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Art in Reality Ch. 07-10

By: Paul_Clowell



This is part three of an ongoing story. I think you could make sense of it as a standalone submission, but I recommend you read the previous two parts first, to get a better feel for the narrative.

I hope you enjoy it. 

*****

Chapter Seven

~

Peter reached out to his side, running his hand across the bed sheet.

It was cold. He stretched out further, but could not find the warmth he was searching for.

He opened his eyes and realised he had been dreaming.

A knocking sound penetrated his subdued consciousness; followed by a distant, muffled shout, 'hello.'

'Shit,' Peter snapped to fully awake.

He shoved the duvet away and clambered out of bed. He grabbed his dressing gown and threw it around himself as he staggered towards the front door.

~

Peter swung his front door open.

'It is Thursday isn't it?' he was asked.

'It is. Sorry Craig. I overslept,' Peter said, rubbing one eye. 'Come in.'

'That seems not like you,' said Craig as he walked into the cottage.

'I haven't been sleeping well,' said Peter as he waved Craig in towards the living room and gestured at the sofa.

'I had to scrape frost off the car,' Craig said as he slumped down onto the sofa.

'Yeah. Winter is definitely creeping in,' Peter replied as he ran his hands through his hair. 'Sorry, do you mind if I go and sort myself out.'

'I can't hold any kind of a conversation with you in a dressing gown.'

Peter smirked, nodded his thanks and headed for the bathroom.

~

Peter reached in to the shower and turned the water on; then stood back and pulled his gown off.

He caught his eye in the mirror and gave himself a withering look.

He sighed as he stretched his lethargic arms up over his head to remove his T-shirt, then slipped his boxer shorts down and stepped into the shower.

~

The water was a blessing. It was hot and blasted satisfyingly against the back of his neck. He stood, gently rolling his head around. It took only a moment before memories started flashing through his mind.

Her hair; clinging wet to her head, neck and shoulders.

The river of water running through the valley between her breasts. Her teasing smile; formed by full red lips and perfect white teeth. The feel of his hands running down her back; riding over shoulder blades, sliding along the smooth curve of her spine, dipping across dimples and coming to rest on soft flesh that gave a hint of the perfect bottom below.

Peter's penis had swollen into a tight, hard erection. He looked down at it and his mind projected the memory of her hand wrapped around it.

He recalled her nipples, puckered and protruding into hard buttons of arousal. The look in her eyes as she gazed into his own and the sweet sound of her voice as she said, "I want you too."

He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around his erection, giving it a slight squeeze.

He stood for a moment. He felt a thousand tickling sensations, as water flowed down his back, bum, thighs and calves. It contrasted with the hard stiffness of his cock as he held it in his hand.

He sighed, opened his eyes, and reached for a bottle. He squirted shampoo into his hands and began to wash his hair.

~

When he had finished washing himself, he stepped out of the shower and quickly dried himself off. His erection had faded away by the time he put the dressing gown back on and walked out of the bathroom.

He stuck his head in to the living room, but couldn't see Craig.

'You all right mate?' he called.

'Making coffee,' came back from the kitchen.

He continued into his bedroom to get dressed.

~

'Thanks,' Peter said as he sat on the sofa and picked up a mug of coffee. He sipped it slowly as he stared into the cold fireplace.

'Spit it out,' Craig said.

'Oh, sorry. Still half asleep,' Peter stood up. 'I'll grab my iPad for you.'

He walked over to his desk, picked up the tablet and returned to the sofa.

'I said, spit it out,' Craig said.

'What?' Peter asked as he held out the iPad.

'I don't think I'm here to proofread this,' Craig said.

'I've finished a chapter...'

'Your brain is not in this room.'

Peter paused.

'What's going on?' Craig asked.

Peter examined the cover of the iPad in detail.

'I had a row,' he sighed eventually. 'Well. Not a row exactly. But it feels like a row.'

'Right. With?'

'Someone I met.'

'Right.'

Peter paused again.

'You had a row with? The milkman?' Craig persisted.

'I don't have a milkman.'

'No shit.'

'With a girl I met. Last week.

'Ah.'

'Don't say, ah, like that.'

'What's her name?'

'Katie. Well, Katherine.'

'Katie is a pet name?'

'No. Katie to her friends.'

'So. She's a,' Craig paused. 'Friend?'

'Yes.'

'A friend that you were?'

'Were what?' Peter frowned.

Craig sighed heavily, 'a friend that you were shagging?'

'Craig,' Peter groaned.

'Well. Just trying to establish the facts,' Craig held up his hands. 'Why don't you start at the beginning. What's going on?'

Peter put the tablet down on the table and then sat back; he sank into the sofa and gathered his thoughts.

'I crashed my car. Last week in that storm we had. Well not crashed. A stray sheep ran across the road. I swerved to avoid it and skidded into a ditch. And got stuck. Katie pulled over and stopped to see if I was okay. She offered to drive me home. Which she did. And we hit it off.'

'I see,' Craig interjected as Peter paused. 'Starting to make a bit of sense now. You then met her again?'

'She stayed over that night. We spent the next day together and then she stayed over again.'

'That seems...' Craig said. 'No offence intended, but you don't strike me as someone who usually moves that fast?'

'No, you're right,' Peter replied. 'I don't, but. Sorry, I'm going to sound soppy. She's amazing. Was amazing. Is amazing.'

'So what have you done to fuck it up?' Craig asked lightly.

'I haven't done anything,' Peter asserted firmly.

Craig made no comment.

'The day after, the second night she stayed,' Peter continued, 'she got a call. She had to go back to London. Where she lives. She was here on holiday. Sort of holiday. She was painting. To meet a guy called Lancour. She's an artist by the way. Do you know Lancour?'

'No.'

'Well he's quite a big deal in contemporary art. He has very expensive galleries all over the world. He wanted to meet Katie with a view to exhibiting her work at the Lancour Gallery in London. It's a huge opportunity for her.'

'Nice.'

'Anyway to cut a long story short; I went back to London with her. I was supposed to go with her; to dinner. With Lancour. And she blew me out in favour of her agent; Gavin.'

'And you then had a row about it?'

