have said something earlier.’

‘Dinee ye worry, Susie. It was my pleasure.’

‘Here we are,’ said Fergus.

Donald finally parked the bus and we all tumbled out, ready for bed.

Louis grasped my hand on the way upstairs and told me I needed to come and ‘get that thing from his room’. Obviously, he was making it up, but I was on board.

‘So, what do you want to drink?’ he said as soon as we entered.

‘Nothing.’

‘Come on,’ he pleaded. ‘Just one.’

‘Okay, one small glass of whisky and soda.’

‘Great. I’ll be back in a sec.’ He kicked off his shoes, flashed me a smile and tiptoed out the door.

I sat down on the very large double bed and swung my legs, grinning to myself about the childish situation here. I feel like a teenager, not quite knowing what’s on the cards but excited about being alone together.

‘Pour toi.’ He thrust a glass into my hand.

‘Which language do you prefer? French? English?’

‘I grew up in France. I went to university in England. When you have English and you have French, there is no comparison – French every time.’

He drifted across the room and picked up his camera. ‘You look so beautiful, I’m going to take a picture of you.’

‘Don’t be so silly.’ I put my hand over my face.

‘Pleeeease,’ he started to fiddle with the filters, ‘you need a photo on your website.’

I felt flattered he’d looked me up, and found myself smiling at him rather than hiding my face. Blast, the black shutter began to blink and I lost count of the number of pictures he was taking.

‘Stop it.’

‘Shh, shh, no need to shout.’

He sat down beside me and the cushy mattress gave way. We both shuffled backwards giggling like children, doing our best not to fall off it.

‘Can I see those photographs?’

‘Sure.’ He pushed the play button and held the screen towards me.

‘Stop. You have to delete that one, I look awful.’

‘No you don’t, just shy. People always look a bit odd when they’re caught unrelaxed.’

‘Exactly, so delete it. Please.’ I grappled with his fingers and won. ‘I trust you’ll delete it from the recycle bin?’

‘You have to trust me; relationships are built on trust.’

‘But you’re French.’

‘And?’

‘French men always have at least two lovers.’

‘Both of whom trust him,’ he laughed.

‘Can I see all the pictures you took of me?’

‘Please?’

‘Please.’

Louis handed me the camera and collapsed back on the bed.

Whoops, the dial spun and spun, many images whizzed by, and then suddenly they stopped on a rather lovely detail of heather.

‘This is beautiful.’

Louis leant forwards. ‘Oh that, it’s nothing. Give it here.’

He obviously felt emasculated by such a pretty picture.

‘I’m going to take charge of sifting through from now on.’

There were several terrible pictures of me and with a lot of persuasion I got him to delete them all.

‘Why did you sign up to this course?’ I asked as he went to put his camera down.

‘I wanted to meet you.’

‘Rubbish.’

‘It’s the truth.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

He picked up a sheet of paper from his dressing table and sped-read aloud: ‘Susie Mahl is a figurative painter trained at the Ruskin School of Art. She is best known for her oil paintings but takes commissions for pet portraits. Her love of landscape and nature makes her well placed to teach this course. She’s fun-loving, full of energy and is in no doubt that the richness and variety of Scotland’s natural heritage will provide an infinite source of inspiration to all artists attending the residency.’

‘Where did you get that?’

‘It was part of the starter pack. Ewen sent it to me and I thought, why not.’

‘You were lucky to get a place.’

‘I sent in a photograph with my application.’

‘Seriously?’

He laughed. ‘Of course I didn’t. Though I did say I’d like to give some more money towards it.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I think it’s a very good idea.’

‘That’s so generous.’ I suddenly felt awkward knowing Louis must be rich. I didn’t want him to think that’s why I was keen.

He immediately made me feel at ease. ‘I’m lucky enough to have some money to give away and when I heard about the sponsored places I thought it