Milly Scott Pt. 01: The Artist and the Cop

She looked puzzled and so did Ben. “You charge for autographs?”

“Actually no, I sign all of my prints on the front and that’s included in the price, but you’re getting a special deal and the pound will go towards the club that Bob here runs for disadvantaged kids.” They both laughed and the woman rolled up a five pound note to put in the collection tin.

I chatted to her for a while before she left delighted with her purchase. I felt good, my first autographed picture.

“Thanks Milly, that was funny. You need to show your ‘Despair’ picture to Daniel. It may be too different from your other work for the show, but it’s excellent. I gather you met Jenny.”

“Yes, it was odd and I enjoyed chatting with her.”

“She mentioned her ‘mystery woman’ many times, but she never gave me any details so I could never connect her woman with my Milly.”

I laughed at him, “My Milly?”

“Yes, ‘my Milly.’ And I thank the lord that it was me who you showed your work to or I would still be a pauper, still exploiting starving artists. Seriously, Jenny asked me for your phone number, but I wouldn’t give it to her.”

“Why?” That puzzled me.

“You can give her your number if you want, but it’s not my place to hand it out. She asked me to give you this.” He handed me a business card -- Detective Constable Jenny Nelson. It had her mobile number on the back.

“I wonder what she wants,” I said barely out loud.

“You can ask her yourself,” he smiled and pointed to the street. Jenny was looking at one of my sketches in the window. She came to the door and as she stepped in she looked up. She blushed when she saw me.

“Oh Milly, hello,” she looked at Ben and raised her eyebrows in a question. “Hi Ben, how are you?”

“Great love.” By chance a customer entered behind Jenny. Ben dashed away, a little quickly.

“So how are you?” she asked.

“Good actually. Really good. Your ears must be burning. We were just talking about you. Ben says you want my number?” I raised my own eyebrow.

“I enjoyed speaking to you the other evening and I know that you don’t have many friends here. Maybe we can get a drink sometime?” If she’d gone down on her knees I don’t think it would have been possible to plead any harder. I smiled inwardly. She was nice and she was right I needed a friend.

“I’ll text you my number later, maybe some time at the weekend depending on your shifts.”

She looked relieved, “Great I’ll check and get back to you. Bye.” She dashed off.

Ben came over. “I think that she only came in here to see if you’d been in. You could do worse if you’re looking for a friend.”

I told him how kind she was when Alex died. We chatted for a while before I went to do some shopping and head home.

As it was Jenny couldn’t get away from work that weekend and we agreed to try again the following one.

The Preacher

Sunday dawned clear and bright so I set off for a walk without a destination in mind. I headed along the road to the next village, where I’d met the Vicar, and heard the church bell as I got near. I’d intended heading further along the road, but I stopped at the gate. Something drew me inside. I sat in the back row and listened.

Alan, the Vicar, had a strong voice and spoke clearly, with confidence, about his faith. His sermon was one of helping other people and of kindness, the things that he’d showed me in our brief interaction. The hymns were familiar and during the prayers I said one for Alex. Neither of us were church goers, but it seemed right for me to say thanks to someone for the gift of a person that I’d loved so much, however briefly and however cruelly she was taken from me. I shed a tear or two, but that was a drop in the ocean when compared to the number that I’d shed over the last four years.

Alan spoke about a community project he was setting up and asked his congregation to give generously as the collection was going to that cause. He spoke with passion and I’m sure the collection plate would be full that day. I added a note as it passed and I slipped away as soon as the service finished.

I decided not to walk on, but head back home and called in at the pub for a roast beef sandwich and a beer. Bob was there and of course I refilled his glass to receive his, by now, customary, “Thanks lass,” and a wink. As I sat in the corner with my food I took out the small sketch pad that I always carry with me and roughed out an idea. Suddenly I felt driven to do something with my idea and hurried away.

In the sun room I set up my easel with a large sheet of paper. It took me half an hour to rough out my idea. I made tea and stared at the sketch as I drank. The tea was put aside and I took up my pencil and worked with a vigour that I seldom used when drawing.

When I stepped back I picked up my mug only to find the tea stone cold. Time had meant nothing as I’d worked, but it was good, even I could see that.