'No, I left.'

'Left when?'

'Straight out of the restaurant. I left them to have dinner, went back to her place to pick up my bag, left her keys on the table and came back here.'

'Oh you both ended up at the restaurant at the same time? Crashed into each other, as it were.'

'Yeah.'

'You left without saying goodbye?'

'Are you listening? She screwed me over at the restaurant.'

'Relax,' Craig said. 'I'm just trying to make sure I've got the timeline straight. Why couldn't you both stay for dinner?'

'Erm. Hard to explain, but essentially Lancour made it clear that it was one or the other.'

'Right. Helpful.'

They sat silently for a moment before Craig asked, 'so she didn't know you were going until you'd gone?'

'No.'

'Right. Has she called or anything?'

'She's phoned a couple of times.'

'Good, what did she say?'

'Nothing. I didn't answer.'

'And she's left no messages?'

'No.'

'Right.'

Craig sat back in the sofa and took several sips of coffee.

'She told Gavin I was a holiday shag,' Peter said, staring fixedly into the fireplace.

'Gavin?'

'Her asshole agent.'

'Oh yes, sorry. She told you that?'

'No, of course not. He told me.'

'I see. He said, Katie says you're her holiday shag?'

'Not in those words but yes.'

'Right.'

Craig paused to see what Peter would say next. Several minutes went past before Peter said, 'right? That's it?'

'Is that it?' Craig responded.

'You're not going to say anything?'

'Do you want me to say something?'

'Yes. No, what's the point.'

'I will say something.'

'Go on then.'

'You should speak to her.'

'Why the hell should I speak to her, she's the one...'

'Okay okay,' Craig interrupted. 'I'll rephrase. You should listen to her then. She's been calling.'

'I think she's made it perfectly clear already...'

'I don't think so,' Craig interrupted again.

'What?'

'Look. You are more upset by this than you were when you split up with Karen. How long ago was that now?'

'Erm, four years,' Peter said, rolling his eyes up.

'Really? Anyway, whatever. You're practically shaking with; I don't know. Anger. Sadness. I don't know. All sorts of stuff probably.'

'Your point?'

'My point is; you're more upset over this misunderstanding with Katie than I ever saw you over the split with Karen. Which means you care a damn lot more about Katie than you did Karen.'

Peter paused; thinking. 'What misunderstanding?' he asked.

'Well. Probably several,' Craig reasoned. 'You went with her to the restaurant? Travelled with her I mean.'

'Yes.'

'Fine. So she knew you were going. Wanted you to go. Was she surprised to see Gavin?'

'Erm. Yes.'

'There's the first mistake. Hers; or Gavin's, I don't know.'

'The fact of the matter is she chose him.'

'Yes. She chose her agent to accompany her to a business meeting.'

'That's not what it was like.'

'That's not what it felt like.'

'You're twisting this. This is not my fault.'

'I'm not saying it is your fault. I'm saying maybe no one is at fault. At least, not very much. When you consider the circumstances.'

'So how did she describe me to Gavin? A fling?' Peter said, with a tight anger.

'I don't know, but almost certainly not the way he described it to you. He sounds like an asshole.'

'He called me a country bumpkin.'

'Case closed; he's an asshole,' Craig smirked.

'But she...'

'What?' Craig interrupted sharply. 'She what? Hurt your feelings by making a tough call?'

Peter was quiet.

'She was under a lot of pressure,' Craig continued. 'If this meeting with whatever his face was as important as you say it was. Stressed and caught by surprise does not generally make for a tactful person.'

Peters eyes watered. 'Fuck,' he whispered; then stood up and walked to the window. Craig stayed seated.

'I hate it when you're fucking right,' Peter said with his back turned.

'I'll be unbearably smug, but I'll save it until we've sorted this out.'

Peter turned and smiled briefly.

'What am I going to do?' he asked.

'Speak to her.'

'She stopped calling the day before yesterday.'

'Doesn't matter. You can't give up. Phone her.'

'I can't phone her.'

Craig paused for a moment before saying, 'swallow your pride mate.'

'Hmmm.'

'How many times did she ring?'

'A couple. A few.'

'How many?'

'Twenty three.'

'Twenty three!' Craig choked. 'Fucking hell. And here's you passing on knowledge to the next generation. You haven't done a book on social skills have you?'

'Alright alright. Shut up.'

'Twenty three. You dick head,' Craig said affectionately. 'This is not the behaviour of a woman giving you the brush off my friend.'

'You promised to hold off on smugness.'

'Twenty three,' Craig stood up. 'I'm going to go now. You've got a call to make. Email me the chapter I'm supposed to read.'

Peter stepped forward and gave Craig a rough hug.

'This'll be great in my best man speech,' Craig said. 'Yes ladies and gentlemen, twenty three times.'

'Ha ha,' Peter said sarcastically and pushed him back. 'You can piss off now.'

Craig grinned and walked to the door; put on his boots, coat and scarf.

'Thanks mate,' Peter called across the room.

Craig nodded, and left.

~

Peter sat, for a long time, with his mobile phone in his hand. He hovered his thumb over the call button several times. When he finally decided what he was going to say he pressed the button.

The phone rang; twice; and then diverted to the answer phone.

As he listened to Katie's voice brightly apologising for being unable to answer and telling him to leave a message, he said aloud, 'you cut me off.'

He hung up the call before the message recorder started.

'It should have rung more times than that. You cut me off.'

~

After pacing around the cottage for a few minutes, Peter slumped into the chair by his desk and tried to get on with some work.

He struggled in vain to concentrate for forty five minutes before giving up. He felt the twitchiness of unburnt adrenalin, so decided to go for a run.

Having changed into suitable clothing he set out along the clifftop path, going in the opposite direction to the village. The route this way ran unbroken for miles.

He pushed himself hard. Despite the frosty coldness and the biting sea breeze, he was quickly dripping sweat.

Half an hour later, as his muscles were burning, his phone rang.

He stopped and pulled it out of his pocket.

It was Katie.

He stood looking at her name as the phone vibrated in his hand.

Realising it was about to transfer to message, he answered the call and lifted the phone to his ear.

'Hello,' he said.

