The Student

Firstly, I want to say a huge thank you to Randi, who provided me with her wonderful editing and advice.

Looking out across the sea of busy faces, I couldn't help but stare. My newest pupil was a stunning looking woman. Not just because she was pretty... I suppose that's how many would see her. Yes, she had beautiful features, a face capable of launching a thousand ships.

There was more to it than that; she exuded a wonderfully inviting presence. She was a genuinely lovely person. For somebody so young, she had a very easy going nature. Not at all like many of her contemporaries.

Elegance, no, it was more than that; she was gracious, and humble without seeming slavish.

It was her eyes that drew me in, welcoming, warm, inviting. Yes, all of the above. Were I ten years younger, I would have been in love; she had that special magnetism...

I sighed softly to myself. "Silly woman, more like twenty years younger," I admonished myself. She must have been nothing more than twenty or so years old. Still, one could dream. I laughed to myself. "More a fantasy, my dear." As I admired her, I sighed again, I didn't even know if she was gay. At forty two, I was still hopeless at picking who was, and who wasn't.

I had been embarrassed enough over the years, and it still made me wonder. Never mind, in this case, it didn't matter. I watched her working on her canvas, brush swirling, paint flowing. She was lost in the moment. I understood that as well. Creating something from nothing more than a memory or an emotion, and creating an artistic masterpiece, it takes all of your focus...

I wandered around the class, offering a little guidance to all that needed, or wanted, advice. I stayed away from Leah. I still wasn't sure how much advice she required or wanted. For my other students, I had over time figured out who wanted words of advice, and who just wanted words of encouragement.

Leah appeared, at least on the outside, to be self motivated, and knew what she wanted. I would wait for her to ask...

The class was a mixture, some elderly retired members, who were there mostly for the company. A few self confessed twiddlers, people who didn't really know what they wanted. A couple of serious students, who were genuinely trying to improve, who wanted advice, not flattery.

I enjoyed working with them; they were the gems. A couple were actually very good, and were starting to show their work at art spaces around town.

As I leaned over Joseph's shoulder, I heard my name being called. "Audrey, if you have a moment, please."

I glanced over at Leah. With that smile, she didn't even have to ask. The room brightened, just from the effort. I wandered over to have a look.

"Good heavens, Leah. This is very good," I gushed.

She giggled. "You don't have to massage my ego, Audrey. I was just hoping to get some help with how to develop the reflection on the water."

I leaned in close, our shoulders rubbing together. "I wasn't being obsequious, Leah. I was being serious. This is very good. Obviously not your first time with brush in hand."

She giggled, and my heart raced a little. Her voice, it flowed easily, a wonderfully musical sound, as smooth and effortless as chocolate melting on hot cake. "I have been dabbling since I was a child. I love to paint, but with my studies, I haven't really had much time."

"Leah, you don't need to be in this class, you're already well advanced."

Her face lost the whimsical smile, and she became serious. "Audrey, I need this class more than you know. I live in a flat with several other girls. It's crowded, and there's no peace. Plus, I needed the push. Having paid for the class, I now have to attend... I hope it will keep me motivated."

"I can understand the crowded flat, but I don't see you as lacking motivation."

"Oh, I'm shockingly hopeless. Unless somebody is pushing me, I just run out of enthusiasm, and give up."

Enjoying her presence, I asked, "What are you studying?"

"Business." She sighed painfully.

"Not enjoying it?"

"Oh, god no. I hate it, but my parents pushed me into it. Daddy, in particular, was adamant I must get my degree. He wants me to join the firm."

"I take it you're not so keen?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Oh, god no... I wanted to study the arts, but father was aghast. He said, "Are you out of your mind? An arts degree is worth nothing, I doubt it's worth the paper it's written on. No, you are going to get a degree, and it must be something that will help you in the real world."

"Sorry to hear that. You have a talent, I can see already that you have an artists eye for the world."

"Thanks, but I thought the reflections I was trying for are terrible. Is there a better way?"

"It's more about what to leave out, rather than what to put in."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Where you have fallen down, and this is not a criticism, you're trying to get an exact replication. Reflections should be imperfect, merely an impression of what the eye sees in the painting itself."

