The Darkest Hour. Barbara Erskine

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ shook his head. ‘There is someone I want to see.’

      There was an appreciative groan across the room. ‘I thought so. The laddie is smitten!’ A voice called from the sofa by the window. ‘Money on the fact that it is our little artist!’

      Tony grinned. He tapped the side of his nose. ‘State secret.’

      ‘You’ll be wanting to buy Esmeralda then.’ Another voice. David Brownlow. From whom he had borrowed the car.

      He still hadn’t made up his mind about the little Morris, but suddenly it made sense.

      ‘A fiver, I think you said?’

      ‘Six was the deal.’

      Tony grimaced. ‘You want my shirt as well?’

      ‘Go on. You’ve got a rich daddy.’ The banter was good-natured. The men were climbing to their feet. Time to go out to the Flight hut. ‘The lady will love it.’

      Tony smiled. ‘The lady loves me!’

      Another general groan. ‘Don’t count your chickens,’ David advised gravely. ‘Even you can’t have wooed her so quickly.’ He reached into his pocket for the car key and dangled it in front of Tony’s nose. ‘Let’s see the colour of your money.’

      Tony reached into the pocket of his battledress. ‘I trust there is petrol in it?’

      It was David’s turn to look shifty. ‘Enough to get you there. Wherever there is!’ He let out a whoop of laughter. ‘I might have to ask you for a lift into Chi tonight, of course. On your way to the little lady’s farm.’

      They flew two patrols that morning; the skies were empty. When Tony set off for the farm he was in high good spirits, a bunch of flowers on the seat beside him. Evie hadn’t been down to the airfield that day but it never occurred to him that she wouldn’t be at home either. Rachel was walking across the yard, a jug of milk in her hand when he drove in and drew to a halt by the stable wall.

      ‘I’m sorry, Tony. She’s not here. She’s gone with her father to Southampton.’ Rachel waved an inquisitive fly away from her jug. ‘She wanted to do some sketching over there and grabbed the chance of the lift.’ She waited, smiling at him, seeing the boy’s face fall. There was nothing for it. Tony had to turn the car and go back to the airfield.

       September 1st 1940

      Eddie had a letter in his hand. He caught Evie’s wrist and pulled her across to the kitchen table. ‘Sit.’

      Taken by surprise, she sat. ‘What is it?’

      ‘I’ve had a letter from Sir Kenneth Clark’s office.’

      ‘About me?’ Her eyes sparkled.

      He nodded. ‘The War Artists Advisory Committee wants to see more of your work. But –’ he raised his hand as she jumped up ecstatically, ‘it has to be the kind of work that they are approving for women artists.’

      She sat down again with an angry pout. ‘I am not going to paint women in aprons.’

      ‘They don’t like the thought of you painting on an airfield, especially one that may be bombed and strafed regularly. It is too close to the action. There are male artists painting the flyboys and that is enough. I explained that you live near the airfield and technically are in just as much danger at home, and that you go to Westhampnett with your brother and are chaperoned and in no danger whatsoever, but –’

      ‘You said what?’ Now she was blazing with anger. ‘How dare you!’

      ‘It’s true, Evie. Well, more or less. They all look out for you, you know they do.’ He folded his arms. ‘It’s up to you. I can’t do any more.’ For a moment they glared at each other, then at last she looked away. ‘Don’t they want to see any more pictures of the planes and pilots then?’

      He chewed his lip for a moment. ‘I think it’s worth trying again with a new portfolio. We were stupid; we should have got you to sign the pictures with your initials. Then the issue of you being a woman might not have come up at all or not until it was too late and they had accepted you. I think the best chance now is to win them over with your sheer brilliance.’ He grinned at her. ‘So, sweetheart, have you anything new to show me?’ He stood up and wandered over to the dresser where her sketchbook lay. Picking it up he opened it and began to turn the pages. ‘You’ve torn some out.’

      ‘So?’ She was still fuming.

      ‘So, you can’t afford to waste paper. Have you anything upstairs in the studio?’ He glanced up at her. ‘Evie, you can‘t afford to slack. If you want to be taken seriously, you have to work.’

      ‘I have worked!’

      ‘Show me then.’ He strode towards the staircase.

      On the easel was a half-finished painting. Eddie studied it in silence for several seconds.

      ‘It’s good isn’t it?’ she said, standing behind him.

      ‘Who is it?’ He stepped closer, examining it more closely. The figure in the RAF battledress was standing in the middle of the airfield, a Spitfire pulled up on the grass in the distance, his helmet and goggles under his arm, the boyish grin and windswept hair immediately engaging and carefree.

      ‘Tony Anderson. He’s with the squadron at Westhampnett.’ Her mother had told her of his visit, of the wilting flowers on the seat in the car. His wistful remark about his parents had touched her deeply; she hadn’t been able to get it out of her head and almost without intending to do it she had begun the portrait for his mother. She thought back to his kiss and felt a jolt of excitement at the memory. She had hoped he would repeat his visit but there had been no sign of him.

      ‘It is good, you’re right.’ Eddie moved away from the painting. ‘Excellent, that can go in the portfolio. It’s not an action painting, and it is a good portrait with lots of warmth and enthusiasm. It would appeal to them.’

      ‘No.’ Evie folded her arms and stood in front of the painting. ‘This one is not for sale.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Eddie frowned at her.

      ‘What I say. It is not for sale and it is not for the portfolio.’

      ‘Everything you paint is for sale, Evie.’ Eddie’s voice was suddenly harsh. ‘That is our agreement.’

      ‘That is not our agreement, Eddie. We have no formal agreement.’ She glared at him. ‘This picture is for Tony’s parents. My gift.’

      She held his gaze for several seconds and it was Eddie who looked away first. ‘I’m astonished you think you can afford to be so generous,’ he said coldly. ‘Both with your time and the materials. Which I obtained for you, I may add. If you are giving it away then you will have to reimburse me for the paint and canvas.’

      Evie’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. ‘I don’t believe I heard you say that,’ she hissed at him. ‘Of all the callous, hardhearted, СКАЧАТЬ