Chapter Two #2
Fraser did some rapid calculations. ‘That could work,’ he agreed.
‘And in the meantime, I’ll get these ones packaged up and sent off to their new owners.
’ He picked up the nearest ghost and examined it, delighted all over again by its mournful brilliance.
‘You’re about to make a lot of people very happy. ’
‘I hope so,’ Maura said, and he thought the praise pleased her. ‘I must admit, I have a soft spot for them myself.’
‘Me too.’ Fraser’s gaze travelled around the studio, taking in the full shelves. ‘Those are new, aren’t they?’ He indicated a pair of round plant pots embossed with a delicate leaf design.
‘They’re an experiment,’ she explained. ‘I’m exhibiting at ScotPot at the start of June and the theme is “season’s greetings”, which is supposed to be a celebration of nature throughout the year. So I thought I’d make four plant pots – one for each season. That one is spring.’
He could see the appeal immediately. Who wouldn’t want the whole set? ‘ScotPot,’ he repeated. ‘Is that in Edinburgh?’
She nodded. ‘It’s been held in the grounds of Craigmillar Castle for as long as I can remember. Quite a lot of people go along.’
Fraser pictured the dramatic ruins to the south-east of the city, the roofless medieval tower and crumbling walls standing tall amid lush parkland and ancient woods.
It had been used as a location for the TV series Outlander , which had only added to its appeal.
‘Great venue,’ he observed as he studied the plant pot, admiring the perfect shape and intricate decoration. ‘What else will you take?’
‘Mugs, mostly.’ Maura reached to the back of the uppermost shelf and withdrew an exquisitely rounded cup that Fraser felt was far too elegant to be referred to as a mug.
It was made of a darker clay than the ghosts and was glazed a deep shimmering blue.
‘I’ll make some plates to go with them. People seem to like matching sets. ’
Fraser took the mug, turning it over in his fingers. ‘I bet they do. Can I buy this one? It’s perfect for my morning coffee.’
‘Of course,’ Maura said, sounding both surprised and pleased. ‘But you don’t have to buy it – take it as a gift from me.’
‘Absolutely not,’ Fraser replied firmly. ‘It’s beautiful cup and worth paying for.’
‘But—’
He held up a hand. ‘I’m afraid I have to insist, Maura. It’s very kind of you but I won’t get the same enjoyment if I’m reminded I manoeuvred you into a freebie every time I use it. How much would it be if I bought it at a show?’
Her expression remained reluctant and he suspected she wanted to argue. But he’d played his trump card by explaining it would diminish his enjoyment if he didn’t pay and, after a moment, she nodded. ‘The mugs are twenty pounds. Thank you. I’ll wrap it up with the ghosts.’
‘I don’t know you find time to make such lovely things, the ghosts, and still manage to teach,’ Fraser observed as she pulled out a sheaf of old newspaper and began to package everything. ‘When do you sleep?’
‘It’s mostly about juggling,’ she replied, flashing him a rueful smile.
‘Making sure the kiln is fully loaded before it runs, so that things get fired in a timely way. My regular students have all been coming for a while, so they don’t need to be taught that much but they do make a lot of pieces that I fire on their behalf.
It can be a bit of a balancing act to make sure their work doesn’t get pushed out by my own. ’
Fraser felt himself frowning. ‘I don’t suppose the ghosts help with that. Are you sure I’m not asking too much of you?’
‘No, it’s fine. I’m glad people like them.’ She tipped her head and offered a wry smile. ‘It makes a change from mugs.’
Fraser’s gaze travelled to the shelves where Maura’s other pieces nestled together.
Now that he understood how long the process of ceramics took, he appreciated Maura’s skill and dedication even more.
How many people truly understood the hard work and time that went into her work?
But perhaps that wasn’t the reaction she was striving for; in the performing arts, the goal was to transport the audience and make them forget they were watching a performance at all.
The visual arts were all about emotional connection too – the almost instant, unconscious response that led to someone deciding whether they liked, or didn’t like, what they saw.
In Fraser’s case, every piece on Maura’s shelves made him want to smile.
But if he was honest, Maura made him smile more.
It was a realisation that had troubled him the last time he’d seen her, when the long-forgotten memory of a school-days kiss had surfaced, stirring up some confusing feelings.
He’d been glad then that the ghosts would take several weeks to make – it had given him time to put things into perspective.
Bumping into old school friends famously made people nostalgic, maybe even led them to rue missed chances, but in Fraser’s case, those feelings had passed and he’d been able to see Maura as a business partner once more.
The fact that he found he liked and admired her just as much as her work was neither here nor there.
‘Okay,’ he said, forcing his thoughts back to the task at hand. ‘I’ll send payment for this batch. Will you let me know when the next twenty are ready?’
Picking up a small box, Maura began placing the wrapped ghosts inside. ‘Of course. I’ll get started on them as soon as I can.’
