Last Christmas (8 page)

“I’m actually spending it with the Crosleys. My parents died in a car crash five years ago. Jimi’s away on business so I’m spending it with Libby.”

“Oh Ella, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that your parents had passed away.”

“It’s okay. Well obviously it’s not okay, it’s hard. But, well you learn to live with it,” she said, leaning back on her chair, becoming aware again of Luigi’s clattering of pans. “I try to focus on my memories of my mother and father and not of the pain of the past five years. I talk about them but I don’t really talk about
it
to anyone, anymore.”

Fergus understood that
it
must be a reference to the car crash and could see that Ella did not want to divulge any more on the matter. She looked fidgety, moving around restlessly in her chair. He squeezed her hand and tried to change the subject for her sake.

“So where is your brother for business then? What does he do?”

“He is a doctor and he has a medical convention in Prague,” she said, visibly relaxing. “He sent me some photos the other day. It looks so beautiful at this time of year.”

“Oh, I bet it must be with all the Christmas markets and the striking buildings topped with snow dusted spirals,” he replied.

“Mmm,” she nodded while taking a sip of her wine. “I’m so jealous they’ll have snow.”

“Me too. Wouldn’t it be lovely if the snow falling now settled and we had a White Christmas?”

“Oh I would adore it, just so long as it wasn’t so thick I couldn’t drive out to the Crosley’s in Kent.”

Luigi interrupted them with the arresting smell of bubbling tomato, crisped chicken and freshly chopped parsley.

“‘Ere you go. Youra last dish!” He placed the plate in the middle of the table, between the silvery candles that were burning brightly.

“Oh thank you so much!” Ella cried in excitement.

“My pleasure! Now I musta leave you to enjoy all ayour harda worka!”

Fergus and Ella got up to thank Luigi for such a pleasant evening and Fergus showed him to the door. When he came back to the table, Ella had poured them some more wine and raised her glass for a toast.

“Here’s to a magical week!”

“And, to a White Christmas!” he replied hopefully as they chinked glasses.

After they recovered from their feast, they set to work on the mulled wine. Fergus put on some music while Ella stirred the pot of stewing spices. They were a little tipsy as they maneuvered around the kitchen clearing up the mess they had created. They hummed along and moved lightly to the sweet sounds of Nat King Cole’s voice as he smoothly sung ‘The First Noël’. Ella tasted the mulled wine and deemed it ready. It was scrumptious, with the perfect balance of orange, cinnamon and cloves. She offered a spoonful to Fergus to try over the cooker. He took a sip and beamed.

“It’s divine,” he whispered as he stared into her eyes.

He turned off the hob, put his arms around Ella’s tiny waist and kissed her passionately as the King sang something about snow and mistletoe.

His hands moved over her hips, tickling her slightly through the silk material of her dress that clung to her skin. She ran her hands through his hair and they started walking backwards away from the cooker. They bumped into the island as they kissed with their eyes closed and stumbled through to the living room. Fergus took Ella’s hand and led her to bedroom.

Chapter Seven

Ella woke up with Fergus’ muscular arms wrapped around her body. She opened her eyes and saw his sleepy face staring back at her. The dark and cozy room smelt of pine and the fading scent of Fergus’ musty cologne.

“Good morning you,” he whispered.

“Morning,” she croaked, her throat dry from last night’s wine.

“It’s your big day today,” he said, brushing a strand of her hair from off her face. “I’m excited to finally see some of your paintings.”

“Oh yes. I’m a little bit nervous,” she admitted. “I hope enough people come.” Ella yawned and stretched across the bed.

“Hey, where are you going?” he said, playfully pulling her back towards him. “It’s going to be a
huge
success. Now, would you like some breakfast?”

“I’d love some coffee please.” They kissed lightly on the lips and Fergus moved to open the curtains while Ella straightened out the duvet on her side of the bed.

Light flooded the room and they were temporarily blinded by the brightness. All they saw was white.

“Snow!” Fergus exclaimed.

It took Ella a few seconds to adjust and realize that the white before her wasn’t just the daylight appearing stronger because of the prior darkness of the room, it was snow laid thickly as far as the eyes could see.

“Ah! Snow! Ohh it’s so beautiful!” she said happily. She observed the street in all its snowy glory; the Victorian town houses doused in a sprinkling of snow, the pavement covered in a layer a few inches deep and the children on their school run with snowballs in hand.

Fergus held Ella from behind as they looked joyfully over the snowy scene in front of them.

“Our wish might have worked Ell.”

“It seems it has. I hope it stays until Christmas Day. Oh, but I hope everybody can still make it to the gallery tonight.”

“I’m sure they will.”

Ella got dressed while Fergus made a pot of coffee. When she came into the kitchen wearing her silky black dress from the night before, Fergus couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello sexy,” he said, looking up from the coffee he was pouring into two small orange espresso cups.