'Hi, it's Katie.'

'Hello.'

'You sound out of breath?'

'Yeah, I was running.'

'Oh, I see,' she paused. 'You phoned me earlier.'

'Yeah, you cut me off,' he said as he turned his back to the wind.

'Sorry, erm, I was in a meeting,' she replied. 'I've just come out.'

'Long meeting,' he said in a tone that he instantly regretted.

'Yes long meeting. I phoned you, more than once. You just come out of a meeting?' she replied tightly.

After a pause, he said 'no. I just. I wasn't ready to speak to you I guess.'

'Right.'

There was a long pause as neither said anything. The cold wind was cooling Peter off rapidly. His sweat clung unpleasantly and he could feel his muscles tightening uncomfortably. He felt the tell tale warnings of a cramp building in one of his calves.

'What did you want to say?' Peter asked abruptly.

'What did I,' Katie uttered. 'We shared the most,' she stopped as the words caught in her throat. 'I have never been so intimate with anyone and you left me,' she forced out in a rush.

'You made your choice at the restaurant.'

'It was a misunderstanding.'

'Gavin seemed pretty clear.'

'Gavin didn't...'

'And he seemed to have had a pretty clear appraisal of your thoughts about me,' Peter cut in.

'No. Gavin can be an asshole.'

'Is an asshole.'

'Okay, Gavin is an asshole.'

'He's your agent.'

'Yes. And an asshole. I did not tell him that you...'

'Why is he your agent?'

'Because he's a good agent.'

'He's an asshole agent.'

'Yes. A lot of agents are assholes. Shocker. Art can be a ruthless game.'

'Are you playing a game?'

They were both stunned into silence. Peter pressed his hand up to his forehead. Katie sniffed as a tear rolled down her cheek.

'I'm...' Peter began.

'I trusted you,' Katie snapped.

'I invited you into my home on nothing but the pure gut instinct of trust I felt for you.' Peter countered, pushed onto the back foot by the anger in her voice.

'Yeah, of course,' she said.

'What?'

'Well perhaps your motives are achieved.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' he asked.

'Well you've made your conquest haven't you? No need to stick around now.'

She stabbed her thumb onto her phone and ended the call.

Both of them stared for a moment at their phones.

Both of them sank down onto their knees.

Both of them burst into tears.

~

Chapter Eight

~

Katie spent the whole of the following day trying to work on a painting. It was a commissioned piece that was destined for the lobby of a hotel. It was not a particularly artistic or career progressing job, but it was a good earner, which was needed to pay the bills.

She spent the whole day alternating between periods of gazing melancholically at the canvas and short periods of stabbing angrily at it with various brushes.

Come late afternoon, she slumped back and looked dejectedly at the discordant mess of paint. Her blankness of mind was broken by the door bell ringing. She frowned, wondering who it could be as she walked over and opened the door.

'Miss Connell?' asked the visitor. He was a man who looked to be in his sixties. He had a friendly smile and was holding a bunch of red roses.

'Yes,' Katie replied.

'Delivery for you miss,' he said and offered the flowers up to her.

'Oh,' she took the bouquet. 'Thank you.'

After looking at the beautiful roses for a moment, she asked, 'isn't it a bit odd to send seven roses?'

'It is a bit unusual yes,' the man said and smiled again.

'Who are they from?' Katie asked.

'There's a card,' the man said and pointed it out.

'Oh yes,' Katie said and looked at the card. 'It's just got a circle on it.'

'An oh actually,' the delivery man said. 'Well, sorry, a zero to be specific. I believe the numbers are significant miss. I'll go and get the rest.' He turned to walk away.

'The rest?' Katie called after him.

'Yes miss,' he paused. 'There's more in the van for you. I'll only be a sec.'

A minute later he returned with two bunches of flowers; eight tulips and three hellebores.

'I was told to give them to you in a particular order,' he said. 'It's these first,' he held out the tulips, which Katie took. 'And then these,' he said, offering the hellebores.

'Erm, thank you,' Katie said, baffled.

'Stay put, there's more to come,' the man said as he pottered off back to his van.

He repeated the journey several more times. Katie was bewildered a she received flowers of all varieties, in differing numbers.

When the man handed over the eleventh bouquet he said, 'that's all of them miss.'

'Erm, do I give you a tip?' she asked.

'No no miss,' the man smiled warmly. 'Not necessary.'

'I've never received flowers like this before,' Katie said and smiled sheepishly. 'I don't know what to make of all this.'

'Maybe you could call someone to find out miss.'

He had put a particular stress on the word 'call'.

'Goodbye miss,' he said and turned to leave.

'Goodbye. Thank you,' Katie called as he left.

After closing the door, she turned and looked at the number and array of flowers covering her kitchen table.

'Numbers,' she said to herself.

An idea suddenly hit her and she went to pick up her phone. She looked at the call history. Peter's name was at the top of the list; she had not spoken to anyone else since their call the day before. She tapped the info icon to display his phone number and counted the digits.

Eleven digits. Eleven bunches of flowers.

She quickly went through the digits to discover the number of flowers matched Peter's phone number perfectly. She knew the flowers were from him. A tumult of emotions ran through her.

Without thinking she tapped the call button on her phone and held it up to her ear.

After a couple of rings, Peter answered, 'hello.'

'Hello,' Katie said.

'Hi.'

'Are you responsible for giving me this dreadful hay fever?' she asked.

'Oh god,' he said with genuine panic in his voice. 'Are you allergic to flower pollen?'

'No,' she paused. 'Just winding you up.'

'You. I. If,' Peter stammered. 'You just took five years off my life.'

'Sorry,' Katie replied. 'The flowers are lovely.'

Suddenly she heard someone call in the background.

'Have you got someone with you?' she asked.

'Ah yes,' Peter said. 'It's Daniel and Susan. They're round for dinner.'

'Oh sorry. This is a bad time.'

'No it's alright,' he replied, and then called away from the phone, 'hang on a sec Dan, I'm just on the phone.'


Art in Reality Ch. 07-10



'I can call later?' Katie asked.

'No it's fine,' Peter started saying before he suddenly exclaimed, 'oh shit the fish cakes are burning. Hang on.'