She scrunched up her face and nodded, as if she didn't believe, or perhaps agree. "Leah, you're not creating a photographic image, you are creating an image that your mind has created, let that out. Stop trying to be a camera, and let your hands be driven by your imagination."

From the scrunched up face, wondrous thing happened, the frown evaporated, and this beatific smile appeared. Her whole face changed, and I couldn't help but smile with her.

She nodded. "I think I get it. I loved the analogy about the camera. You are so right, that is me..."

I gave her a comforting pat on the back. "You don't need me to tell you that. I'm sure it's something you already knew."

"No, that is not true. I am always like that, trying to recreate exactly what you get in photos."

"Well, stop it. Artists don't produce perfect replications. We create emotional representations of what we feel when we see something. If people want photos, they buy them. When they buy art, they want to see what you saw..."

She sprang into my arms, and kissed me on the cheek. "Thank you, Audrey."

I walked away, my heart pounding in my chest. "Oh my," was all my befuddled mind could say. That girl aroused me so easily. I would have to be more careful around her.

The class was finishing, and most of the artists were finished and packing up. I also was in the midst of packing away the mess left behind. The church was generous enough to let me use the room, but they did expect it to be clean when we left. That meant pushing the broom around and picking up any mess left behind.

As always, a couple of the artists helped out. We usually had a chat while we worked. Gail, and her friend Maggie, who were retired. Loved to talk art.

I noticed Leah stayed and was helping pack away chairs. "You don't have to do that, love," I called out.

She smiled, there it was again. Blast, my heart skipped a beat. She was amazingly beautiful. A cherub. Well, she was in the right building at least.

Gail and Maggie said their goodbyes, and with their arms full, headed out the door.

Leah wandered over and picked up the bag I was holding, trying to pour the contents of a rubbish bin into it. She took the bag from my hands, saying, "Let me help with that."

I poured the rubbish, takeaway coffee cups and sandwich wrappers, into the bag. "Leah, you didn't have to stay and help."

"I was hoping that you might like to come and get a drink with me?" she asked. "There's a pub on the corner, and they do lovely coffee. I know that sounds ridiculous, but none of the cafes will be open at this time of night."

She hesitated, "I mean, we could get a glass of wine, as well, if you're up for it?"

"I don't usually mingle with students, but, yes. It would be nice."

We settled into a booth at the pub, wine in hand. It was difficult to chat, the place was full, and as it's close to the University, the crowd was young and boisterous.

"How are your studies going?" I asked, searching for a conversation starter.

"Awful, but okay." She sighed. "Awful, because I hate business. And okay, because I'm surprisingly good at it. That must be my father's influence. It feels like he has been pushing me towards that my whole life."

"I suppose as parents, that's what we do." God that sounded weak...

"Do you have children?"

"No," I spluttered, far too quickly.

She looked contrite. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"That's okay. I made a decision a long time ago, I didn't want children."

"Fair enough." she said as she sipped her wine. "Are you married?"

I couldn't help but smirk. "I thought you weren't going to pry?"

She returned my look with a skin blistering smile. "Sorry, couldn't help it. I'm nosy, I get that from my mum."

"No, I'm not married."

"Divorced?"

"Gosh, you really are a nosy one." I said, not unkindly. "No, never married."

"In a relationship?"

"Leah, this is a bit personal."

"Sorry, I'm curious by nature. Where did you learn to paint? You obviously know a lot about it."

"I have always loved art. The act of creating something from nothing. I love all forms of art. I completed a fine arts degree at Victoria."

"So, are you an artist, or a teacher?"

"I'm neither. I just run the classes to give people a chance to undertake a passion. The world needs more of it."

"What do you do for a job, if you aren't a teacher?"

"Good heavens. Why this blasted inquisition?" I huffed, beginning to get a little miffed at her questions.

She giggled as she finished her wine with a big gulp. She held out her hand for my glass. "Hurry, I'll get us another."

I finished my glass with a far too hurried gulp, and handed it over. I watched as she skipped, danced, strutted her way to the bar. "Good god in heaven," I mumbled silently.

"What the hell are you doing?" I chastised myself. "She's only half your age."

That was my angelic twin; my devilish twin, who resided on my other shoulder, said, "She is bloody beautiful."

