Having finished the painting of the church with its spire rising high into the blue sky and been reasonably pleased with it she now found she was blocked again. Propped on the table beside the easel was her sketch pad; she kept flicking through it for inspiration but none came. It was mid-morning and Adam was at work; she was expecting him to phone or text later as he had been doing each day. Although they’d seen each other every evening, following her wishes he’d returned home to sleep. With a sigh she moved away from the easel and wandered over to the window where she gazed out on to the front garden and street below. What was Jimmy doing now on this clear April morning? she wondered. Was he at work? Concentrating on a computer screen, with a client, or in a meeting? Or perhaps he was rich and didn’t have to work and was playing golf, or was even at home, reading the newspaper, or out shopping with his wife. Or maybe he was on holiday, taking a week before the schools broke up for Easter.
