Caroline couldn’t stop thinking about the note she’d received, with that plastic packet of white powder which she’d flushed down the toilet in her flat immediately, afraid to keep it anywhere near her. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be tempted by it, but having Class A drugs on the premises was a frightening thought.
What scared her the most, and she was amazed that she’d only realised it later, was that the envelope had no address written on it. That meant it had been delivered by hand. The location of her new job hadn’t been a secret; virtually everyone she’d worked with at the events management company knew she was going to Somerset to run a restaurant. But if the writer of the note had hand delivered it, that meant he was now in the West Country, which could only mean trouble. She was lucky, in one sense, that she was living and working in a place that was always busy, except, she thought, in those dark hours between closing and opening. Surely that would give her some protection? But protection from what? What did he want from her? She had the horrible feeling she was going to find out sooner rather than later. The question was, what damage could he do to her and her new job in the mean time?
But life had to go on. She had two choices; either lock herself away on her nights off and worry, or get out and make some friends in the village. Deciding that Thursdays would be her night off from The Cider Kitchen, she looked around for things to do. At first, she spent her free evenings over at Cowslip Barn with Anna and Ellie, but then an advertisement in Somerset Life caught her eye, and she signed up for a six week course of life drawing classes. She found the sketchbook again, and now that she had a little more time and a definite reason to get out of the restaurant, she decided to take the course. She also hoped it would allow her to meet more people. She’d met plenty as they came through the door of the restaurant, but none she could really call friends, Jonathan’s late night visits notwithstanding.
And friends were definitely a way to fight back against whatever that note and the packet of white powder meant. With difficulty, she forced these thoughts from her mind. The whole point of the life drawing class was to get her away from the restaurant and into Little Somerby village life, where she’d be visible. Not even he would follow her into an art class, she figured. As she walked along the High Street, heading for the hall, she noticed that there were quite a few people still about, either going to the pub or the local store, and she was reassured by their presence. Nothing could happen to her here, surely.
The class was held at the village hall which was a red bricked building erected by the Temperance Movement at the turn of the century. From the outside it looked austere and decidedly chilly, and Caroline wondered who would be brave enough to strip off on a cold autumn night in such a place. However, as she entered the hall she could feel, to her own relief and no doubt the model’s, that someone had turned the heating up to tropical to compensate.
Feeling slightly self-conscious, Caroline opened the double doors to the main hall and saw a group of around ten people of various ages sitting by easels arranged in a rough circle. The model, seated on a rattan backed chair with a large shawl draped over the rough edges, had her back to the doors. As Caroline smiled at the course leader, who motioned to her to take a seat at one of the easels to one side of the model, she felt the tingle of anticipation that she always got when she started a new drawing.
Caroline crossed the hall and took her seat. Fumbling in her bag for her artists’ pencils, it was only after she’d laid them out, noting with pleasure the thick paper that had been placed on the easel itself, that she looked up to make her first observations of the model. She felt only the briefest surprise when she realised that she was looking at the voluptuous, naked form of Anna’s best friend, Charlotte. Her long auburn hair was piled up on the top of her head, revealing an elegant neck that curved down to broad shoulders. Her face was turned in profile in Caroline’s direction, so Caroline could see the swell of Charlotte’s breasts curving down to a slim waist and rather plump thighs. One arm was draped over the back of the chair, the other resting with a hand in her lap. She was utterly at home in the chair, and Caroline, after musing for a moment on the oddness of seeing Anna’s best friend without a stitch of clothing on, marvelled at her confidence.
‘Hello,’ she mouthed as Charlotte caught her eye and gave the briefest, subtlest wink.
It was amazing how quickly Caroline’s artist’s eye took over. In no time at all she was sketching the lines of Charlotte’s body, putting in light and shade and enjoying trying to capture the texture of her hair. When she drew, it was as if everything else in the world melted away and it was just her and the subject in front of her. Nothing could touch her; not even him.
The two hours of the class passed, it seemed, in the blink of an eye, and Caroline was about to take down her picture from the easel. After some brief feedback from the course leader, she began to pack her pencils away.
