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picked up a paintbrush for years. It was lucky. I suppose it helped that I know the subject’s face better than I know my own. I promise you would be disappointed if I tried to do portraits of your sons.”
    “My sons?” Louisa Trebarwen gave a little giggle. “Who said anything about my sons? Darling, I don’t want portraits of those great ugly lummoxes. They both grew out of their looks a very long time ago. Serena, you’ll have to get used to me. When I refer to my ‘babies,’ I am talking about my dogs.”
    Dogs were an altogether different matter. Serena could easily paint dogs. Later that same afternoon, when she had picked up Katie from school, Serena dropped by Trebarwen House to meet her new subjects. Louisa was delighted to meet Katie, and Katie was instantly smitten with Louisa’s beloved pets. They were two rather regal-looking greyhounds, called Berkeley and Blackwater Bess.
    “I got them from a greyhound rescue charity,” Louisa explained. “They both raced when they were young, but now that they’ve retired, they’re actually the ideal companions for older people like me. They don’t need half so much exercise as you would imagine.”
    As if on cue, Berkeley opened his mouth and curled his tongue in an extravagant yawn.
    “How would you like to paint them?” Louisa asked. “You’re the artist, so I’m giving you free rein.”
    Serena thought for a moment. “How about I paint them together, standing at the top of the steps leading down to the garden with a stormy sky in the background. A cloudy sky would be the perfect way to highlight the sheeny gray of their coats.”
    “That sounds wonderful,” said Louisa.
    Serena set to work that very day. While Louisa took Katie all over the house and even let her ride the delicate old rocking horse that had carried Trebarwen children since the nineteenth century, Serena got out her somewhat outdated digital camera and took a few snaps of the dogs. Then she headed outside and took some more snaps of the garden to help her make a start on the portrait’s composition. There was little hope that the dogs would stand still on the step for real. It was hard enough to get them to stand at all. They really were the most amazingly lazy creatures.
    A week later, Serena had completed a number of preliminary sketches and let Louisa choose the composition she liked best. Then it was time to transfer the sketches onto canvas. Serena asked Louisa how big the painting should be. She would order the canvas online.
    “Hmmm. Actually, I was wondering if you could paint over this?” Louisa asked as she produced a Victorian portrait of a rather dour-looking man.
    “But that … I can’t …”
    “It’s not a family portrait,” Louisa explained. “I think I found him at a fête in 1973.”
    Louisa quickly became a friend. Serena set up her easel in the drawing room of the big house so that she could look out on the garden as she filled in the background. Louisawas always happy to have Katie around. Katie was delighted to have so many dusty old rooms to roam in.
    “I rarely see my grandchildren,” she sighed. “My eldest son’s wife doesn’t like me. God knows if the youngest will ever breed. He doesn’t seem to be able to commit to any one woman for more than a month. He takes after his father. Couldn’t keep his pecker in his pants for a minute, that one …”
    It was odd, but listening to Louisa’s stories about her feckless ex-husband was strangely comforting. Serena liked Louisa very much, and the knowledge that she too had been a victim of infidelity reassured Serena that it happened to the best of people. It didn’t mean that she was a loser.
    And so for the first time since Tom had walked into the kitchen and announced that he wanted out of their marriage, Serena felt as though she had reason to smile. Katie was happy. Serena had a great new friend in Louisa. And then there was her work. She had forgotten the most important reward of