There was a loud clatter as he dumped the phone down. Katie smiled and waited for him to pick it back up.

'Sorry Katie. Sorry,' Peter said after a minute.

'I'll call you back later.'

'No. Well, could you?' he said. 'I really want to talk to you. It's just I asked them round ages ago and we hardly ever...'

'It's fine Peter,' Katie interrupted. 'Why don't you call me later when you're ready?'

'Okay,' he said. 'Katie I'm really sorry, I've been an idiot. I hope you can forgive me.'

'I'm sorry too,' she replied. 'For everything that's gone wrong. But let's talk later.'

'Okay. Thanks for calling.'

'Speak to you later.'

'Okay, bye.'

'Bye.'

'Bye.'

~

It was quite late in the evening when Katie's phone rang. She answered it quickly.

'Hello Peter.'

'Hi, I haven't woken you have I? Sorry it's late.'

'No no. I'm watching a trashy film,' Katie smiled. 'There's half a bottle of wine left and the greasy remains of a take away pizza in front of me. It was good, but a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.'

'Don't be daft,' Peter said. 'There's not an ounce of fat on you.'

'Sweet. But not true.'

'Okay, well it's all in the right places.'

'Are you saying I'm fat?'

'No, of course not, not at,' he paused. 'You're winding me up.'

'To easy,' said Katie smiling. 'And cute. Have your guests gone?'

'Yes, yep couple of minutes ago.'

'Nice time?'

'Yeah. Susan is an old friend. Went to Uni with her.'

'Thank you for the flowers.'

'You're welcome,' he said and took a deep breath. 'Katie I'm really sorry about...'

'Peter,' she interrupted.

'No please, let me finish. I have behaved like a complete fool, over and again. Gavin saying we were just a holiday fling really hurt me, because you mean a lot more to me than that.'

'Gavin is a dickhead.'

'So?' Peter let it hang.

'You mean a lot to me too. I really wanted you to come with me, to meet Lancour. It was a horrible misunderstanding on my part. When I saw Gavin, earlier that day, I told him about you, not any details though. We then went on to talk about dinner and I thought it was clear with Gavin that you were going to go with me, but he obviously didn't get that. He was unbearably rude to you, I'm sorry. With all the stress I completely panicked at the restaurant, and I'm so sorry you felt...'

'Let's stop,' Peter interrupted. 'Can we forget about it, can we? Can we just pretend I went home after that wonderful night at your place?'

'Oh yes let's. Let's do that.'

'It's a deal.'

Neither of them said anything for several long moments.

'Can I come and see you?' Katie asked eventually.

Peter sighed. 'I would like nothing more. But I'm going away tomorrow.'

'Away?'

'I'm flying to New York in the morning.'

'Oh you mentioned you were going. That's tomorrow?' she said with a crushing weight of disappointment settling on her.

'Yeah,' he replied.

'Oh bollocks. Sorry; I know you've been looking forward to it.'

'It's somewhat lost its shine now. I want to see you.'

They both hover in silence.

'What time's your flight?' Katie asked.

'Ridiculously early. Six fifty from Heathrow.'

'Ouch. That's; hang on, you're at home, how are you going to get there in time for that?'

'Drive, and leave ridiculously early.'

'You'd have to leave like now.'

'Not quite, but in a couple of hours.'

'Surely you should have stayed in London tonight?'

'That was the original plan,' Peter explained. 'But today was the only day Susan and Daniel could make, and we so rarely manage to get together, this became the plan. I hope I can catch up sleep on the plane.'

'You should get to bed now.'

'Should really.'

They both pause.

'No you hang up,' Katie said in a childish voice.

'Ha, yeah,' Peter grinned. 'Are you going to watch the end of your film?'

'Yeah, there's not a lot left.'

'What are you wearing?'

'Why?'

'I want to fall asleep with a picture of you.'

'I'm in a big baggy T-shirt with a picture of Snoopy on it,' Katie said. 'I sometimes wear it for bed, like a nightie. I've had it since I was a kid. And a pair of silly, fluffy wooly, multicoloured socks, to keep my feet warm.'

'I'd noticed you have cold feet in bed.' Peter said then paused. 'So; apart from the T-shirt?'

'Nothing,' she said slowly. 'Apart from the socks.'

'Apart from socks.'

'Ah ha.'

'So, under the T-shirt; and apart from the socks; you're, essentially, naked?'

'You could think of it like that.'

'Oh I am.'

Katie smiled. 'Cheeky.'

'Just painting a picture,' Peter responded with mock innocence.

'Ah ha.'

'It's a very nice picture,' he added.

Katie giggled.

Peter sighed and then said, 'I really should try and get a bit of sleep, otherwise I'll be in no fit state to drive. Sorry.'

'Off you go then.'

'Okay.'

'Sweet dreams.'

'They will be now. I have a picture.'

'Night night.'

'Good night.'

'I've missed you,' she quickly adds.

'I've missed you too. Sleep well.'

'Night. Bye.'

'Bye.'

~

Chapter Nine

~

Katie glanced quickly down, checking the time on her phone again. She let loose a wide yawn as she looked back up. The Heathrow airport terminal was very busy, despite it being so early. She had been there for two hours already; but was still determined to surprise Peter.

She had asked two different airport staff if this was definitely where someone would need to check in for the 06:50 flight to New York, which they had confirmed. He had twenty minutes to go before check-in closed; she was getting very twitchy that she had missed him. She supposed it would not be a disaster, given he was not expecting her; he would never know, but she desperately wanted to see him. The second member of staff she had asked had said he could not tell her whether a given person had already checked in or not, for security reasons.

Katie was pacing up and down, trying to cover the two sets of elevators, the stairs and the escalator where Peter could possibly approach from. Trying to scan every face in the crowd was tough. The only advantage she had was knowing he would be arriving alone, so she could dismiss people who were clearly travelling with company.

~

Suddenly she spotted him coming out of an elevator. He was pulling a wheeled bag and had a small carry-on bag over one shoulder. He had clearly had very little sleep and looked worse for the long drive. He took two dozen steps forward and then stopped, looking around to try and discern where he needed to go. Katie surged forwards, taking a curved path so as not to approach him directly.