Charlotte, who’d wrapped herself in the shawl before heading off to put her clothes back on, stopped at Caroline’s easel.
‘Christ, that’s good,’ Charlotte observed. Then, in an undertone, so as not to offend the assembled students, ‘better than anything else that’s been produced tonight! I don’t suppose I could buy it off you as a wedding anniversary present for Simon, could I?’
Caroline blushed. She hardly ever showed anyone her sketches and it was incredibly strange now the spell of concentration was broken, to be discussing what she’d drawn. ‘Let me put some finishing touches to it first,’ she said, starting to unfasten the drawing from the easel. ‘I’m not completely sure I’ve got your eyes right.’
‘OK,’ Charlotte said. ‘And let me know what you want, cash wise, for it when it’s done. I can have it framed at that place in Shipham – Folly Framer’s, I think it’s called. I wonder if they’ve done a local nude before!’ Charlotte’s eyes flashed mischievously. She readjusted the shawl as it threatened to slip off again. ‘I suppose I’d better get my kit back on before they turn the heating off,’ she said. ‘Do you fancy a drink at The Stationmaster, or have you got to dash back to the restaurant?’
Caroline smiled. ‘It’s my night off so I’m in no hurry,’ she said. ‘But won’t Simon be expecting you back?’
‘Oh, probably,’ Charlotte said airily, ‘but he’ll have to hold the fort a little bit longer. Evan’ll be in bed now anyway. And,’ she paused, mischievous look back in place, ‘I’m dying to find out what it’s like to be working all up close and personal with Jonathan Carter!’
Caroline found herself laughing along with Charlotte’s infectious humour. ‘Challenging,’ she replied. ‘Very, very challenging.’
Some time later, Caroline found herself a few drinks up and a lot more informed about the nocturnal activities and otherwise of several Little Somerby residents, many of whom were regulars at The Cider Kitchen. Charlotte’s sense of fun was infectious and Caroline began to unwind. Sipping her pint of Guinness, she leaned back against the cushioned bench seat.
‘So you didn’t leave anyone behind to move here, then?’ Charlotte asked. ‘No boyfriend back in Surrey? Some rich stock broker, perhaps?’
Caroline laughed. ‘Nope. I’m as free and single as they come.’
‘I should hope so with Jonathan Carter making eyes at you the way he does.’
‘Oh, come on,’ Caroline snorted. ‘He makes eyes at everyone female. And besides, I’m not ready for a relationship. Let’s just say I’m steering clear of anything male for a while.’
‘Oh yes?’ Charlotte raised an eyebrow. ‘Bad history?’
Caroline paused a fraction too long before answering. ‘Something like that.’ The man she was thinking of, the one from her most recent past, hadn’t exactly been a boyfriend, but the hold he’d had over her had been just as intense in the end. And that experience was enough to make her wary.
‘Sounds interesting,’ Charlotte said. Looking back up from her drink, Caroline expected to see a salacious gleam in Charlotte’s eyes, such was the other woman’s nose for a story, but she saw only kindness and compassion. ‘You don’t have to tell me, of course.’
‘It’s not what you think,’ Caroline said. ‘But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not go into details. Let’s just say that I wanted a clean break when I moved here. There are some things I’d rather leave behind in Surrey.’ And up until recently I thought I had, she added silently.
‘Fair enough,’ Charlotte replied stoically. ‘But I ought to warn you, nothing stays quiet around here for long. The village grapevine is a law unto itself. Sometimes it’s like living in the world’s most picturesque bird cage.’
‘You’re the one who’s just got her kit off for the local artistic community!’ Caroline quipped.
‘Oh, I know,’ Charlotte said. ‘But no-one would expect anything less from me. It’ll be fun, though, if I ever do go back into the classroom. Can you imagine if any of the people from the life drawing class have children or grandchildren at the local secondary school? I’ll never live it down on parents’ evening!’
Caroline laughed, glad the subject had moved away from her and her reasons for moving. As they finished their drinks and went their separate ways, Caroline felt as though she’d socialised properly for the first time since moving. She swore, on the remains of her glass of white wine, that she’d do it again soon.