Chapter 47 - Kate
KATE
Smiling at grief.
She may be late, but she comes into the exhibition smiling. Talking to Linda had helped so much. So, she and Bardy may not make a thing of it. She suspects he will be off to New Zealand soon. To his family. And who can blame him? She thinks it will be easier when he has gone.
Anyway, she has her home, her friends, and her family. Ellie has messaged that she will be home for Christmas, Bella always planned to be back in the autumn, and Jess called last night to say she and Matt are expecting a baby. So much to be grateful for. Happy about. And now there is also her art.
She looks around the gallery. She can’t wait to see what everyone has done.
There are a few people already milling around the exhibition.
God, is that Tash? She is obscuring Kate’s own painting.
She wants her to step aside so she can see how Nate hung it.
She glances around. He really has done them proud.
Linda approaches and wraps her in a hug.
“That’s the ticket. Chin up. Tits out. Leonard is about to start. ”
Before Linda finishes speaking, the space is filled with one of the tunes from Leonard’s musical, Wobble.
No singing this time, but a lovely melody.
It reminds her of the party. And as if on cue, there is Bardy turning to welcome Lou.
He catches her eye and raises his hand. Apologetic?
Embarrassed? Tash steps aside, and she has a clear view of her painting.
So does Linda. “It really is something, Kate, you must be very pleased with it.”
Kate links her arm with Linda’s and squeezes it, not speaking. She doesn’t think she could.
The painting, which she has called Migration, shows the creek in the foreground, but the majority of the painting is of the marsh and the sky.
Most of the landscape is in the natural colors of the lowlands, but she has chosen colors that Alice would have worn for highlights: ochers, turquoises, and purples.
Just like the splashes of color Alice had sewn into Kate’s clothes.
Despite everything, she is grateful to Hana for her advice on color.
It is the marsh, but it is her reimagining of it.
In the space where sea and sky merge are the birds.
A crescent sweep of what might be geese, with one exotic—the focus.
The birds are on the move, and there is a sense in that liminal space between the world of water and the expanse of air, of the birds being on a threshold.
The story is of an exotic who crosses over but leaves the world changed.
“The light is beautiful,” Linda comments.
“Thank you.” Kate will take that. It is what she is most proud of. And looking at this image just makes her want to paint more. Another gift from the sister who she loved so much.
“Come and see what I have done with your drawings,” Linda says, tugging on her arm.
Pia and Brenda are already there, admiring Linda’s entry. “Of course it won’t be finished,” she tells them.
“But you can see from the drawings what it will look like. It’s a seed, isn’t it?” Brenda comments.
“Yes, a seed head exploding.” Linda points to Kate’s drawings.
“It’s going to be a garden sculpture. I did do metalwork years ago on one evening course, but I will definitely need some help to finish it.
” So far, Linda has the stalk and the beginnings of the seed head.
“I’ve got to work out how to do the seeds.
I want to capture them as if they are flying out. ”
“I like it very much,” Pia says. “You will have to have a grand unveiling when it is finished.”
“Any excuse for a party,” Linda agrees.
Bardy and Lou join them, and Kate feels her face flushing. She notices that Lou stands close to her, and she is grateful to the big man.
“This is great, Linda,” Bardy says, “it really is going to be wonderful.”
“Well, I thought you would approve,” Linda laughs. “I am trying to capture an instance, a fraction of time, but I am taking my time about it. I think the garden gave me the inspiration. I never seem to rush my gardening. You can’t get impatient if things don’t do everything all at once.”
“Perfect,” Lou says. “And Kate, I have to say your painting is incredible.”
“Yes, it’s fantastic,” Bardy echoes. And Kate finally looks at him. There it is, the held look. The falling away of everyone else.
But she has finished wishing for him to choose her. That way only leads to pain and feelings of inadequacy. She glances back at her painting. It sustains her, and suddenly she needs to tell these people, these friends, something. “I won’t actually enter it for the competition though, because—”
Uzma bounces up, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Have you seen Tay’s drawing? You gotta see this.”
“I thought she hadn’t done anything. I mean, it didn’t matter.” But even as Bardy says this, Kate knows that he had been disappointed.
“Not gonna lie, she was late. But come and see. You’re gonna love it.”
They follow her across the gallery, dodging the growing crowd of people.
Nathan is hanging a large, framed charcoal drawing. “Look okay?” he asks Tay over his shoulder.
“Yep.”
“It’s stunning, babe,” Uzma exclaims. She grins at Bardy. “See? Said you’d like it.”
Kate glances at Bardy’s face. She thinks he is trying very hard not to cry.
