Simply Blue by Diane West

Taylor West has enjoyed writing poetry and short stories since childhood and is now a columnist for a local newspaper. She has featured in a book with nine other Northern writers and is working on her own book at the moment.

Pete knocked at the door. It seemed odd to be knocking at the door he’d so often just opened and walked in. He couldn’t do that this time, not while he was with his colleague. Today it was a business call and he had to be seen to be doing his job properly. Nevertheless, he felt very uncomfortable and would’ve preferred one of the other lads to call rather than himself. He had suggested that to his boss and made the excuse that he had some paper work that needed completing. His boss told him, in no uncertain terms, that he should’ve finished any paperwork by now and that, if he expected to get out of his duties, he had better think again. He was part of a team and, as such, would do his share.

That really annoyed him. When had he ever slacked? When had he ever tried to get out of a job? He was usually the one who did the extra hours to cover for the lads when they didn’t fancy it or when they were off sick. In fact that’s how he’d gotten himself into the situation he was in. He was actually covering for Joe, who was off with a broken leg he’d gotten playing for the works football team when this whole thing started. He remembered that day as if it was yesterday and the excitement he’d felt was as fresh today as it had been all those months ago. He recalled the details;

It had been a fairly hot day in June and just too hot to be in uniform, but as the day went on he became accustomed to it. He’d only had one call out that day and it was a quick job that hadn’t taken long, so it was a relief when his colleague phoned in and asked him to cover his appointments for him. Joe had been a good friend as well as a work mate and they often covered shifts for each other. On this occasion, Joe had rung him and sounded upset. He’d been playing in a match the day before and had a nasty fall. He’d been up all night with the pain and in the end his girlfriend, Rosie, had insisted on taking him to hospital. It turned out he’d broken his leg. It looked like he would be off for a while, at least until he could get about properly. He would have to be based in the office for a while and leave the visits to the rest of them. He asked Pete if he’d mind covering his appointments for the day and he’d re-schedule his other visits from his pc at home. He was sorry it was short notice and he’d understand if he couldn’t. Pete reassured him he would gladly cover his appointments and would update him later that night. Secretly, he’d been relieved,

“Anything to get out of this stuffy office,” he thought to himself.

Immediately after, he felt guilty for thinking like that. His best mate was in hospital and obviously worried sick. He could hear it in his voice. He logged onto Joe’s computer and typed in the password Joe had given him to access his diary. Two of the appointments had been cancelled. He wasn’t sure if Joe had been aware of it, but it didn’t matter, he would tell him later. The third appointment though was an interview with a local artist. She was well known in the area for her sketches and drawings and Joe had arranged to meet her with a view to buying some pictures of the local village. Their boss had a promotion coming up and the lads had had a collection for him. Joe thought it would be a good idea to buy a couple of sketches of the area for him. Pete thought it was a great idea and so did the rest of the lads, apart from Rob and Craig from the opposite shift. They weren’t too keen and thought he’d appreciate a watch, but everyone gets watches. The lads wanted to do something different for him. He’d been a fair boss, although at times he would say things without thinking and upset the lads. Pete had been on the receiving end a few times too, but it was all part of the job.

He looked at his watch. The appointment was at 2.00pm. He had twenty minutes before he needed to set off. He didn’t need to write down the name of the lady, he knew that well enough. He’d often seen photographs of her and knew her name from the write ups he’d read about her. Moira Jackson, local artist. Now he was about to meet her.

He’d arrived at her house early, as he recalled. When he’d knocked she’d taken a while to answer the door as she had been upstairs. She looked surprised when she opened the door and he introduced himself.

“Oh you’re early,” she’d told him, “I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes. Please come in and sit down. Can I offer you a drink?”

As she spoke she smiled and her face lit up. She had the most incredible eyes. They were the most noticeable thing about her, he’d decided. Although he thought she was stunning, he couldn’t help noticing her eyes more than anything else. She gestured to him to come in and he followed her into the living room. His eyes moved down her body and he watched her hips swing as she walked before him. He suddenly realised what he was doing and he quickly averted his eyes to the sketches on the walls. Her work, he knew that without asking. They all had the same familiar style about them. He knew her work well by now. He’d done his homework and checked out her website. All the drawings she’d ever done were featured on it. He noticed another picture. This time it was a photograph of her and a man. They were holding hands. She noticed him staring at the photograph.

“Me and my husband,” she said. “We were on our honeymoon. That’s my favourite photograph.”

“Very nice,” he heard himself say, but that wasn’t what he was thinking.