A couple of days passed and I went back to the drawing several times, I added nothing. I fired up my laptop and sent a message to the Vicar asking him to call me. Two hours later he did.

“Hi Alan, I’d like to call round and speak to you about something.”

“I’m calling on another parishioner after lunch and she’s only a few yards from you so perhaps I could call on you when I’m finished.”

About 2.30, I heard his knock on the door and invited him in. “Hello, cup of tea?”

“No thanks, I get so much tea and I’ve just had two cups. I saw you in church on Sunday.”

“Yes, by chance I was passing and came in. I enjoyed it, it reminded me of my childhood and I liked your sermon - helping others.”

“That’s so important, kind of my job description. But that’s not why you wanted to speak to me is it?”

I smiled at him, “Partly I suppose, I agree that helping others is important and your community project sounded exciting. I had an idea and I’d like to show you something.”

He followed me to the sun room and I flipped the cover sheet off of my sketch. For a moment his eyes went wide and then his mouth opened. He looked at me and exclaimed, “That.... that’s me! That’s astonishing!”

I had drawn the interior of the church from where I’d been sitting. It included the backs of the congregation’s heads, all staring towards the pulpit. I’d exaggerated the height of the pulpit so it was very dominant and there on the pulpit was the vicar in his robes, his arms outstretched almost as if he was being crucified or appealing to the Lord for some miracle.

“Like it?” I asked.

He didn’t respond, he stood there mouth open studying it, then he turned and looked at me, “Maybe a whisky? Yes, yes a whisky, please.” I went to fetch a glass and the bottle. He took two sips and then a gulp.

“Milly, I don’t know what to say. This is astounding, beautiful. You’re a genius.” He lifted his glass to me.

“I think it may actually be the best thing that I’ve ever produced.”

“I’ve not seen that much of your work, but that would have to be the best that I’ve seen.”

“You spoke about helping others and you’ve been kind to me. I want to gift this to you, for your project.”

“I don’t understand,” he sighed.

“You could sell it to raise money or raffle it. You may have ideas when you get chance to think about it. But I have a couple of ideas if you’d like to hear them.”

He simply nodded and sipped his whisky.

“You could give it to Ben to sell. But I may be having a show in London and if I do I may be able to include it and give you the proceeds. It might make more than Ben selling it. You could also ask Ben to sell prints and postcards and I’m sure that he’d give you the share of the sales that he gives to me. It might make a few hundred pounds.”

“That’s very generous of you. I need to keep a copy of this for myself. It seems very powerful.”

“It’s what I saw and felt that day. Something helped me. Do you have any idea what that might have been?”

He smiled at me, “I think that you know what my answer to that would be, but perhaps it was Alex. There is love, compassion and energy in that picture.” He took it in again. “Thank you so much.”

I felt great after he left and the following day I took the work to show Ben. “You’re right, that will make more in London, but I’d be happy to help Alan. He’s a good man and his project is worthwhile. But that picture is astonishing Milly, that and ‘Despair’.

Friends

Jenny told me that she and her friends were going to the pub in the village the following evening and they asked if I wanted to join them. I didn’t give her an immediate answer and told her that I’d need to think about it. How would this go? I knew very little about them, so why would they want to meet me? I was apprehensive and my instinct was to decline.

The next morning I was out walking and still mulling their invitation over. I had no friends here, other than Jenny. Would meeting new people be such a bad thing? I was scared, but decided to go.

I was about ten minutes late getting there and spoke briefly with Reg and Bob before Jenny came over. “Hi, I thought maybe you’d decided against it.” She smiled at me and gripped my arm lightly for reassurance.

“Jenny, I have to tell you that this is a little scary, but here I am.” I smiled and ordered a drink and one for Bob of course.

“Ladies,” Jenny spoke to her pals, “this is my friend Milly. She lives here now and as you know I met her a few years ago after her partner died. Milly, we’re all friends from school and for some reason stick around together. That is Clare and Liz who finally managed to tie the knot three years ago, after a great deal of dithering. Then Susie who I share a flat with. We’re lucky that she’s here tonight and not on the prowl seeking out desperate men.” The three of them laughed and Susie punched Jenny.

