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“You okay? You look a little tired.” Elda tipped her head, looking worried.

“It’s been a long day. I’m sorry.” She didn’t want the stress of the last few hours to spoil this evening.

“Work stuff?”

Charlie went to gloss over the truth but decided against it. “Family stuff, kind of. I went to see an old friend today. She needed help with money. She’s like part of the family. Her and the three kids.”

“Sounds tough. Is she all right?” Elda shifted, giving Charlie her full attention.

“She’ll get there. Her name’s Kim. The kids are Chloe, Sam, and Jacob.”

“How old are they?”

“Honestly, I can’t keep up.” Charlie brushed her fingers through her hair, flicking back through the years in her memory. “The two older ones are teenagers, and Jacob is about four. He’s not at school yet.”

“Big age gap. Must be hard.”

“Yeah, massive age gap, really. Kim’s eldest daughter, Theresa, was my friend actually. So, she’d be thirty-one.” Charlie stopped, forming her next sentence. “She died when we were younger.”

“I’m so sorry.” Elda’s hands pressed together in her lap.

“No, I am. I didn’t mean for this to get so depressing.” Charlie clapped her hands together and stood up. “Let’s go and see some more art.”

They wandered through the next room, in sync with each other. It was easy to be with Elda in a way that Charlie hadn’t noticed with anyone else. She was hot and sexy as hell, in a dishevelled kind of way, but there was something else about her that made Charlie bask in her presence. A sort of unique authenticity that rarely crossed Charlie’s path. Her train of thought was broken by the appearance of Maureen in the foyer.

“Shit. Follow me,” she whispered, guiding Elda into a narrow corridor. “I spotted someone from work. Bit of a cow, and I’d rather not have to make small talk.”

Elda ducked, then craned her neck to see who Charlie was pointing to. “She looks a bit scary. Quite cool though. Not many people can pull off a scarlet trouser suit.”

“That’s Maureen. She’s a KC—King’s Counsel. She likes to make an entrance. Who wears head-to-toe velvet?”

Elda’s laughter burst into the narrow space, and Charlie couldn’t help but join in.

Maureen was on the move. Frowning, Charlie took Elda’s hand and ventured further into the gallery. “This is turning into a bit of a farce. Let’s talk about you. How’s your week been?”

Elda dusted her shirt off and looked flustered at the attention. “It’s been a good one. I saw the new curator again, and he’s offered me top of the bill in the exhibition I mentioned.”

“That’s such good news. I’m really pleased for you.” She beamed, wondering where this feeling of pride had come from.

“Yeah, I’m just going to go for it. It’s been a real turnaround week actually, given that it started with a broken arm. Hey, there’s a sculpture room next. Show me around?”

“I’d love to.”

Elda’s energy was infectious. She might be someone that Charlie needed in her life: a contrast to all the stifled lawyers she was surrounded by. She reminded herself that jeopardising their potential friendship with a one-night stand would be a real waste. She was fast approaching her mid-thirties, with no real friends to call on in a crisis. Sure, she was driven, successful, and a shit-hot lay, if Jude’s response was anything to go by. But maybe there was more to life than dream careers and dreamier orgasms.

Chapter Eight

On Charlie’s second visit to the studio, she brought steaming tea and chocolate biscuits. She looked like part of the loosely arranged furniture, laid back on the sheepskin rug that Elda had installed to make the room more cosy.

“I don’t want to disturb you if you’re in the zone,” Charlie said, pulling an earbud out so she could hear Elda’s reply.

“You’re not disturbing me. Which is weird because I’ve not painted around someone else since college.”

“Really? You like to work alone?”

“I’ve never really thought about it. I like solitude, but you’re not in my way. Just sit and be with me.” Elda caught herself right in the moment.With others, even Jack, she played an internal monologue of things to say next, wondering how her face looked, how to make someone laugh. But with Charlie, she was just there, listening and leaving everything else to instinct.“Anyway, I’m almost there with these.”

“They’re finished?” Charlie propped herself up on her elbows. “How do you know when you’re done?”