The Sea Grape Tree Read Online Free PDF

stay here the rest of your life,” she’d said, licking lager from her top lip. It was early afternoon, and Maidstone’s oldest and largest pub was already occupied by the regulars.
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with it,” Sarah had replied, still in awe at Penny’s news that she’d bought her own flat. “I’m perfectly happy—”
    â€œBut you haven’t gone out with anyone since John moved out, what, two, three years ago? I mean, really, Sarah.”
    â€œHe wanted children, Penny, for God’s sake, and you know where I stand on that. We’re still good friends. I wish him the best, honestly, but it was a relief when he left.” Sarah took a sip of her beer. “I’m not in the mood to go out with anyone, to tell the truth. They talk about their jobs and their sports, and I start yawning. I must have dried up or something, it’s just not happening.”
    â€œThey’re probably dull men, that’s all.” Penny played with one dangling earring. “Maybe your friends can introduce you. How many friends do you have here, anyway?”
    â€œI don’t really need friends. I just joined the—”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous. Everyone needs friends. It’s not good to keep things bottled up inside, and you know you tend to do that.”
    â€œLeave me alone, Pen, I’m fine. All I need is my painting and a bit of cash, and I have that all here. Maidstone suits me.”
    â€œNothinghappens here,” her friend said, lowering her voice and looking around. “I mean, this place hasn’t changed in thirty-five years. It still smells the same!” Sarah couldn’t help but laugh, remembering them peering into the pub as children, sniffing the stale beer.
    â€œLook at you,” Penny said and clucked her tongue. “You’re a fan tas tic artist, and what do you do? You only paint in your free time! I would die for your talent, I’m telling you. But you’re like a hollow person here, killing time in Maidstone, marching towards death.” Her friend’s eyes had widened at the thought of a life unlived.
    â€œI’m not—”
    â€œYou won all the art awards in Maidstone Grammar, again in MidKent College, and what are you doing with them? Nothing! You’ve got to move up to London. I mean, what’s holding you back, your mother? You said yourself you only see her once a month. You can do that from London, just hop on the train and come down. It costs a few quid, but you’ll be making more money up there, you know. Seriously, Sassy, you need to come up and get into the art scene on the King’s Road or something. They’ll love your stuff, wait and see. And you definitely can not keep working in that awful restaurant.”
    The cubbyhole in the restaurant where she stuffed her coat and handbag came to Sarah’s mind. “It’s not too bad—”
    â€œWith a maître d’ you call Percy Pervert?”
    â€œThey’re a nice lot, really, and I get good tips. Besides, there’s a new gallery opening up and I have an appointment to meet with them. I’ve painted one or two new things. You never can tell, maybe they’ll appreciate something other than wildflowers.”
    Penny had clunked her glass down on the bar’s counter. “Listen, I have a friend who owns a small gallery in Ken­sington. It’s really posh, high ceilings and classy clientele, you know the type. Let’s show her your work, shall we? Come and visit me for a few days and bring those pieces you’ve painted.”
    In the end, it was Penny’s comment that she was a hollow person—the kind of statement soon forgotten by the speaker but embedded in the listener’s mind—that had pushed Sarah to change the trajectory of her life. Events had followed swiftly: a short visit to Kensington and a contract with Eccentricity, the upscale gallery owned