“Actually Milly I’m the straight one here and I’ve had to look after your pal Jenny for the last few years after her last girlfriend kicked her out. For a guy as well. But you’re welcome and thank Christ she spotted you; she’s been driving us nuts wondering what happened to you. Maybe now she’ll resume a normal life.” That puzzled me slightly.

They told me a little about themselves, all in good humour and with lots of ribbing. It was clear that they felt great affection for each other. They probed me gently and as the evening wore on I felt safe enough to open up a little. After telling them about how Alex and I got together they all went quiet for a moment or two. Then Liz broke the silence, “It sounds like a bit of a fairy tale and it’s clear from the way that you speak about Alex that you loved her very much.”

“I did and I still do. I miss her every day.” I paused, “But life, as they say, goes on and I’ve resolved to try and get on with things. The trouble is I’ll keep trying to compare everyone with her and that would be a poor foundation for a relationship.”

Susie smiled at me, “But Jenny here is sad and desperate, despite being not such a bad person. You could do worse.” Both Jenny and I blushed; Clare and Liz looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Liz adding, “Well that’s one hell of an endorsement.”

Actually it was a really good night and I enjoyed their company. At the end of the evening we went our separate ways and I kissed each of them on the cheek. I wandered down the lane feeling pretty good. The problem was when I looked at the picture of Alex on the bedroom wall. I doubted that anyone could compare to her. I liked Jenny. I liked her a lot. She was lovely, funny, caring and attractive. She would be a good partner or girlfriend for someone. But how could she ever replace Alex for me?

I’d had a couple of conversations with the London gallery owner, Daniel. He liked to promote new artists work and had fallen in love with mine when he’d been in Ambleside on holiday. He wanted ten or twelve of my pieces, which he would frame, to show along with half a dozen other artists works. He held open evenings at his gallery a few times a year and invited guests who liked to buy art. Daniel had insisted that it would be a good way of me getting far more exposure than I could at Ben’s gallery with its occasional walk-in wanting to spend a few pounds. No promises, he said, but how could it hurt? I agreed.

I saw quite a lot of Jenny over the next few weeks. We went out to dinner, movies, the theatre and I met with her friends again. I had fun with her and occasionally we hooked arm in arm. But it never went further than that.

Then there was the day that we went shopping together. She needed a new suit for work and I wanted a couple of new skirts and a smart dress for my exhibition in London. We were doing really well and had spent a fortune by the time we stopped for lunch and I only needed to get my dress. Jenny looked at me with a serious face.

“Can I ask you a question, you don’t have to answer?”

“I don’t know unless you ask,” I smiled.

“Before you met Alex you’d never fancied a girl, then you realised that you’d fallen in love with her?” I nodded.

“Could you fancy a guy at some point in the future or are you still......”

It was clear that she couldn’t find the right words. “I don’t know if I’m still gay or bi and I don’t know if I could fancy a guy. My experiences with them were never very good and only after finding Alex did the two of us realise what we’d been missing. So I don’t know. But my inclination is I’m gay. But who’d put up with me still mourning and miserable, maybe in time......” I let it hang.

We found a fancy shop and the two of us giggled at some of the creations. Jenny found a gorgeous pale-blue silk dress in my size and she dragged me to the changing room. I couldn’t reach the zipper easily and asked her to help. She closed the zip and stood behind me as I checked myself in the mirror. She touched my shoulder to straighten the strap, her fingers lingered and then moved down my arm. When she caught my glance in the reflection, she suddenly snatched her hand away as if she had been burned. I knew why. There was something in her touch, something that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I think she felt it too. She blushed and mouthed “Sorry.”

I checked the dress again and decided that this was what I wanted. I turned to Jenny and asked her to help with the zip again. She hesitated and then pulled it down. I turned and looked at her, “It’s okay. It was nice.” I said nothing else; I didn’t know what to say. But I knew that I now had something to ponder.

Over the next few days I gave that touch a great deal of thought. In fact I struggled to think of anything but that touch. It reminded me of when Alex touched me right back at the beginning, when we didn’t know. Alex’s touch would become different, assured and sexy. But when Jenny touched me it had that feeling immediately, something that made me shiver, something that I liked. Did I want to feel it yet again? With Jenny? I decided that I did, but I had to let it simmer for a while. I was scared to move forward and terrified of hurting Jenny.