He set off towards the check-in desk.

As he walked towards it Katie quickly circled round and approached from slightly behind him.

She fell into step alongside him and said, 'good morning sir, can I help with your bag?'

'No, I'm okay thanks,' he said, then turned his head to smile, assuming he had been asked by a member of airport staff.

His head turned and looked straight into her eyes.

He dropped the handle of the bag he was pulling along. It fell to the floor between them. They both stooped down to reach for it. Her hand caught the handle first. His hand landed on top of hers, a fraction of a second later. The both slowly stood up and rested the bag upright.

They looked into each other's eyes, hand in hand.

~

He lurched forward and grabbed her in a fierce embrace. Her face was buried in his chest; his arms wrapped over the top of hers and around her torso, holding her tight.

~

'I need to breath,' her voice was muffled through his coat.

He let her pull back and looked down at the huge, radiant grin on her face. She looked up at his dumbstruck eyes.

He lifted and placed each of his hands around her head, just below and behind each of her ears, sliding his fingers through the hair on the back of her neck, and kissed her.

Her hands jumped up and grabbed the lapels of his coat. She hung on to him to steady herself. Her legs were struggling to keep her standing.

The kiss was a shared tidal wave of love. It washed away all the residual hurt of their angry separation and filled them both with passion and care and desire and hope.

'What are you doing here?' he asked, still holding her beautiful face between his hands.

'I came,' she struggled to catch her breath, 'to see you off.'.

He leant in and kissed her again, then wrapped his arms back around her body and held her tight.

'Haven't you got a flight to catch?' she asked after a minute.

'Oh bugger,' he loosened his grip and looked at her.

'You've got,' she pulled her phone out of her pocket to check the time, 'fourteen minutes to check-in.'

He looked around, completely lost.

'Over there,' she pointed and pushed him in the right direction.

He walked over and joined the queue. It took only a few minutes to reach the front, check-in and hand over his bag for the hold.

He took his boarding pass and trotted back to Katie.

He took hold of her hand.

'I don't want to go now.'

'Don't be daft,' she said. 'It'll be great.'

'But you're not coming.'

'I'll be right here when you get back.'

'Really?'

'Well perhaps not right here. I'll go to the arrivals gate. Might make more sense,' she grinned.

'You'll come and meet me here?'

'Yep.'

An idea suddenly popped into his head. He reached into his pocket and took out his phone.

'What you doing?' Katie asked.

'I want a picture of you,' he replied and held the phone up.

'Oh no,' she placed her hand over the phone. 'Not under this light. And not at this time of day; I must have bags like balloons under my eyes.'

He tried to wriggle the phone free of her grasp, but she adamantly held on.

'No, not with this hideous fluorescent light,' she said.

'You bloody artists and your light,' he sighed. 'Will you send me a photo then?'

'What?'

'I can't go two weeks without seeing you. Please? Will you send me a photo? Or I'll wrestle you to the ground, pin you down and take one now.'

'Hmmm, I wouldn't mind you pinning me down,' she said coyly. 'But you should probably go now. You never know how long security will take, and you're pushing time a bit.'

'Please,' he persisted. 'Will you send me a photo?'

'Okay.'

'Promise?'

'I promise. I hate to say it but you really should get going.'

She pulled him to herself and they kissed several times.

'This is not fair,' he complained.

'No.'

They kissed again.

'See you soon. It's not that long,' she said, and pushed against his chest.

He took her hands together between his own and kissed them.

'Bye,' he said and kissed her hands again.

'Bye,' she said and gently pulled her hands out from his. She flicked her hand and pointed to the security gate with a playfully stern expression.

He smiled, then turned and walked away. She watched him go.

Just before he moved out of sight, he turned and waved. She waved back.

Just as he stepped out of sight, she could not hold her eyes open any longer. She blinked, and a tear shot down each cheek.

~

Chapter Ten

~

Katie swung her front door open.

'There was some old bloke hanging around out here. Bailey; Donald, Derik, David, something like that. I told him to piss off,' Lucy said from the doorstep.

'Good work,' Katie replied.

'Nice holiday?'

'Not bad. Cut short though.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah. Had to pop back for dinner with Pierre Lancour.'

'Excuse me?'

'Yeah. Just sorting out the details for my upcoming exhibition at his little gallery. You heard of it?'

'You serious?'

'Yep.'

Lucy screeched as she jumped through the doorway and grabbed Katie into a hug.

~

'So you want a new photo for the exhibition biog?'

'Ah, no,' Katie said. 'This is for something else. Someone else.'

'Oh,' Lucy said surprised, and then archly added, 'someone else?'

'A guy I met.'

'A guy you met is getting a bespoke photograph of you.'

'Sounds crazy.'

'Depends,' Lucy said. 'What's he like?'

'He's; nice,' Katie hesitated.

'Nice?'

'Yes.'

'That word does not match the look on your face,' Lucy smirked.

'What look on my face?'

'That look of dreamy, floaty, gushyness that I've never seen on your face before. You're in love.'

'Shut up. I'm not gushy.'

'Oh dear. You've fallen for a man. Did you hear that cracking sound? My heart just broke,' Lucy sighed melodramatically.

'Shut up,' Katie retorted.

'I was sure I could bring you over to our team.'

'Not a chance.'

'I came close.'

'No you didn't.'

'Liar.'

'I was, on that one incident, I was pissed out of my head.'

'Ah yes, but drunkenness brings out a persons true nature. You're a lesbian at heart.'

Katie changed tactic. 'But the feel of his manhood inside me was...' she said in an overtly exaggerated, dreamy tone.

'Stop! Spare me your revolting heterosexual shenanigans,' Lucy interrupted. 'Come on, I've got a photo to take.'

She swept up her bags and paced over to the centre of the room. She unzipped one and started pulling camera equipment out.

'What's the brief then boss?' she asked.

'He asked me to send him a picture,' Katie replied.

'Right. Strip off then.'

'You have a one track mind.'

'No I don't. He's a man.'

'And?'

'All men think about only one thing.'

'You're wrong about this one.'

Lucy raised her eyebrows.

