A Place Called Home. Eleanor Jones
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Название: A Place Called Home
Автор: Eleanor Jones
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474028905
isbn:
“I’ve got an appointment at three,” Mel said, looking pointedly at her watch.
Ellie placed the paintings carefully against the wall.
“Sorry, the traffic was awful and I couldn’t find a parking place close enough to carry them all in at once. I’ll go back for the other one in a minute.”
“Well, let me see the ones you’ve brought.”
Mel Morton was revered as an art critic and gallery owner, and Ellie was well aware that being given some space in one of her exhibitions, however small, was a huge honor as well as a chance to get her work seen. She believed that the two paintings she’d just brought in, the fox cub on its day of freedom and the one of her dad’s pup, Shadow, working the sheep, were probably the best she had ever done, along with her portrait of Into the Blue.
As the tall, elegant, middle-aged woman lifted them onto the display table, standing back to survey them with a critical eye, Ellie’s nerves jangled.
For several minutes the two women stood side by side in silence, absorbing the emotion displayed before them: the young fox’s look of fury combined with vulnerability, the dog’s keen expression and the apprehension of the sheep.
“I’d like to exhibit them if I can,” said Ellie. “But they’re not for sale right now.”
“They’d make a good price,” remarked Mel. “But maybe it would be better not to sell yet—drive up the value. The other paintings you’ve shown me aren’t bad, but they aren’t in the same league as these two. Did you say there was a third?”
Ellie nodded, trying to contain her excitement. “I’ll go and get it.”
When she arrived back at the gallery with her third painting, Mel was still absorbed by the two already on display.
“It’s the emotion,” she exclaimed. “It draws you in. You can feel the fox’s fear behind his snarl and the intelligence on the sheepdog’s face is something else.”
Ellie hesitated in the act of removing the cover from the painting of Into the Blue. “It’s not quite as contemporary a style as these two...more traditional.”
“Well, you don’t need to apologize for that,” Mel said. “Come on, let me see.”
Into the Blue looked magnificent, thought Ellie, staring out across the countryside like a king surveying his kingdom. It was hard to believe that she
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