In the Shadow of the Trees Read Online Free PDF Page B

each other, then clung together like tadpoles in a shark pool. At first we shared a room on campus, then moved into a grotty rental in town shared withthree others, where we subsisted on endless pasta, overdue rent and a bottle of cheap plonk when anyone sold a painting. They were the best days.
    Most of the students produced and sold work commercially to eke out their allowance. I, on the other hand, refused to compromise my art for the sake of a few extra bucks. As a result I was permanently broke and made up for it by doing most of the cooking and housework.
    Sally painted, usually portraits. Commissions came easily, so it was usually Sally who supplied the wine. Even then she had an eye for people, or maybe it was more an intuitive knowledge of what goes on inside. Sally was our Wise Woman; she always knew what was hurting and how to heal it. As an artist she seemed to capture the essence of a person with just a few strokes of charcoal. Maybe that, too, was a kind of healing. And when she painted she did things with light that made your spine tingle.
    After we all graduated Sally and I stayed together. She saw me through the first frustrating years of work and my tempestuous break-up with Andrew. Meanwhile she quietly established her own studio and built herself a name. Naturally she was my appointed guide and mentor on the merry-go-round with Jason so there was no surprise when I turned up on her doorstep, all red-eyed and puffy-faced and carrying bunches of soggy tissues.
    ‘So, what went wrong?’
    ‘Oh, nothing. Everything.’
    ‘I’ve made us some green tea. Here, drink it and tell me what happened.’
    ‘I’d rather have coffee.’
    ‘You’re getting tea. It’ll calm you down. So what’s he done this time?’
    ‘Like—he asks people to stay without my knowing. I find strangers in my apartment, eating my food, and Jason’s nowhere in sight.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘He has parties without telling me. I come home late, wanting to go to bed and the house is full of people. God, Sally, this tea is disgusting.’
    ‘It’s good for you. Drink it. So, what else?’
    ‘And you know he does drugs. I’m not really into that.’
    ‘Oh, come off it Regan, I’ve seen you stoned.’
    ‘OK, I smoke a little weed occasionally, but that’s all. Jason’s into other stuff. I don’t like it or what it does to him. And I don’t like the friends that go with it.’
    ‘Sounds to me like typical teenage behaviour.’
    ‘Yes, well I’m sure he has stuff stashed somewhere in my flat. I can’t afford that sort of publicity. The press already have me typecast as some kind of arty social rebel. Besides, he’s not a teenager. In lots of ways he’s more mature than I am. He knows the art world better than I do. I sort of rely on him.’
    ‘Well, I know you don’t like me saying this, but I still think he’s using you.’
    ‘To do what, for heaven’s sake? He’s got more money than I have. He’s the one with all the influential friends. It’s not as if he can’t find work.’
    ‘Yes, but you’re flavour of the month, the name on everyone’s “got to see” list. I’ve seen the way he parades you about. It’s like he owns a champion racehorse.’
    ‘No, that’s not fair. He can be really kind and thoughtful—’
    ‘And selfish and inconsiderate. But then I don’t trust him, as you know. Drink your tea.’
    ‘He understands my work and—’
    ‘And you have great sex. Not that that would influence you.’
    ‘OK, so we have great sex, that’s not important.’
    ‘Oh, really? That’s not what you said last week.’
    ‘No. Really. There’s more to him than that.’
    ‘Regan, you’re so mixed up. Your whole world’s been turned upside down these last few months. It’s not surprising you can’tsee past him. Look, what do you want? I mean really want. Right at this moment.’
    The answer leapt straight into my head, although I tried to cover it over with something easier. In the end I had to say