All That Is Left Of Us. Catherine Miller
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really sorry, Arch. Your auntie and uncle won’t be over today. They’re still settling in with baby. They’re not quite ready to face the outside world yet.’
‘Oh.’ Archie’s shoulders sagged with disappointment.
The movement made Norman scuttle across his tank and Dawn took a step out of the room. She was never going to get used to sharing the flat with a tarantula. The brief distraction gave her an idea.
‘I know we don’t normally do this, but how about we go out for dinner?’ Last weekend they’d had their Sunday roast alone, but they’d known that was going to be the case. Somehow, now David and Rebekah weren’t coming, Dawn wasn’t sure she could muster the energy to cook just for the two of them again and it would be very apparent their guests were absent. If Archie wasn’t comfortable with eating out (she wasn’t able to recall the last time she’d braved it with him), they could always opt for a takeaway to save cooking.
‘Where will we go?’
‘We’ll go to Maureen’s café. She’ll be glad to see you and I can see if any of my pictures have sold. They do lovely roasts. I can ring ahead and book us a table.’ Maureen’s café was one of Dawn’s favourite places within the New Forest. It was a hidden treasure not entirely overrun by tourist trade. She’d been visiting there since Archie was a baby and, with her own mother absent, Maureen was often the closest she had to having a parent close by.
Over the years they’d become firm friends and, at some point, Maureen had offered to display Dawn’s sketches in the café. They were fine-pencil abstract drawings. She would take everyday objects and turn them into a woven fabric of shapes.
Their surreal qualities meant they weren’t everyone’s cup of tea, so Dawn didn’t expect many sales, but whenever they did sell it was a bonus. In fact, her pictures being hung there were exactly the reason Tony the tattoo artist had been in touch about the apprenticeship. He felt she would have a natural talent. She wasn’t so sure, but she wasn’t going to pass on the opportunity.
Archie considered for a moment by staring into Norman’s tank. She hoped her son didn’t think the spider was invited because he really wasn’t. ‘Do they do roast beef?’
‘I’m sure Maureen will do. Hopefully.’
‘We can go if I can have beef.’
‘Fingers crossed,’ Dawn said and actually crossed her fingers. If they didn’t then she would have to scrap any plans to take her son out.
When she rang, thankfully Maureen had both a vacant table in a quiet corner and roast beef on the menu.
By the time they arrived, the lunch crowd were mostly gone and it left them with only a couple of other diners finishing off their pudding. It was perfect and she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t brought Archie before for Sunday lunch. Probably memories of the mealtime meltdowns from the past. They’d been so frequent and all-encompassing that at some point it became so much easier to remain at home, then if the gravy was on the wrong section of the plate he didn’t ruin dinner for them and everyone else around them.
Today, Dawn asked for a jug of gravy on the side and, with knowing the owner well, it didn’t feel much different from dining at home. And when she thought about it, the meltdowns had been dying down for over a year. It was just Dawn continuing to live in fear of their appearance, which was no way to live.
‘I like the new pictures,’ Archie said.
Dawn was thinking so much about how Archie was changing that she’d neglected to pay attention to any of the café’s usual décor. It was very twee. All dollies and plastic tablecloths. In some ways it needed an overhaul to keep up with the chains that were taking over most high streets, but in another way it was absolutely perfect. It matched its beautiful surroundings. A roast in one of the chain pubs wouldn’t have suited Archie, but here he was comfortable. They’d have to come again another Sunday. Looking at the pictures Archie was referring to, she realised that Maureen must have agreed to display for another local artist. At least she assumed they were local with most of the drawings depicting local wildlife, the New Forest ponies featuring heavily. They were mesmerising, their colours capturing the animals and setting in a way that sprung off the canvas. ‘They’re beautiful, aren’t they?’ Dawn said.
‘Can I look at the rest of them?’ Archie asked.
They were the only customers left now. ‘Do you want any pudding? Looks like they have apple crumble on the menu.’
‘Yes, please. So can I look?’
‘Of course – just make sure you don’t knock into anything. I’ll go order us some dessert and you can come back to the table once it’s ready.’
‘Cool.’
Dawn watched her son for a minute as he stared at a picture with a level of intensity most would struggle to find. She marvelled for a moment at the person he was becoming. She was so used to life with him being complex it was hard to relax and appreciate this stage, whatever this stage was.
When Archie moved on to stare at the next picture, Dawn took it as a cue to get up. It wouldn’t help matters if he managed to look at each frame before she’d put their order in.
On the way back from ordering two apple crumbles with custard, Dawn took a closer look at a drawing of a fox. It was an oil painting, a medium she’d never mastered. All of her drawings were pencil sketches. Even though she could draw, she knew little about the different painting techniques, having given up on art when she’d been forced to leave college. It was a natural talent she wanted to use to her advantage, but she was pretty sure she’d never be able to paint with this level of skill. It made her doubt her tattooing apprenticeship before it even started. It was one thing sketching onto paper, but she wasn’t sure about a moving subject.
‘Realistic, aren’t they?’ Maureen came over to chat, the café now being empty of other customers.
‘It almost looks like a photo.’ If Dawn wasn’t so close, she wouldn’t have been able to tell.
‘I hope you don’t mind that I let this chap have some pictures here. I figured as you said you wouldn’t be doing any for a while it would be okay.’
‘Of course. I’m sure you’ll sell lots more this way.’ Maureen took a small percentage of any sales so it made good business sense to have pictures that would have more appeal to the tourist trade they served. It was just a shame hers didn’t have similar appeal.
‘Don’t lose heart, dear. Your drawings are very unique, but I still can’t see you as a tattoo artist.’
‘Neither can I yet,’ Dawn grinned. Perhaps she wasn’t covered in tattoos herself, but she wanted to use her eye for detail in a way that would be appreciated. The apprenticeship would be unpaid, but it would mean she might be able to make something of her talent for sketching out designs. So with the maternity leave she was entitled to as a surrogate, she intended to do a bit of intense training to see if she was any good. Then, when she was back at work, she would continue part-time. It was her hope that eventually she would earn more money as a result. She loved working as a teaching assistant, but it wasn’t giving her the fulfilment she craved. And unfortunately the pictures gathering dust here weren’t either.
‘I’ve got a card for the artist if you’d like one. Maybe he can convince you you’ve got talent. He certainly thought so when he was here.’
‘Really?’
Maureen fetched her a card. ‘He did. You should call him.’ There was a mischievous twinkle in Maureen’s eye as she said it. ‘He was cute,’ she added.
Dawn took the card and slipped it in her pocket, ignoring the fact that Maureen wanted to do some matchmaking. The card might be useful for an unusual Christmas present for Archie, seeing as he was so drawn to the pictures. Peering back at the fox who seemed to have his eye on her, she glanced at the price tag. Seventy-five pounds, the small white cardboard plaque said. That was pretty reasonable for a piece of art, but it was definitely