The Visit

With that decision made, I could focus on what needed to be done in my cottage. Jess and Victoria were coming. I did all the housework and changed my bed. I dashed to the shops to get everything that I thought I might need over the next few days. It was early afternoon when I got a text message from Jess. They would be here about 3pm.

I hadn’t seen Jess or Victoria for almost four years, although I’d kept in touch through letters, emails and regular phone calls. I’d cried on the phone to the two of them a few times, but they’d been supportive, listened and made suggestions. Without them life would have been even more of a challenge than I’d made it for myself. They were coming for the weekend after having been talking about it for long enough.

They planned what they wanted to do during their visit, a little walking and to see some of the lakes. I had plans for their evenings and I was excited.

I heard their car and Jess leapt from the passenger seat and ran towards me. She kissed me, hugged me and was in tears, “Oh Milly, thank goodness it’s been far too long.”

Victoria waved to me and grabbed both their handbags and a bunch of flowers. She walked purposefully, still an elegant, attractive, very clever woman. She wore her hair up with a beautiful skirt in some sort of silk teamed with a pale cream blouse. Style, as ever she, oozed style.

“Hi Milly here we are. Eventually.” She leaned into me and held me with her arm round my waist, “It’s good to see you and looking well.”

I smiled. “Good things come to those who wait,”

Jess said, “You’ve waited long enough girl.” With that I helped them with their bags and settled them in my bedroom which would give them more space. I put the flowers in a vase and made tea, which I took to the sun room. Jess came in first. I’d not noticed her clothes when I first saw her. She wore a skirt that was rather short. But she had great legs. Her blouse was nicely cut and showed off a bust which was also very much worth looking at.

We caught up on what we’d been doing while we had tea and when that was done I fetched the wine. When she had her glass Jess stared at me. “So tell me about this Jenny.”

They knew how we’d first met and then how she spotted me in the village’s pub. They knew that we’d become friends, “She’s lovely, kind, a good listener, funny. I like her a lot. But I worry about comparing her, anyone, to Alex. It is not a good basis for a relationship is it?”

“Maybe not, but how does she feel?” Victoria was cutting to the chase as usual.

“I don’t know. I think she fancies me. Last week we were shopping and when she helped me to zip up a dress I felt something just from a slight touch that I’ve not felt for a long time. I’ve thought about it and her ever since. I want to let it stew. But I know I need to do something.”

We talked about it for a while and then I added, “I’ve asked her for dinner on Sunday evening if that’s okay?”

“So that we can give her a seal of approval?” Jess ginned again.

I replied, “Maybe, but tell me about the girls.”

Jess and Victoria had two girls fathered by Victoria’s ex-husband, it’s a complicated story.

“Jane started at the local high school a few months ago. Fiona is two years younger and still at primary school. So they’re apart again. The two years that Jane was first at school and Fiona was at home were pretty tricky and they don’t like being apart like that again now. Fiona wants to try and learn everything that Jane has and finds it frustrating.” It was clear that Jess was very proud of them.

Victoria smiled, “They have Jess’s eyes and I guess that they’ll look like her in a few years.” Victoria touched Jess’s arm and Jess gave her a subtle smile, which was enough to show how much they loved each other, which I already knew. “They’re very smart girls, very active and love trying new things. It started out that Jane was protective of Fiona, but there’s a shift in progress so that the roles will be reversed soon. Fiona likes to tease me and I love it, but I’d never admit it to her.”

“I’d love to meet them.”

“Come for a few days and we can let you have them for a few hours,” offered Jess.

“Don’t you mean we could let them have Milly?” That comment puzzled me, but I was distracted by her next question.

“Have you been back?”

“Not since I sold the house and sorted out Alex’s affairs, no.” It was sad to have left my home town, but there were too many memories.

Victoria looked serious, “I saw your parents a few weeks ago, not that they saw me, but they looked older.”

“After the funeral and I’d got everything packed up I decided that I had to give it one more try. They let me in the house, but it was apparent that they hadn’t shifted. When I told them that Alex had died their response was horrible and they said things that I would never repeat. But it was to the effect that God was taking revenge on her, on us. I turned and walked away, I don’t care if I ever see them again. They have no idea where I live and that’s the way that I want it.” I was scowling now at the thought.