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Simon and Julia

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Simon stood alone staring at the big green door. He didn’t normally involve himself with Patrick’s family and he had never spoken directly with Julia. He wasn’t too confident of impressing her, but had been asked to ‘keep her company and out of trouble’, essentially babysitting. He was however starting to suspect this was a set up and Patrick had them both on a date. All he really knew of Julia was that she painted and made a living as an artist. Patrick said she moaned at him all the time and didn’t get out as much as she should. But was also stubborn enough to ignore any advice he gave. Simon had the opinion that sisters rarely took the advice of their brothers (and vice versa), so he shouldn’t really be surprised and should leave her to it. However his friend had insisted they would get along and wouldn’t let him back out.

Patrick and Simon had known each other since high school and Patrick had long used his friend as security for his business, as a form of threat in his less legitimate deals. Patrick’s business practices and associates had always been questionable. But Simon was ever present at his side and nothing was typically allowed to get beyond a few choice words and threats.

Patrick had height and authority of his own to his advantage in these deals, however Simon’s large and physical presence generally served to underline who had the upper hand. Every part of him looked too big. This might be expected to even out overall, but Simon mostly just terrified people. Muscles stood out on every part of him. His calves were rocks, his thighs strained and stretched at any cloth. His chest was like the edge of a cliff people jump off.

When he moved, those around him became very aware of the amount of mass being shifted around and then found the best way they could to avoid upsetting it. Not that he was an angry man. Generally he had no cause to be and found other people mostly polite and helpful.

He had a round head with cropped, light coloured hair, over a hard skull and heavy boned brows. His cheeks were broad and his neck had long since disappeared into folds of muscle, but his nose and mouth were well defined. When uncovered, his back resembled the surface of a tree – gnarled, dense and broad. It extended into arms made of knotted wood. His skin flared a little too rosey up the back of his head, but overall he bore the healthy complexion of an outdoor life he didn’t really adhere to. In dress his habit was to wear suits made for him in browns and blues, partnered with brogues in polished black and brown. He would spend a little more on these than he should. With few other affectations, he did like shoes with clearly defined stitching and a suit that would fit his remarkable frame.

Simon was known by most to be shyly quiet in social settings and with discretion he would position himself so as to not loom or impose over others. As a consequence people generally gave him both his own space and took the assumption that he had little to say. However he was well read and enjoyed the more delicate parts of life. He took time to read, listen, eat, drink or otherwise regard whatever creative distractions the world had to offer, but was happy to admit he was no artist himself. His day was taken up by the needs of his boss, but his life was quietly his own.

On reflection and in more introspective moments, he would admit to himself that it was a somewhat solitary life he led. Having someone to share it with might be preferred at times, but he found most people assumed the worst of him and would make their excuses rather than hang around. Being forced into Julia’s company wasn’t likely to be any different, but Patrick seemed positive enough and had raised his expectations. He was a little nervous.

The big green door in front of him was wide. It banged and crashed, but didn’t move. He waited but nothing further happened.

“Hello?”

“Hang on, I’ll get it in a sec.”

Something seemed to shift and the lock banged, cracking the door open a finger width.

“Okay now.” The door opened more gently, swinging back into the house through a wide arc. It gave way to the hard red tiles of a victorian vestibule, white painted wooden panels and turned columns thick as an arm lined the walls and framed the inside door. Four fingers gripped the edge of the door with pink unpainted nails, they were small and slim. The door moved further across and revealed an inlaid coir matt framed in brass. The large glass paneled inside door beyond was swept back and he could see light further away, but only the fingers gave away anything.

“Hello? I’m Simon.”

“Hello Simon, I’m sorry, I’m here now. Hello, I’m Julia.”

A head appeared first and then the rest of her as the door swung open. Brown hair fluffed in the air around smiling eyes and a heart shaped face. Hair fell thick across her forehead and down the sides of high clear cheeks. Small ears appeared behind and the rest of her hair was pulled back into a shaggy tail. She wore a white shirt with a flat collar and concealed buttons up the front. It escort ataşehir lit up coolly in the light above a black flared leather skirt which draped above her knee. She wore opaque black tights and flat patent black loafers which reflected the light and scraped the tiles lightly as she moved. She looked up at him warmly, hand outstretched to shake. He took it in his, it felt delicate and soft, her fingernails like ivory keys. Her bones felt like they might break in a breeze. He didn’t squeeze or shake it for fear of doing any damage, just held it a moment before letting go.