'He's gone away for a bit. Just before he left he asked me to send him a picture. I think it's sweet.'

'So; a portrait then?'

'Yeah.'

Lucy rummaged around in her bag. She selected a roll of film and started loading it into her Hasselblad.

'I get film? I'm honoured,' Katie said. She stepped forward and looked over Lucy's shoulder.

'Colour?' she questioned.

'Yep,' Lucy nodded.

'I thought you always say people look better in black and white?'

'Ugly people look better in black and white. Gorgeous people,' she looked up, 'like you; look good in anything.'

'You never give up,' Katie rolled her eyes.

'I'm not flattering you. This time. I'm speaking factually. With my purely professional eye.'

She finished loading the camera and then asked, 'why did you ask me to take a picture? Me specifically?'

'Because; apart from the relentless sexual harassment you subject me to, you are the best photographer I know. And, well apart from insisting I'm gay, you understand me.'

'Oh,' Lucy stopped. Suddenly with genuine concern she asked, 'you know I'm only winding you up don't you?'

Katie smiled.

'I mean I do fancy the pants off you; because you are gorgeous. But you're a dear friend,' Lucy continued. 'I'm really pleased for you. I mean about finding; what's his name?'

'Peter.'

'Peter. Right; lets make him a decent pic then shall we?'

'Where do you want me?' Katie asked.

'First things first. Go and open a bottle of wine.'

'Piss head,' Katie accused.

'No,' Lucy feigned offence. 'A portrait shoot is nicer with a nice something to drink.'

Katie went over to the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine. She returned to Lucy with two glasses, who filled one glass a third full and put it down on a table. She filled the other glass ostentatiously full and handed it to Katie.

'I see. Relax the subject,' Katie smiled.

'So what's so special about this man then?' Lucy asked.

'I don't know,' Katie replied and thought for a moment. 'Actually I do know. He's caring; we have lots in common; intelligent; good looking; charming...'

'Steady on,' Lucy interrupted. 'You'll be turning me straight, just to steal him off you.'

'Yeah right,' Katie said and took a sip of wine. 'I've never met anyone like him. We just hit it off. He's so easy to talk to.'

'So you leapt straight into bed with him and now you're going to send him saucy pictures.'

'I did not leap straight into bed,' Katie said indignantly.

'Oh no?'

'No. We slept on the sofa,' Katie giggled. 'But there was no sex.' She paused for dramatic effect. 'Until the day after.'

'Hah. Slut.'

'Yeah yeah.'

'Grab one of those stools and sit by the window. You can't beat natural daylight through a window.'

~

Lucy proceeded to create pictures. She was a natural photographer; directing Katie effortlessly, to draw out natural expressions and poses.

Katie went through the usual anxieties at first; make-up okay, hair okay, outfit okay. Lucy was utterly reassuring and chatty; so Katie quickly relaxed, to a point where she almost forgot she was being photographed.

Two rolls of film and forty five minutes later, Lucy said, 'I'm very happy with what I've got.'

'Great. Thank you,' Katie said and then paused, clearly trying to think of how to say something.

'What?' Lucy questioned.

'Could we,' Katie hesitated, 'shoot a few more?'

'Yeah, course,' Lucy replied. 'Did you have something particular in mind?'

'Erm. Something a bit more,' Katie hesitated again.

'You do want to strip off don't you,' Lucy grinned.

'No,' Katie said quickly. 'But; can you think of something we could do that's a bit; sexier?'

'I certainly can,' Lucy's grin got bigger.

'Tasteful though,' Katie said, wondering if this was such a good idea.

Lucy took in a sharp breath and pressed her hand to her breast. 'I'm hurt. As if I would create anything that wasn't tasteful,' she feigned mock offence.

'Alright, alright,' Katie apologised. 'What do you think then? I want something to not let him forget about me.'

'Hmmm,' Lucy pondered, rolling her eyes around the air and then around the apartment. 'I think we should send him a few shots. A little series. Of you doing normal stuff; but looking drop dead gorgeous as you're doing it.'

'What sort of stuff?' Katie asked.

'Oh, like, reading a book, brushing your hair, that sort of thing.'

'And that'll be sexy?' Katie asked dubiously.

'Oooh yes,' Lucy replied confidently. 'Now; take me to you wardrobe.'

'What?'

'I'm picking your outfits. I need to see what I've got to work with.'

Slightly reluctantly, Katie led her up the spiral staircase to her mezzanine bedroom and gestured towards the wardrobe and drawers.

Lucy had a rummage around for a good five minutes, before pulling out a pair of plain grey boy short knickers and a baggy white T-shirt.

'Put these on,' Lucy stated. 'Nothing else. No bra. I'm going down to set up some lights.'

Lucy then marched off down the steps before Katie could utter a word. Resignedly, she stripped off her clothes and put on the selected outfit.

~

As she crept down the steps, somewhat self consciously, Katie noticed that Lucy had set up several flash lights on stands and had dragged the big Chesterfield leather armchair over to sit in front of a plain area of brick wall.

'First shot; reading,' Lucy declared. 'Park your bum,' she instructed to Katie, pointing to the armchair.

Katie obeyed without question. The leather was cold on her bare legs.

Lucy moved around her, businesslike, for a few minutes, setting up a light and a couple of reflectors. She fired a couple of test flashes and took readings on a hand held meter. When she was happy with the setup she handed Katie a book and began directing her.

'Lean back. Slide your bum forward a touch. Put your left arm on the arm of the chair. Lift you legs up, put your feet on the chair and push your heels into your bum...'

'I'm not sure this was a good idea...' Katie said, feeling exposed.

'It's a great idea. You look gorgeous,' Lucy interrupted.

'Remember these photos aren't for your personal collection, miss,' Katie interjected.

'The thought hadn't even crossed my mind,' Lucy said, grinning.

Katie dropped her feet back to the floor.

'Now Lucy I'm serious...' Katie began.

'Wow,' Lucy suddenly said loudly and firmly. 'So am I. I am serious. Yes, okay, I've had a small crush on you since the academy, because you're hot. But I am a professional. And I'm doing my job here. The photos will be for you. To give to whoever you want. I will do my best to make you look great. But you have to trust me.'