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. ‘And here’s the money for the mug,’ he said, laying a ￡20 note on the workbench. ‘Although I have a feeling you’ve undercharged me.’
Her impish smile told him he’d guessed right. ‘Mates’ rates,’ she said. ‘And don’t even think about asking the non-mates’ rate.’
With a shake of his head, Fraser accepted the compromise. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’
Naomi’s lips thinned when she came back to apartment around five o’clock and found the living room was strewn with flat-packed cardboard boxes. ‘What’s this?’
‘Boxes,’ Fraser said, frowning as he concentrated on slotting a sturdy flap into place without acquiring yet another paper cut. ‘For the ghosts.’
She glanced at the cream carpet, which was dotted with a number of small rectangular boxes embossed with the words The Edinburgh Ghost Company.
The sofa was covered with sheets of artistically aged tissue paper, a bag of shredded paper was overflowing across one arm and the coffee table was strewn with the larger boxes Fraser was intent on putting together before he left for his evening tour.
With luck, he’d get the pre-ordered ghosts packaged up and in the post the following day, once he’d taken Naomi to the airport.
‘I can see they’re boxes,’ she said pointedly. ‘What are they doing all over our living room?’
He looked at her in mild surprise. ‘I’d have thought it was obvious.
I’m putting the orders together ready for posting.
To do that, I need to wrap the ghosts in tissue paper and pop them in here.
’ He held up one of the small rectangular boxes.
‘And then put that box into this larger box, with a packing note and some shredded paper to protect everything.’
Her nose wrinkled. ‘I see. Is this going to happen every time you get a delivery from Laura?’
‘Maura,’ he corrected, then nodded. ‘Possibly. But I’ll make sure I get them out of the way as soon as I can.’
Naomi did not appear to be reassured. ‘I don’t want to live in a sorting office, Fraser.’
He opened his mouth to object but then glanced around and saw that the room was rather more untidy than he’d realised.
Every surface was covered and the armchair beside the sofa was take up by the box containing the ghosts.
It would all be gone by midday tomorrow but Naomi wouldn’t be around to see that.
He checked the time. ‘Let me just finish folding these and I’ll move everything to the bedroom. ’
She looked even less impressed. ‘I don’t want to sleep in a sorting office, either. Can’t you find somewhere else to do all this?’
Perhaps he could, Fraser thought, if demand for the ghosts grew. But he absolutely could not find an alternative space that evening. ‘I’ll put them in the hall cupboard,’ he said. ‘There’ll be room in there once you take your suitcase out.’
It was clear from the frosty silence that this solution was not acceptable either.
Fraser sighed. ‘It’s just for tonight, Naomi. By the time you get back from London, they’ll all be delivered and I’ll look for a lock up or a garage nearby to store things in the future. Happy?’
She looked, he thought, a long way from happy but she did at least manage a short nod. ‘I don’t have a lot of choice.’
With hindsight, he should have known she would react like this.
Naomi was a neat freak who liked clear, clutter-free surfaces.
She did not cope well with chaos, no matter how short-lived he promised it would be.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ll put everything out of sight until tomorrow.
What time do you need to be at the airport? ’
‘By six-thirty,’ she said coolly. ‘But don’t worry about giving me a lift. I’ve booked a cab to pick me up.’
Fraser had to admit he was a little relieved. He was not a morning person and hadn’t been looking forward to getting up before dawn. ‘Oh. Okay. Will you be awake when I get home later?’
‘At eleven o’clock? I doubt it.’
He got to his feet and crossed the room to pull her into a hug. ‘I’ll try not to wake you when I come in, then. Have a good trip.’
For a moment, he thought she would remain stiff and unyielding in his arms, but then she softened. ‘I will.’
He breathed in her perfume, a sharp lemony scent he’d never really warmed to. ‘I know it’s a work trip but I think the change of scene will do you good.’
‘Me too,’ she said, and disentangled herself to head for the door to the hall. ‘Enjoy playing postman.’
True to his word, Fraser transported the ghosts and their packaging to the hall cupboard before he left to meet that evening’s audience beside the Mercat Cross on the Royal Mile. When he returned home, a little after ten-thirty, he found a note from Naomi next to the kettle.
I’ve checked into the Hilton so I don’t wake you in the morning. Speak soon, N x
He stared at it for a few seconds, then reached out to flick the kettle on.
It wasn’t the first time she’d stayed at the hotel beside the airport before an early flight, but it was the first time she’d done so without telling him in advance and he couldn’t help feeling the business with the boxes had driven her to go tonight.
Perhaps he had been unfair in expecting her to put up with the mess, he thought, as he dropped a herbal teabag into a mug.
And she’d had a point about the likelihood of the situation happening again – in three weeks, he would have another batch of ghosts from Maura and there was a strong likelihood of another disagreement.
Fraser lifted the kettle and poured the boiling water over the teabag.
The sooner he found somewhere else to process the orders, the better.