Chapter 18
“O h, my goodness,” Millie shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’ve technically caused all this!” Amy and Daisy had just been filling her in on the explosive events of the previous night, whilst on the hour drive to Truro. She was in desperate need of more art supplies now her creative spark had reignited and wanted to head back to Lauren Shilton’s shop.
“Imagine if you had been there Mils, think of the drama then!” Daisy spoke from the back seat and all the girls exclaimed.
“Thank goodness I was so into my current painting. I was planning on coming, but I totally lost track of time,” she responded. That was a lie; she’d contemplated going and had actually stepped out the door at one point, but the nerves got too much. The thought of seeing Alfie again after what had happened – she knew he’d told their friends what had happened, but did they know she had slept in his bed? She couldn’t trust herself not to give the game away that something had occurred, and that would blow it completely out of proportion. Because in reality, nothing had actually happened. It had been safer to stay at home, where she had worked on her painting until gone midnight. It was the first time she had felt true pride in her work, without any self-deprecating words or thoughts entering her head and it had felt like a huge milestone. It was this which had inspired today’s impromptu trip to the art shop.
Glancing in her side mirror, she checked before pulling out around a truck. She wondered why she didn’t do this journey more often. An even combination of winding country roads and dual carriageway through pleasant scenery made for an enjoyable journey and if travelled at off-peak times, it was usually pretty quiet. Even on a dull, late November day like today, the wide fields either side looked lush, and the wind turbines stood proud on the hills in the distance, whizzing round like gigantic fidget spinners in the sky.
“Mils?” She snapped back to the conversation. She’d zoned out there.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“So what is the situ with you and Alf? Something we need to know about?” Millie rolled her eyes.
“You said he’d told you what had happened?!” she responded wearily. Amy and Daisy exchanged a glance.
“ We didn’t say he told us that,” Amy answered. Millie paused, realising it was Alfie himself who had explained he’d told the group the events of that night. He’d dropped her a WhatsApp in the early hours of the morning, and they’d carried on messaging that morning, back and forwards, about this and that and everything else. Maybe that explained the giddy feeling in her stomach and why she’d purposely stowed her phone in her bag instead of out on view in the car. She didn’t want to risk a message popping up from him and the girls seeing, because then they really would be prying further.
“Oh, well, he must’ve told me then,” Millie brushed it off, indicating to come off the dual carriageway and continue the smaller A-road towards the city. A knowing look passed between Daisy and Amy.
“Hmm, alright then,” Daisy replied. “But it all sounds a bit secretive and suss to me,” she slumped back in her seat. Millie caught her eye in the rear-view mirror; she may have looked innocent enough in her corduroy dungarees, embroidered with large daisies and her hair in plaits but the wicked smile on her face indicated otherwise.
“Shush now children,” Millie mock scolded, wanting to divert the attention away from herself and her feelings which she herself couldn’t make sense of, “I haven’t driven this road many times and I need to focus.”
* * *
The heady scent of chalk, paper and paints washed over Millie as she pulled open the door to The Artful Den. Millie had come alone, after Daisy and Amy had expressed an interest in trying on a full basket of clothes in the previous shop. Plus, Millie preferred to shop alone and take her time, with no disturbances. And it was no secret that the pair of them together could cause a disturbance.
Hints of Christmas were appearing in the shop compared to her last visit; a bountiful wreath on the door and tasteful decorations peppered throughout indicated the season was coming. She’d seldom thought about it this year. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to celebrate it as such. Maybe she’d spend this year alone in her cottage, tucked up warm with plenty of rich Yule Log and a large bottle of wine.
“Hi there,” she heard a voice call and when she turned round, she saw Lauren standing on a small stool, stocking some calligraphy pens on a higher shelf. On seeing Millie, a smile crossed her face. “We’ve met before, right?” she asked. Millie beamed, imposter syndrome creeping over her that her favourite artist was right here in this shop, recognising her.
“Yes, we have. I came in about a month ago for a bundle of supplies,” Millie replied. Lauren got down from the stool, her chunky Doc Martens landing heavily.
“That’s right! You were the - “amateur” - artist who needed to remember how good she was,” she said, smiling. Millie flushed, remembering the conversation. “How did the creating go?”
“Really well actually! So well, I’m back for more supplies!” she answered, feeling a rush of pride. To say that times had been hard lately would be an understatement, so Millie felt extremely proud of herself that she had managed to pull some energy out and crack on with something productive. So, she didn’t have a job yet. She’d realised there was more to life than work and whilst she had the opportunity to survive without a job she would do so for a little longer. Her New Year goal was to start seriously looking but, for now, she loved the chance to be creative and just gather her thoughts. She doubted she’d have the chance again for a long while if she got back into a career.
“That’s great!” Lauren said, beaming at her. “Do you have any pictures you can show me of your art?” Millie faltered for a second but then pulled her phone out her pocket; it was rare that she’d share her artwork at all, let alone with a stranger. Alfie seeing it once by chance that time had been mortifying. The only person she’d freely painted in front of was Sam and he’d made many a peculiar – bordering on scathing – remark.
She deftly scrolled with her thumb until she found a group of photos in their own dedicated album showing three separate pieces of work. Two were older pieces using the oil paints she had grown familiar of, the third demonstrating her new style using the heavier, more vibrant gouache paint. She mainly painted landscapes but with a keen focus on people – she believed even the most beautiful, striking of places wouldn’t be complete without people there to appreciate it. She was enjoying using the thicker paints and they dried considerably quicker than the oil paints she had become so accustomed to.
Lauren peered at the phone screen whilst Millie stood uncomfortably holding the phone out – gosh this felt awkward. Would Lauren tell her outright that they were absolutely awful and what the hell was she doing in an art shop? Or would she give some pleasant yet clipped response which indicated she wasn’t at all impressed but didn’t want to offend? After a few moments, when she had scrolled through using her index finger she said:
“Goodness, they’re incredible! What did you say your name was again?”
“Millie. Millie Jones,” she replied.
“Well Millie Jones, you really do have a gift! All that rubbish about you “not being very good?” Lauren tutted in mock outrage and Millie smiled, blushing outrageously. “Please tell me you share it with others?” Millie glanced downwards.
“You’re actually the only person who’s ever seen all of those photos together,” she admitted and realised then how silly it seemed.
“You need to share those, Millie. I mean, forgive me if I’m being too bossy! But there are so many people who would be inspired by them. Inspired even to pick up a paintbrush and have a go themselves,” Lauren said passionately. At her words, something pinged in Millie’s brain.
“Do you think so? Are people really keen to learn how to paint these days?”
“Absolutely!” Lauren replied. “I get several people in here a day looking to start a creative new hobby. A surprising amount of younger people too. Seems they’re not all just into learning the latest TikTok dance,” she laughed, her eyes crinkling.
“Interesting…” Millie began. “I wonder if I could pick your brains on something. And then after that I promise I’ll buy something,” she laughed.