“Hi,” Ella replied with a smirk. The rich aroma of freshly ground Columbian coffee woke Ella up a little but it wasn’t strong enough to mask the lingering spices and stale acidic smell of the mulled wine.

“I can still smell the mulled wine,” she said.

“Mmm. Pungent! It’s a shame we didn’t drink any. Well not that much of a shame …”

Ella blushed a little.

“Want some?” he joked.

“I musn’t. I’m on a wine-free breakfast diet at the moment,” she teased in reply. “But I must leave after this.” She gestured to the coffee. “I have a lot to sort at the gallery before this evening.”

“Of course.” They sipped their coffee in the living room while Ella looked at Fergus’ photographs. The wall behind his sofa was lined with black and white prints she hadn’t had the opportunity to look at the night before. Most of his photos were filled with dust, dirt, destruction and despair. They were beautiful in their simplicity but harrowing at the same time. Ella noticed that his photos were taken from unique angles but they weren’t artificial in any way. He used a film camera and as such didn’t edit his photographs in an attempt to turn them into something they were not. No photoshop, no lies.

Fergus watched Ella look at his walled collection and wondered what she thought of them. She had observed them in silence for a few minutes, which was beginning to unsettle him.

“These are magnificent Fergus. You are
so
so
talented. I love this one especially.”

She pointed to a portrait of an old Iraqi man. He was slouching asleep on a chair at his post. His right hand was clasping the body of a large machine gun against his chest and his other arm had gone limp in his sleepy state. It had fallen away from his body sloping down to the dusty ground and his palm was facing upwards. Next to his open hand was a small bird pecking at the barren earth. It almost looked like the man was feeding this little creature while he was asleep.

“I’m glad you like them,” Fergus said.

“I do. I think they are all phenomenal. I’d love to see more of them when I have more time.”

“Any time,” he said as they sipped the last of their coffee. Fergus returned the mugs to the kitchen while Ella fetched her coat from the hangers by the front door.

“Good luck with all the preparations today. I’ll see you later.” Fergus leant in to kiss Ella and held her fast in his arms. Ella did not want this kiss to end, she wanted to relive last night and crawl back into bed with him but she knew today was not the day. She had to get back to her apartment to change and head straight to the gallery.

She finally tore herself from his arms and said goodbye. She walked down the stairs leading to the ground floor and opened the main building door to the snow-covered street. She skipped down the steps to the pavement and floated to Highbury and Islington tube station with an absurdly wide grin on face and a spring in her step.

*

Ella arrived at the Beat Gallery at eleven o’clock. She walked through the spacious venue that had once been an old Victorian railway station. It was the perfect space for a contemporary art exhibition; it’s enormous arched ceilings provided enough space for the larger paintings in her collection. Her pieces were leant against the walls where Ella presumed they were to be hung. Ella saw the gallery staff, Sophie, Guy and Daisy discussing something, pointing and gesturing passionately towards different corners of the gallery.

“Ella, hi!” a tanned voluptuous figure called from the opposite end of the gallery. This was Celia, the gallery manager. She was holding an armful of small brown parcels that she put on the table closest to her. She glided over to Ella.

“Hello Celia! How are we all?” Ella asked, waving at the others in the gallery.

“Fantastic! The others were just discussing where each painting should go. We thought we’d wait for you to arrive before we hung any.” Celia smiled, flashing a perfect set of white teeth. Her uniform teeth shone brightly against her molasses-coloured skin and her amethyst eyes burned vibrantly.

“Great. Thank you Celia. You’ve all done a great job. The gallery looks magnificent and so Christmassy!”

The gallery staff had found some unique fairy lights that could be hung vertically from the ceiling. They bought and installed three hundred of these individual lights that now dangled down to just above everyone’s heads. The function was threefold; to illuminate the paintings, to make the gallery look festive and to fill up some of the space in the venue. They looked marvelous even in the daylight and Ella could tell that when it was dark outside and the main gallery lights were switched off, the place was going to look magical with these glowing orbs.

“So do you like the positions of the paintings? Can we put them up?” Celia asked. Ella walked over to Daisy, Guy and Sophie who were huddling around ‘Toasted Sunset’. The brush strokes of burnt orange were bursting into life, flaming wildly in the well-lit gallery.

Ella walked through the gallery several times; she moved from the front door, down the winding corridor-shaped room and back again. The room was tall and narrow with brilliant white walls and one sea-blue feature wall. Makeshift walls had been erected in the middle of the room where more of her paintings were to be shown. The structure created two channels so guests would have to walk through one corridor and back up the other or they could snake through the middle where was a slight gap in the middle, semi-permanent wall. This layout had been cleverly designed. It meant that most paintings could be seen from all angles of the room so viewers could either focus on the painting in front of them or turn to see the whole collection at once.