Art in Reality Ch. 07-10



'Sorry,' Katie said and lifted her legs back up as she had been instructed. 'I do trust you. I wouldn't be sat here in my pants if I didn't.' She struck a serious, innocent look, with a hint of a smile.

Lucy smiled.

'Good. Keep doing as you're told,' Lucy resumed her activity. 'Book open. Resting on your legs. Good. I need to adjust your T-shirt.'

Lucy leant in and fiddled with the T-shirt; pulling some bits away and pushing other bits against Katie's body. The contact, in places, was quite personal.

'What are you up to?' Katie asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.

'Making your boobs more visible,' Lucy replied in a matter of fact manner. Katie's eyebrows shot up.

'Look babe, you asked for sexy,' Lucy said assertively. 'In this shot we're going for miles of leg, a hint of bum cheek and a shadowy impression of boobs. Okay?'

'Okay,' Katie replied submissively. Lucy finished off by draping Katie's hair around her shoulders, before stepping back to the camera.

'Gorgeous,' she said, looking through the viewfinder. 'Eyes on the book. Neutral expression. Chin down slightly. Little more.'

The flash blasted as the shutter clicked. Katie jumped and blinked.

'Sorry,' she said.

'Don't worry,' Lucy replied. 'Your body reacted way after the shutter closed. In hundredths of a second terms. That was a great shot. On to the next.'

~

The next shot was of Katie brushing her hair, looking in the bathroom mirror. Lucy picked out a pair of low cut, tight jeans and a tank top for Katie to wear and photographed her from behind. With both arms raised, brushing hair, the top rode up Katie's waist to reveal her lower back and the two dimples above her bum, whilst the jeans shaped her bottom exquisitely.

~

Over the course of the next two hours, they worked their way through several more shots and several more glasses of wine. Katie had completely relaxed into the swing of it, under Lucy's expert and confidence inducing direction. In her minds eye, Katie's favourites were a picture of herself brushing her teeth in a lovely set of silky pyjamas; one of doing sit-ups in a little pair of running shorts and a sports bra; and one of her sliding a dress on, over the top of a beautiful set of lingerie.

~

'How about one of you painting?' Lucy asked after they had completed another image.

'Yes. Good idea,' Katie replied. 'Wearing?'

'Dungarees.'

'Right you are,' Katie said as she headed up the stairs to her bedroom. A few seconds after she had disappeared she leant over the balcony rail to ask, 'what top underneath?'

Lucy looked up and said, 'none.'

'What bra then?' Katie asked.

'None,' Lucy said and held her gaze.

'Nothing. You mean topless?' Katie asked.

'No. You'll have the dungarees on,' Lucy replied.

'But they'll only just cover my nipples,' Katie said defensively.

'That's fine then,' Lucy confidently held her tone.

'Well, erm,' Katie stumbled, 'okay.'

~

Katie slowly came down the stairs a couple of minutes later, in a pair of blue denim dungarees. She had a hand firmly clasped around each breast.

'Don't be such a prude,' Lucy said. 'They're only breasts.'

'They're only my breasts,' Katie retorted.

'They're a fantastic pair. You should be proud of them. Take your hands away.'

After a second of hesitation, Katie slowly slid her hands away.

She had been correct. The straps of the dungarees only just covered her nipples; leaving a large amount of firm, fleshy breast exposed.

'Nice tits,' Lucy quipped.

Katie's hands immediately snapped back towards her chest. Lucy jumped forward and held the hands with her own.

'Sorry. Couldn't resist,' Lucy said softly. 'Seriously, are you okay like this?'

'How are you going to take the photograph?' Katie asked.

Lucy explained; and then finished making her case saying, 'Peter will adore this shot. He'll be wild for you.'

~

Katie agreed to go ahead. They set up the shot with her standing, painting a large canvas. Sunlight streamed through the windows behind her, backlighting her exquisitely. Lucy had rolled up the legs of the dungarees to just below the knee, and told Katie to stand on tiptoe, to show off her feet and calves. In one hand Katie held a paintbrush high up towards the top of the canvas; in the other she held a paint board by her side. They had to strategically adjust the lengths of the two shoulder straps several times, to get the dungarees to sit just right; ensuring they hid each nipple. The shapely curves of each breast were plain to see. It all came together to make a fantastically beautiful and erotic photograph.

~

'That's the best damn picture I've taken in ages' Lucy said as she finished taking the last variation of the pose. 'Relax.'

Katie put the painting stuff down and perched on the edge of a stool.

'Do you think he'll like it?' she asked.

'He'd have to be a soulless lump of rock not too,' Lucy replied, and grinned.

'Good. Thank you for this. And thank you for pushing me to be brave,' Katie smiled.

'You are very welcome,' Lucy said, still grinning. 'You could reward me by allowing me to take a shot of you just as you are now?'

Katie's eyes flicked down. As she was slumped on the stool, the straps of her dungarees had bowed forward, allowing each of her nipples to starkly pop out of hiding.

'No,' Katie jumped up and swung her hands over her breasts.

'Oh well,' Lucy sighed. 'It'll just have to be another glass of wine then.'

'Go and open another bottle, whilst I make myself decent,' Katie said smiling and heading off towards the stairs.

~

When she made her way back down, in jeans and a T-shirt, Katie found Lucy on the sofa, with a second bottle opened and their two glasses on the table in front of her.

Katie sat down on the sofa opposite and poured two generous servings of wine.

'Cheers,' she said, holding one glass out.

'Cheers,' Lucy replied, taking the glass and chinking it against Katie's.

~

'I'm surprised you use that camera,' Katie said. 'Does it not just remind you of your parents?'

'No. Only now and then. It was the best birthday present they ever got me,' Lucy said. 'It reminds me more of happy times. I fell in love with photography with this camera.'

'How are they?'

'Fine. Dad's cool,' Lucy replied. 'Mum's Mum. I don't think we'll ever get back to how we were. I think Dad is okay with me being gay, simply because it means there won't be any men in my life. He's so protective of me, bless him. He probably never liked the idea of anyone penetrating his little girl. I think he thinks I'm safer with girls. Silly really.'

