‘I do not know it. You get pencil and sit in circle.’
‘Right, okey doke, thanks so much.’ I seem to have been transformed into a female Hugh Grant. I was relieved to see Grandad and his friends heading my way.
The Blonde Beehive nodded and moved off.
‘So you’ve met Aleksandra,’ Teddy said, indicating her back. ‘Cora used to love her classes. She is very good at charcoals. We thought you and Luke might enjoy the experience, something to do together, something to talk about . . . ’
I looked at the strip lights overhead, the table of squash and plastic cups, then back at the three old men staring at me expectantly, and wondered how romantic this could be.
‘And just pretend we’re not here, we’ll be quiet as mice,’ Howard said in his booming voice.
I put my hands on my hips. ‘I won’t hold my breath.’
‘What? We can do subtle,’ Howard whispered.
‘You’re about as subtle as a red suit at a funeral,’ Grandad told him.
‘Where’s Arjun?’ I asked, looking around the room.
Geoffrey blushed red and Grandad and Howard started laughing. My face moved into a frown.
‘He’s, he’s on his way,’ Howard said, clapping me so hard on the back I stumbled forward.
Grandad was smirking at something and I narrowed my eyes at them and looked around the room. What was so funny? Then I was distracted as a tall, good-looking man blustering his apologies to the lady with the beehive appeared in the doorway: Luke had arrived.
She was clutching his upper arms as she spoke to him and I could see him gesturing to me with a nod of his head. She released him and he made his way over, the ghost of a smile on his face.
‘Hey,’ I said as he kissed me.
‘Hey. That lady just told me I had a creative soul.’ Luke puffed out his chest and I opened my mouth before snapping it shut again. I didn’t want to deflate this happy man.
‘So, an art class,’ Luke said to Grandad, who shook his hand in greeting.
‘You both go and get some materials and find a place to sit,’ he said.
Luke was full of energy, jacket shrugged off, eyes firmly on the table with all the art materials. ‘This is a great idea. I wonder what we’re drawing? Maybe each other.’ Luke turned to waggle both eyebrows at me.
‘You’re a geek,’ I said, grinning as he leant in for a second kiss.
Howard gave me a thumbs-up as he moved away and I tried not to feel too self-conscious. People were settling in the large circle, easels in front of them, fixing paper to their wooden boards with masking tape. I turned back to Luke to suggest we got going and started at the new expression on his face. His eyes were bulging, and a rare blush was creeping up his neck and into his cheeks.
‘What is it?’ I frowned.
Luke’s eyes started darting around the room as if they couldn’t decide where to rest before choosing the floor as he mumbled, ‘There’s anakedarjun.’
‘A snake?’ I squealed, hand on my chest, ready to leap into his arms.
‘No, anakedarjun,’ he hissed and I waited, panting as the words sank in before turning slowly on the spot.
Ah.
A naked man.
A very naked old man.
A very naked old smiling man.
A very naked old smiling man who was waving at us.
Arjun.
‘Christ,’ I murmured, waving back uncertainly, unable to stop looking at Arjun’s penis. I turned to Luke. ‘That is Arjun and . . . that’s his cock.’
Luke’s mouth twitched and I saw tears fill his eyes as he pressed his lips together.
In the corner, Howard, Geoffrey and Grandad were practically bursting with suppressed laughter, hands clutching their sides as they stared at us and back at Arjun.
‘What is going on?’ I said out of the corner of my mouth.
‘I think this is Life Art,’ Luke hazarded a guess. ‘Or we really need to take Arjun to see somebody.’
Beehive Blonde Aleksandra started clapping in the middle of the circle. ‘Welcome to today’s session and we ready for great, great time,’ she said, indicating Arjun. ‘Arjun today model and we going to work on shadows. I come round and show you how, as am very good artist.’
Trying desperately hard to hold it together and act nonchalant, we collected up an easel, board, paper and charcoal box and moved to join the group.
Every now and again my eyes would flick to Geoffrey, who looked like he wished his narrow wooden chair would be swallowed by the floor; Howard, who was doing a terrible job of pretending he wasn’t perpetually pissing himself, and my grandad, who seemed relaxed with the whole situation and kept nodding at me encouragingly.
The next hour was spent furiously charcoaling, trying to draw Arjun without actually looking at him, sort of like the sun on a hot day.
Aleksandra would appear behind us at intervals murmuring encouragements. ‘Ah very good around the groin region, you might want to make bigger the pubic hair.’ But there were moments when I forgot who Arjun was, and instead enjoyed shading the muscles in the legs and trying to make the sketch on the piece of paper resemble the person in front of me. Mostly, though, I loved watching Luke, fiercely competitive and creative, shading and sketching with precision. When he held up his pencil horizontally, tongue clamped between his teeth, I started to laugh.
‘Whatcha doing?’
His tongue disappeared. ‘I’m just working out the proportions.’
Satisfied, he returned to the page, and when I looked down I gasped. His picture was wonderful.
‘I didn’t know you could draw.’
‘Lottie, I’m a graphic designer.’
‘Well, yes, but . . . this is really artistic, you’ve totally captured the expression on his face, and he is all in proportion. My Arjun looks like a star in the next Hobbit franchise.’ I pointed to the stubby legs on my paper and then focused back on Luke’s. He looked bashful as I continued, ‘Honestly, that is brilliant, you should do more of this.’
Finally the hour and a half was up and Arjun was given a towel to wrap around himself as we all packed our materials away.
Grandad headed over, a tentative look on his face. ‘Have you enjoyed yourselves?’
Luke was flushed with pleasure as the men gathered round to compliment his art skills. Trying to detract from himself he encouraged them all to show us their sketches.
Geoffrey hadn’t brought his glasses. ‘A sort of relief really,’ he said cheerfully, holding up his picture, which looked like a Ken doll.
‘Where’s his . . . you know?’ Luke said.
Geoffrey shrugged. ‘Couldn’t see it.’
Howard had drawn a penguin. It was pretty good. He’d found the time to sketch a dramatic backdrop of ice and mountains too.
‘Why the penguin, Howard? Is that a surrealist take on the evening?’
Howard shook his head. ‘No, no, it’s just I can only really draw penguins so I gave up on Arjun early on. He was that penguin,’ he said, pointing to a small penguin near an iceberg.
Packing up to leave I rolled my picture into a tube container that Luke had been given by Aleksandra, who was now gushing and discussing chiaroscuro with him, her pencilled eyes animated as she touched him on the arm.
‘A talent, a talent,’ she cooed as she passed me, stopping to simply nod at my Hobbit-Arjun. ‘It will come,’ she said briskly.