Seeing the paintings in their places was making Ella excited. Her very first exhibition! She had waited so long for this moment. She had worked so hard for the last few years behind the scenes at the Triangle gallery and now it was all coming to fruition. If it went well she might be able to work fewer days in the gallery and devote more time to being an artist in her own right. Taking the leap to professional artist was risky. It wasn’t a stable job and it wouldn’t be lucrative unless she was very lucky and in the right place at the right time. She felt tremendous appreciation for her colleagues at the Triangle Gallery. They had helped her to secure this exhibition as they had praised her artwork to the Beat Gallery’s owner and told him to check out her art.

Luckily, the owner took to Ella’s paintings and now she was standing in London’s coolest, newest, most talked about gallery with her paintings on the wall!

Ella was staring at the ceiling that was ablaze with fairy lights. She had her hand over her mouth trying to contain the sheer joy she was feeling. She was awestruck. Things were starting to go her way again. Her career, her love life …

“Erm, Ella? What do you think to the arrangement then? Do you not like it?” Daisy inquired nervously.

“Oh no, I love it!” Ella gasped, returning to reality. “Sorry I was just … I was just thinking about this evening.”

“So are you happy with how it is? Shall we start fixing them?” Guy asked gruffly. The red rings around his eyes warned Ella that he was not in a good mood. He looked tired and in dire need of a coffee. Had he been out last night or was he being over-worked by the gallery? Ella hoped it wasn’t because of her exhibition. Things were already awkward enough between them; ever since Guy had asked her on a date that had led nowhere, they felt uncomfortable in each other’s presence. After Ella had broken up with Robbie, Guy asked her out repeatedly until she finally said yes. Ella knew she only saw Guy as a friend and that going on a date wouldn’t change that, but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse him a fourth time and she had thought it might be a good distraction from her heartbreak. They had had a lovely time at a concert on Primrose Hill, but Ella had made it clear at the end of the evening that she didn’t see Guy in a romantic way.

“Yes, I am happy. They all look wonderful,” she replied in as cheery voice as she could manage. “Thank you Guy,” she added tenderly.

“Great, come with me Ella.” Celia beckoned her to come into the gallery office and she followed without pause.

They stood in the doorway of the office, talking business. Celia was sifting through guest lists and reminding Ella who were the most important guests of the evening. As she spoke, Ella was overlooking the painting hanging. While Celia was twiddling with her hair and chatting on about
saddling
up
to
the
right
contacts
, Ella noticed that something wasn’t quite right. She had just seen one of her paintings from a new angle.

“Sorry guys,” she called out to the team. “I’ve just noticed we have a bit of a colour block over there. The background of that feature wall is very blue and just in front of it is ‘Midnight Water’. I think it looks a bit lost there – it’s swamped by its surroundings.”

The others took a step back towards the office where Ella and Celia were standing and squinted at the painting.

“You’re right!” said the high-pitched Sophie. “All those lovely blues are swamped by the blue feature wall.”

“Would you mind swapping that one with ‘Dawn II’ please? I think the pinks in that will really stand out against the blue and then we can put ‘Midnight Water’ where ‘Dawn II’ was on the white wall. They are roughly the same size so it should fit,” Ella replied thoughtfully.

“Of course,” Daisy remarked as the other two followed her to swap the paintings. Ella thought she could hear Guy mumble something under his breath but she didn’t catch it, whatever it was.

*

It took several hours to hang all of the paintings and clean up the gallery. The gallery staff tested the lighting and hung a few more Christmas decorations. Sophie tied bunches of mistletoe amongst the fairy lights hung from the ceiling. Exhausted, the team slumped on the sofas in the office and looked proudly on what they had created. Through the door of the office, they could see the whole room was glowing. The fairy lights bounced off the paintings and added a wonderful festive atmosphere.

“I’ve just got off the phone with Hugh, he’s going to bring some takeaway to the office so we can eat before the opening,” Celia said.

“Great. I’m starving,” Guy replied, perking up a bit.

Ella excused herself and went to the bathroom to change and touch up her make-up. She put on an asymmetrical, Japanese-style, black wrap-around dress. It was made of rough satin and had a silvery shine in some lights.

She took out her YSL mascara but she couldn’t apply it. Her hands were shaking. She was nervous. Would enough people show up? Were they going to like her paintings? Ella steadied her nerves and breathed slowly in and out. She waited until she was slightly calmer before she applied some NARS smoky eye shadow. She curled her eyelashes, coated them lightly in mascara and put on a red-orange MAC lipstick called
Lady
Danger
. It complimented her skin tone and brought out the brown in her eyes. Once she had finished applying her make-up she rejoined the others in the office to be greeted by cries of “Wow”, “You look stunning!” and in Guy’s case, stunned silence with his lower jaw hanging so far open, Daisy actually had to shut it. Clearly, he was still in to her. Ella smiled embarrassingly and thanked everyone.