It wasn't just her age; she was bubbly and effusive, in love with life. God, she was only at the bar a minute and men were all over her. I smirked again; I was only jealous, they were doing what I wanted to.

She returned with the wine. She slithered in beside me, rather than sitting opposite me. She slid my glass along the table, and leaned on conspiratorially. "I didn't even have to pay for them."

"That's a bit naughty," I admonished.

"I didn't ask, and made no promises. They were silly enough to think I was interested."

I shook my head in bewilderment. "You are a little minx."

"Right, back to the questioning. What do you do for a living?" She giggled again. "You obviously have money. You dress exquisitely. I love the dress you're wearing. It looks divine, but expensive."

"I have an administrative role with a local company."

She scrunched up her face into a dark scowl. "You're being very vague, elusive even."

"I'm sorry, Leah. I like you, but we have just met. And you are a student."

"Student, god, you say it like there's something at stake. Like I am trying to seduce you to get a better grade." She then laughed softly. "There's no exam is there?"

"What... No, of course not."

She giggled again, and like every other time, her laughter made my heart race, I felt very flushed. "Thank god for that," she gushed.

We both sipped our wines, and she said. "Audrey, I don't see you as a teacher. More a mentor, or guide. The art class, it's not a class as such. I know I paid to attend, but I see you as so much more than a teacher."

"Yes, I suppose I do treat it a bit like a school class. Sorry if that all seems a bit formal."

"Why do you do it?"

That made me look inside. I had asked myself that many times. "Honestly, it started out as a money making exercise. My financial position at the time was a little unsteady. Once I started running the classes, everything seemed to stabilise. Now I do it because I love it. I am able to pass on some of my knowledge."

"You are a painter though? Right."

"Yes, I paint, it is my passion."

She took a large mouthful of her wine before she asked, "Can I see some of your work? Do you have a studio?"

"Yes, I have a studio, but why would you want to?"

She shrugged, finishing her wine with a flourish and holding out her hand for mine.

"Are you purposely trying to get me drunk?" I asked as I shivered, the large gulp overwhelming my taste buds.

"Maybe." She giggled as she danced away to the bar, to be swamped by men. I took the opportunity to look around the room. I was by far the oldest person there. Loud music pounded out from the adjacent bar. This room was filled with the frivolity of youth. All on a mad rush to drunken oblivion, or a hot night with a new lover.

Times were so much freer now. People far more open and accepting. I remembered when I was their age, slinking around gay bars, trying to fit in, fighting for my rights to exist without fear of condemnation, or worse.

Now, it was a different world. Glancing round the pub, most of the crowd were students; sure, as always. There were a few older sleazy men, waiting to pounce on young women if they got drunk enough to lose their dignity, their self-respect.

I was deep in my assessment when Leah returned. This time, she nestled in much closer, the heat of her body causing me to tremble.

She squirmed a little as she leaned in even closer, her mouth touching my ear as she whispered. "If you feel like it, the two guys I was talking to at the bar are interested. If you feel like it, that is?"

I quickly glanced across to the bar, and there were indeed a couple of young men, staring intently at our table. Unshaven, and scruffy. They certainly didn't appeal to me. When I looked back at Leah, she giggled. "I didn't think so."

We settled back, although the heat from her thigh where it touched mine was causing me to become very aware.

"What about you, Leah, a special man in your life?"

She choked on her wine. "No bloody way. I'm having to much fun. I like being single. Not having to explain where I am, or what I'm doing."

"Yes, I certainly understand."

The conversation drifted into the everyday things people talk about. Work, study. Leah did seem very keen on visiting my studio, although I did manage to stall her. Mostly because the young men who brought the drinks arrived at the table.

"Yo, sup, ladies?"

Leah glanced at me before saying, "We're just chilling, enjoying our drinks. Thanks, by the way."

The bearded one replied. "No worries, we were wondering if you might like some company?"

"No thank you," I said with a coldness I tried to mask. The last thing I wanted was to have to listen to their crap. Leah gave me a quizzical glance before she added, "We were just relaxing, guys. Maybe another night."

They looked back and forth before wandering off without a word.

Leh, had a frown etched into her features. "You know, paying for those drinks, probably broke their bank."