There was something about this woman that made his nerve ends tingle. He’d often seen pictures of her, but seeing her in the flesh, was having a very odd effect on him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She walked over to the sofa and pointed to one of the chairs.

“Please have a seat,” she said, smiling. That smile again. It changed her whole expression.

“Thanks,” he replied, sitting down in the chair nearest to him. “Please, how rude of me, let me introduce myself. I’m Pete Wilde. I have to make apologies for my colleague Joe, Mr Barnes. He’s had a bit of an accident and will be out of action for a while, but he’s asked me to take over his appointments for today and I’ve been updated on the telephone conversation he had with you last week.”

The smile disappeared from her face and was replaced with a look of concern.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Mr Wilde. Is he alright?” she asked, “Nothing serious, I hope.”

“No, no. Just a broken leg. He did it playing football. I’m sure he’ll be fine and I’ll pass on your concern. Please call me Pete by the way.”

“Ok Pete, I will if you’ll call me Moira. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?” she offered.

“Yes thanks. That would be lovely. Coffee please, white, no sugar.” As he answered her, he caught her looking at him curiously.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked nervously.

“Oh no. Sorry, was I staring? I was just thinking you look familiar, but can’t recall who you remind me of. Excuse me, I’ll go and get you that coffee. While I’m doing that would you like to see the pictures your colleague has chosen? They’re in the file on the coffee table. Help yourself. I’ll be two minutes.” She turned and left the room.

Pete had the strangest feeling she was embarrassed. Mind you, had she seen him looking at her backside earlier, he would have been, so he couldn’t blame her. He glanced again at the photograph of Moira with her husband and thought what a lucky guy he was. The more he talked to her and watched her, the more he liked her.

“Not healthy son,” he said to himself. “Always steer clear of married women, no matter how beautiful.”

He bent down and picked up the beige file from the small table in front of him. Inside, were two drawings, quite rough and heavily marked. If these were the ones Joe had chosen for the boss, then he wasn’t sure they’d done the right thing, but then he saw there were two more behind them .They were the same pictures, but sketched lightly and with far more care and detail. These had to be the final pieces. They were wonderful. He liked them straight away. His boss would be very pleased with these.

As he was placing them back in the file, Moira Jackson returned carrying a tray with two mugs of coffee on. She bent down to place the tray on the table and he couldn’t help noticing her breasts. She was wearing a low top and he could see how round and full they were. His heart was racing. He had to stop looking, but it was hard. He hadn’t been with a woman since he’d split with Donna, his ex-girlfriend, and seeing Moira looking so gorgeous and so perfect, he was beginning to feel aroused. As she stood back up and returned to the sofa, the scent of her perfume touched his nostrils. It was a strong perfume, but pleasant. Probably expensive too. It certainly didn’t smell like cheap perfume. It had a lingering smell that was rich and musky. He liked it.

“Well, did you get chance to have a look at the sketches, Mr Wilde--Pete?” she asked him. “The rough drafts are there for you just to see how my drawings develop. I’ll be keeping those though. I only ever do one copy of each picture, so I like to keep the drafts for my collection. They will be framed of course before I deliver them in a couple of weeks time. It’s all part of the service and the cost.”

She looked straight into Pete’s eyes as she spoke to him. His stomach flipped. He told her how pleased he was with the drawings and that he was sure the other lads would be too. He knew Joe had seen them already and that this visit was just a courtesy call. He asked her when had she decided she wanted to be an artist and if it had been hard getting recognised. She told him she’d always loved drawing and, when she left school after staying on in the Sixth Form, she had wanted to go to Art College but she couldn’t afford to, so had taken a job in a factory and saved every penny she could. As soon as she had enough money saved she left the factory and opened her own shop. That’s how she’d met her husband Phil. He had been looking at her work in the window and came into the shop to enquire about it. They’d hit it off right away and he’d asked her out. Soon after, they became a couple. He was a local businessman and had introduced her to the right people. As her work improved her reputation grew. After a couple of years, Phil asked her to get married and a few years later they had moved back to the area where she was brought up. She wanted to be closer to her parents, who still lived in the area.

She insisted that, although Phil had assisted her financially at first, her success was due to her own hard work. Pete could see she was a very proud woman, who wanted people to know she’d worked hard to get where she was today and that just because she’d married a wealthy businessman, it didn’t mean she’d had an easy ride. He could tell she loved her work. Her eyes shone and her skin was glowing. She asked him a few questions about his job and then they were chatting away as if they’d known each other for years.