'Hmmm,' Katie murmured supportively.

'No grandchildren though.'

'Yeah. Well it's not impossible.'

'Yep,' Lucy turned decisive. 'Bring on the new world order where we realise men are only good for two things. Sperm being the first.'

'And the second?' Katie asked.

'We need to get over our squeamishness about cannibalism and eat them. Solve global food shortage.'

They both burst into laughter.

~

'I've been going through the shots in my head. I think we've got a strong series,' Lucy said.

'I sense a but?' Katie asked.

'But, I can't help feeling we're missing the grand finale.'

'Surely the dungarees one?'

'That one is great. No doubt. But I think we should finish off with something that will make more of an impact,' Lucy paused for thought. 'He'll hang the dungaree one on the wall...'

'Not.'

'...because it's a work of art. But the series should finish with something he'll want to hide and keep all to himself.'

'Hmmm; like what?'

Lucy sat back and thought for a moment.

'One of you in the shower,' she said suddenly, and scrutinised Katie for her response.

'The shower,' Katie replied.

'I've never seen anyone turn red so quickly,' Lucy said.

'No I'm not. It's the wine.'

'And you've not instantly protested at the idea. Which means something else has popped into your mind.'

'No.'

'Something prominent.'

'No.'

'What have you been up to with him in the shower then?'

'Nothing,' Katie said, squirming on the sofa.

'You're a crap liar babe. That's settled then. If the two of you have had a saucy time in a shower, it's got to be that.'

'Don't be daft. How would we even get a shot of me in the shower.'

'You strip off. Get in the shower. I photograph you. Job done.'

'I'm not stripping off in front of you.'

'I've seen you naked before.'

'That was a long time ago.'

'So? And I've seen your boobs already this afternoon.'

'And I was drunk.'

'Get drunk now if you like. It won't require much more.'

'No.'

'You're thinking about it.

'No I'm not.'

'I can see the cogs going round.'

'I'm not doing a full frontal.'

'Of course not,' Lucy laughed. 'We're not doing porn. You've got to leave him wanting more. And he will certainly want more.'

'How would we do it then?'

'Got you.'

'No,' Katie crossed her arms. 'You can explain what you would do. I'm not saying yes to anything.'

'It would be a shot of your back. We'd see back, bum and legs. Maybe a hint of bosom from the side. Nothing more. And you'd be all wet and shiny and gorgeous. And he'll marry you and you'll have lots of sex and babies.'

Katie giggled, 'it would be a bold way to end the set.'

'Yep.'

'I think Peter would like it.'

'Yep.'

'You sure I'd look okay?'

'I guarantee it.'

'Right. Let's go. Quickly. Before I change my mind.'

They both stood and marched towards the bathroom.

'Wait,' Lucy said. 'Wait here until I've got the lights set up right.'

'Good thinking. I'm not going to stand around in the buff.'

'Go and drink more wine. Don't get cold feet.'

~

Lucy quickly assessed the shower in the bathroom and figured out how to light the scene. She got the shower running and then set up the equipment around it to make sure nothing got wet.

~

'Come in then,' Lucy called from the bathroom.

Katie poked her head round the door and then stepped in.

'Can you give me a minute. I'm not stripping off in front of you. That would be weird.'

Lucy rolled her eyes, but left without protest.

~

A couple of minutes later, Lucy heard the call for her to come in. As she stepped back into the bathroom and looked into the shower, her jaw dropped.

Katie looked incredible; nude, glistening wet all over, and making no attempt to cover herself.

~

Katie found it surprising that her self consciousness had disappeared. She deduced that it must be that there was nothing left to hold back. Having stripped off entirely left no inhibitions. She discovered she found it quite liberating.

~

Lucy's eyes flicked up and down. She followed little rivers of water running down Katie's body.

Katie's hair was drenched and clung to her head, neck and shoulders. Water ran across her shoulder blades, down her lithe arms and dripped from the tips of her fingers. Water flowed between, across and around her breasts; with occasional droplets falling from the tip of a nipple. Water spread like a river delta across her stomach; splitting and recombining; channeled by the feint bumps and contours of abdominal muscles. Water gushed across her pubic mound; tickling through short, curly hair to disappear between her legs. Water torrented around jutting hip bones and onwards down long, toned thighs. Water ran down shapely calves and smooth shins; and pooled around a pair of graceful feet.

~

Katie surprised herself again. She realised the way Lucy was looking at her was pleasing; exciting; erotic even. Lucy herself was a good looking woman, who had an undeniable aura of sexy charisma about her. Judging from some previous partners that she had met, Katie was aware that Lucy had bedded many attractive women. To be openly admired; lusted after; by such a connoisseur of femininity was thrilling. Katie's heart rate increased as she felt a warm arousal grow between her legs.

~

'The things my tongue could do to you,' Lucy said.

'You'd have to go a long way to beat...' Katie said before stopping herself.

'Oh, he's had a go has he?' Lucy asked.

Katie instantly blushed scarlet.

'I see,' Lucy said. 'Well I suppose you would be impressed; but that's not saying much, given you can't compare it to what a girl's tongue could do to you.'

'I don't know,' Katie said provocatively, trying to reassert some confidence. 'He was good. I don't see how you could top it.'

'Well you'll have to let me have a go then. For scientific purposes of course. So you can make a meaningful comparison,' Lucy said in a purposefully matter of fact way.

'Okay. Once we've finished shooting,' Katie glibly replied.

Lucy paused, then grinned, before tilting her head down to the camera.

~

Both women enjoyed creating the photograph. Lucy took pleasure in composing the beautiful body in front of her, and Katie, continuing to discover aspects of herself, found she rather enjoyed being voyeuristically observed and admired.

Lucy took numerous shots; each with slight variations of pose, lighting and composition. When she was satisfied that she had the scene captured to perfection, she placed the camera safely aside.

As Katie turned back round to face her, Lucy instantly noticed that Katie's face and chest were flushed red; her nipples were stiff; and the blossoming lips of her vulva were now visible between her legs.

'So can I jump in there with you?' Lucy asked lightly.

Katie paused.

*****

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