You’ve still got Brianna’s Clothes

Tuesday is back to normal after the chaos of Monday evening. Blair’s busy moaning about the paperwork.

It’s only when you get to your classroom that you realise that you never handed over Brianna’s clothes to Faye. They’re still in your rucksack. Well, that’s no good. You’ll have to hand them over this evening.

Lessons in the morning go well, and you have the afternoon free. Last week you felt compelled to stay at school but now understand that no-one will object if you don’t. So after lunch you decide to head home.

You notice that Faye’s car is in the driveway when you get home. So rather than go straight home you head next door.

“Hello Mr Smith, how may I help you?” Faye greets you.

“Hi Miss Ollins, I remembered this morning that I’ve got Brianna’s school unform. So, I thought I’d better bring it over.”

“I was wondering where that had disappeared to. One of Brianna’s friends brought over her bag and phone this morning, but not her uniform.”

“How is Brianna by the way?”

“Why don’t you come in and ask her yourself. She’s in her bedroom. Don’t worry, last I checked she was decent. I helped her dress. While you do that, I’ll brew you a tea. You want a tea?”

You say yes, but first Faye leads you upstairs to a door, knocks and then goes in. You follow.

Brianna’s bedroom is the typical bedroom of a teenage girl, a couple of posters of the latest male popstar fantasy, bedspread girly pink and flowery, a few stuffed animals crowded on the pillows. Under the window is a surprisingly large desk holding her laptop and several textbooks. But what strikes you most is the plethora of pencil drawings, blutacked to the walls, a pile on the desk, several stacks on the floor, a fresh picture currently being worked on at the desk by Brianna. The subject of the pictures is varied; from modern cityscapes (you don’t recognise but guess Abu Dhabi), to more leafy suburban endeavours, a couple you recognise from about town, and people, lots of drawings of people, imitations of the popstar posters, facsimiles of the girls at school, many you recognise, to the typical still life pictures beloved of many artists, fruit bowls, and flowers and dinner settings.

“Look who’s come to see you,” Faye offers.

Brianna is sitting at her desk, drawing. Her left hand is wrapped tightly in gauze and white cloth, and the whole arm rest carefully on the flat top, while her right hand draws. She pauses looks up, sees you and freezes.

“Hello Brianna. You feeling better today?”

She nods. “Yes, Aunt Faye said I shouldn’t go to school, I need to recover. That’s why I wasn’t in class today.”

“Yes and totally correct. You shouldn’t tire yourself out. You gave us all a shock yesterday. Best you recover before coming back. I’m just here to return your school uniform. I put them in my rucksack last night, but I forgot to hand them to your aunt.”

“That’s OK, sir.”

You open your rucksack and pull the clothes out. Handing over her folded blouse, her folded school skirt, her socks and at the bottom her blazer. As you’re pulling out her blazer it draws out something else, that tumbles from the rucksack and falls on the floor. It’s the statuette.

“Oh sorry, that’s mine.”

It’s fallen by Brianna’s feet, and she reaches down with her right hand and picks it up.

“What is it?” she asks, as she looks at it.

“It’s an ancient Celtic statue. I think it’s meant to be a fertility goddess or at least meant to represent a fertility spirit.”

Brianna is fascinated. She’s turning it around with her one free hand, assessing all the angles. For a moment, she forgets you’re there. When she remembers, it’s with a start and a blush. She looks up at you through her eyelashes.

“Sir, can I… can I borrow this?” she finally asks. “To draw. You see, I’ve been trying still life, and I think this would be perfect. There’s a lot of curves. I think it would be a challenge.”

What can you say? You look around the room. “These all yours?” She nods. “Very impressive. You want to draw this?”

“I’m trying to get curves right. I think this might help.”

You can’t really say no to those pleading brown eyes.

“And what are you drawing at the moment?”

She blushes at the question. You look over her as she tries to obscure it, but she’s too slow. It’s a person, still at the early stages of drawing, no real details yet, just the shape and the face

“It’s me!” you exclaim.

She nods. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course not. And all that from memory?”

She nods again. If she could get your face so well just from memory, she must have been studying it. You’re impressed. Also a bit spooked.

At that moment Faye comes in with the tea.

“She been showing you her pictures?” the shorter, older woman asks as she hands you a cup.

“Yes, she’s very good. Would you like to do something like this when you start work?” Brianna nods.

“Well for something important like your future, I think I can leave this with you.” You smile and pass the statuette to her. But before you do, you twist the base and turn it on. Why you do this, you can’t really tell. Just instinct. And then it’s out of your hands, and you can’t undo it.

“Thanks, sir.”

“I was thinking,” Faye butts in, “John, I can call you John? What are you doing this evening? After all you’ve done for Brianna, why don’t you let me cook you dinner?”

Well, you have nothing planned. And it would be good to get to know your neighbours better. You agree. Both women break into smiles.

You leave Brianna to her drawing of you, and head downstairs to join Faye.