"Leah, if you are interested in talking to them, then please do so. I am ready to leave, anyway."

She, answered quickly. "Sorry, Audrey, I was just saying. I usually try to let them down slowly. You know, a gentle nudge, rather than a sharp push over a steep cliff."

"I'm sorry, Leah. I can afford to pay for my own drinks. I don't enjoy listening to silly drunk young men trying to find clever ways to chat me up."

"Wow, chill. I'm sorry if I offended you."

I drank my drink and stood. "I'm not offended, but it is late. I have an early start tomorrow."

She stood up beside me, her eyes downcast. "Sorry, Audrey. I was enjoying our evening. I didn't mean to spoil it."

"Another time, Leah. Thanks for the conversation, it was pleasant." I walked towards the door feeling a little peeved, more so at myself. I was enjoying it as well. I wandered home, feeling disappointed.

A little Nora Jones from the playlist soothed my anxiety. Leah had managed to breach my defences. It had been a long time since I let anybody in. After Rosalyn died, I locked myself away. In fact, I wondered if I would ever love again. She had been the centre of my world. Stolen so cruelly by that horrid disease.

It had been such an acrimonious painful period of my life. Her parents, who hated the fact she was gay, blamed me for leading her into a lifestyle not of her choice. After she passed, her family took over everything. She had no will, and they tried to lock me out of anything. They took control of the funeral, chose only family photos, chose music they liked, but I knew Ros hated.

They removed any hint of my existence, even though we had been living together as partners for ten years. It was like I didn't even exist. They wouldn't even let me speak at the funeral.

I hated it. They stole my chance to say goodbye. I walked away from that day with a promise to never let people in.

Two years later, and I was still struggling. Damn it. I walked into my studio and started a fresh canvas. It was my release, slopping paint around and creating. Yes, I felt better, but when I stood back, reflecting on my creation, Leah's face stared back at me... Where the hell did that come from?

I snickered. "Yes, she got under my skin."

Work was pretty full on. Having my own practice gave me the chance to take the cases I wanted. Financially secure, I now focused on clients who couldn't afford my services. I wanted to help, make peoples lives better. Ironic really, as a lawyer, you'd think it would have been the one thing that my partner in business and life would have nailed down was a will.

Stupidly, we were both so comfortable in our life together, we never wanted to put boundaries or rules around it. We had loved openly and freely. For many years we had been at the forefront of the feminist movement. We used our practice to help fight what we saw as injustice.

Ros was the driving force with our involvement. After her death, I let some of that go. I didn't exactly crawl back into the closet, but after all the vicious acrimony her family threw at me, I lost a lot of confidence. I had to suffer the grieving and their insults.

I couldn't even visit her grave site because they had her cremated...

I knew that wasn't what she wanted, it was their last act of vengeance against me. Luckily, the house we owned together was in my name, and they couldn't touch it.

The practice, however, was ours together, and they did make a very unsuccessful attempt at getting half of it... Thankfully, their attempt failed, and I took great pleasure stretching out the fight and seeing them pour their money into the coffers of another law firm.

I was in the throes of moving chairs and clearing space for the class when Leah walked in. She gave me a cheery wave and started moving chairs, as well. With the chairs all stacked along one wall, she set up her easel and wandered over to where I was filling the urn. "How have you been, Audrey?"

"Fine, how about yourself, Leah?"

"Busy, damned classes are taking up way to much time. Could I get your opinion on my canvas?"

Standing in front of her painting, I had to suck in a deep breath. It was wonderful. The brush work was exquisite, the palate, absolutely perfect. Turning to her, I said with respect, "This, is very, very good. I love the impression of movement in the clouds, great technique."

She seemed shocked. "You really think so?"

By then, the other class members were arriving in dribs and drabs. "People, could you all come over here. Leah doesn't believe me and needs a second opinion."

The small group huddled around Leah's easel. She was swamped by gasps of admiration, pats on the back and congratulations.

"Still doubtful?" I smirked.

I made coffee for the students as they all gathered to chat before commencing their work. The chat was all good natured and friendly. The beauty of the group was it's diversity. Not just ages, but ethnicity's, gender, and of course, religion. None of those stopped the incessant chatter as they greeted each other. Somebody opened up their bag and we had cookies.