Tay has created a charcoal drawing of Bardy sitting on a chair.
Maybe a sofa? He has his legs crossed (ah, tricky—the need for life drawing).
He is looking sideways as if at someone beside him.
There is a small white card beside the picture with the title, Close.
This doesn’t make sense to Kate, but when Bardy reads it, he no longer pretends he isn’t crying.
Eventually, he manages, “Thank you, Tay.”
For a moment, she thinks Tay might hug him, but as they turn, they both see Hana approaching. “That’s fabulous, Tay. The frame worked out well, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, thanks for the help,” and Tay gives Bardy a funny sort of nudge as she walks past to Hana, who puts an arm around her shoulders.
“Nice one,” Hana says.
Kate sees Bardy watching them. She can’t read his expression, any more than she can name what she is feeling. Hopeless? Moved? Confused? She is just conscious that Lou and Linda seem to have sandwiched her between them and takes comfort from that.
“Now we need to show you Pia’s piece, and Brenda has done something really rather wonderful,” Linda says.
At least this distracts Kate. “Brenda’s entering something?”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, but come and see. And then coffee and cake,” Linda suggests, and Kate is happy to be led away. First stop is Pia’s exhibit.
“Wow! I mean, Wow!”
“You like it?” Pia says, tentative, hesitant.
“It’s fantastic,” Kate says and means it.
Pia’s quilt is now a narrow band of quilted rectangles.
Rather than one enormous quilt “the size of Denmark,” it forms a strip of quilting that stretches almost the full length of the wall.
Each rectangle is quilted, but also painted with the colors of the marsh.
Images, or rather hints of birds, seem to have settled within it, and some are suspended in the fabric above what appears to be a horizon.
Kate thinks that the sheer scale of it makes it a true North Norfolk quilt.
It is set off well by the white gallery wall that seems to add to the feeling of a vast space.
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
Kate turns to find Nate beside her. “It made me think we could have done a textile art exhibition. It’s not something we’ve done before. But ah, well.”
“You’re going to be closing?”
“Looks that way. You need to come and see Constable’s clouds before you leave. Small . . .” He nods toward Pia’s exhibit. “Much smaller than this, but you still get the sense of space.”
“What will you do?”
“No idea. Might take a tip from Bella and go traveling.”
Kate rubs his shoulder. “Something will turn up.”
“You think?” Nate doesn’t sound convinced.
“Sorry to interrupt, but you need to see Brenda’s contribution,” Linda urges.
This does make Nate grin. “Yeah, go and have a look.”
Kate can’t tell exactly what it is from a distance—something knitted?
But as she gets closer, she starts to laugh.
Brenda has knitted each member of the group, including Noy.
There is Linda, plump in a purple dress with beads, and Leonard, complete with a knitted piano.
Kate is on a knitted bicycle, hair sticking up.
How the hell did the woman knit a bike? She even has Jack playing guitar.
“I love it, Brenda,” Kate enthuses. “But where are you?” As she says this, she wonders where Jack and Satya are.
Their knitted versions may be here, but she hasn’t seen them in person yet.
“Well, I didn’t like to put myself in. I mean, I’m not really one of the gang.”
“Oh, but you are, Brenda,” Pia insists.
Brenda colors with pleasure. “Well, I did actually do one, but I didn’t like to put it out.”
“Oh, you should,” Linda says, persuasively.
Brenda reaches into her large shoulder bag and pulls out a knitted figure wearing a knitted purple and pink suit. The figure is seated in a squishy armchair and appears to be knitting something. A matching dog’s outfit? Kate hides her smile.
Pia takes it from her and places it with the other figures.
“What did Brian think of them?” Kate asks.
“He couldn’t understand why I was knitting such rubbish. Or why his tea was late.” For a moment, Brenda looks despondent, then, looking at the three women, she continues, “So I told him to make his own tea.”
“You did?” Kate grins. “How did that go down?”
“He got a bit angry and then went to the pub. So I was able to get on with what I wanted in peace.”
Pia looks concerned. “You’re not frightened of him, are you, Brenda?”
Brenda looks surprised. “Oh, no, Brian’s not a violent man.
” She pauses reflectively. “Just a very boring one. And between us, I don’t think he’s all that bright.
I’ve always looked after the bills and finances, and he really has no idea of all the accounts we have.
He really wouldn’t have a clue if I left him. ”
“Are you thinking of leaving him?” Linda asks.
“I hadn’t been, but maybe things need to change a bit.”
The three women surrounding Brenda glance at each other. Kate wants to laugh.
“And there is always the life insurance,” Brenda continues, a twinkle in her eye. “Brian has no idea how much I have him insured for.”