The woods looked incredible: leaves turning so many colours like the wrappers in a box of Quality Streets. Sally and Simon spent most days, fingernails ingrained with oils, bubbling over with excitement about the challenge they were facing when they painted al fresco. When they get like this, even when they try and remember, they often forget normal stuff, like their daughter’s parent-teacher consultation and when they last saw her at meal times. It can be a bit lonely—at least I now had a piano at home to keep me company. But in Richmond, their studio was in the attic; here, they were a mile away at the centre. So it was that they missed out on the little drama of which I found myself the focus. The Wrickenridge High gossip machine was working over-time on the Zed Benedict/Sky Bright saga. I was determined that it was just ‘going out’; Zed had his protect-Sky-and-be-her-soulfinder agenda but I refused to discuss either with him—all of which made for a stormy time.