Julia was finding the morning difficult, nothing was quite as expected. She fought with the door. She couldn’t undo the lock. It had been sticking before but this was a disaster. She picked up the umbrella stand, hit it hard and the snib finally gave up. She put it back down and huffed at her hair as she pulled the door back. She smiled looking up into a big dark shadow. The shadow introduced himself as Simon and she reached out her hand to greet him. Her hand disappeared into his. Wrapped up in his thick fingers. Not long but big like sausages. His nails were flat and wide like spades, but they were very clean. His skin was soft and dry. She expected a hand so large to be rough to the touch, cracked and thick. But this was a gentle embrace, like a napped leather glove. He seemed to hold her for a beat, then let her go.

She held her hand steady just for a moment and looked at him smiling and puzzled, then remembered herself.

“Please come in, it’s nice to meet you properly.”

He didn’t speak but nodded in understanding with his hands at his sides. She backed up to let him in and get a better look. As he moved forward into the light from above, the shadow fell away and the light hit his smile. He was a large man in a blue suit and brown brogues. The shoes were nice. Shiny and new. The suit seemed big but she realised it was him that was big, the suit was actually cut to fit. He really filled the doorway. She couldn’t wave him in as she wanted to. Instead she stepped through the inside door to the darker hallway. There was a door to either side of her but these were closed and she kept going. The floor of the dark hall was hard mahogany that clicked with their steps. White painted skirting dressed the walls and lush forest green paint covered the old embossed paper. Beckoning him forward she led the way.

“Come through. It’s too dark out here.”

To Simon she didn’t seem unnerved by him at all. She had no reason to be, but that rarely made a difference. She did however know who he was and his relation to her brother. So she was probably more comfortable than other people might be. He tried to seem small and walk light.

Julia led him down the hall in a state of slight anxiety. She knew she had nothing to fear from Simon. But the skin between her shoulders prickled slightly feeling exposed. Disappointed with herself and her reaction, she straightened up, shrugged it off and walked to the main room of the house.

“Thank you for coming to see me, I know you didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure, its nice to finally meet Patrick’s sister.”

She turned and smiled, walking out the end of the corridor and into a kitchen area.

“So, this is my house,” she waved a hand,” I spend most of my time in here, this is my living room and my kitchen.”

He looked around. It was a large enough space, airy but the ceiling wasn’t so high to be cold. To his left was a long blonde wood dining table and chairs, set parallel to the room. It was a modern looking extended area with creamy white walls and a recessed roof he couldn’t see, higher up than the main space. Square windows set in the longer wall were up high, letting in light but showing only cerulean blue pictures of the sky. A low cupboard ran underneath and two pillars held up the lintel of the old opened wall. The mahogany floor ran throughout, covering the floor of the kitchen where she stood and the rest. The kitchen area was square, with units mounted to the back and side walls and a large island in the middle. A range cooker on the inside and breakfast stools at the counter on the other. Backing on to this was an open space of floor with only a marble topped table and two chairs. To the side was a thirties styled glass panelled door in a bay with narrow windows leading to a leafy, walled garden beyond.

The seated lounge was arranged around a wooden stove at the wall. A large old sofa and two comfortable chairs with a low heavy table in the middle. An acre of Persian rug covered the floor under these with small tables next to each seat. Old fashioned table lights with cut glass bodies and globe lantern shades sat on these, partnered with glossy dark green plants in brass pots.

Beyond the fireplace and lounge, a darkened doorway led away to the right before a small library corner area. This held another small table and light, next to a large wingback leather chair and stool. These corner walls were piled with books, from floor to ceiling. A soft looking kadıköy escort throw lay on the seat folded neatly. The roof lowered again above this, with pine rafters sloping gently away from him to the faraway wall. To the left of the library, between it and the dining room was an open space, ending in three large square sliding glass panels. These were framed again with larger glossy green pot plants. They were closed against the cold morning, but led out into the garden proper, a stone patio and open grass lit up bright in the sun.

The overall effect should have been a bad balance of light and gloom, however the roof above the main lounge had its own Victorian skylight in the middle. Not large but shaped like a birdcage in glass, it brightened the room but slowed the light down, making it seem like liquid, something to move through.

“It’s incredible, I can see why you would spend your time here.”

“I have another room where I work at the front and a guest bedroom, but my room is down to the right there past the bathroom.” She said pointing past the stove.

“What’s this door out the side?”

“It goes into my small private courtyard. The high walls protect it from the wind and nosey neighbours. I put all the more delicate plants that like the shade out there. I’m working on a stumpery at the moment. A very small stumpery with tiny little ferns and snowdrops and things. In the summer I can open the double doors in my bedroom onto it and eat breakfast or let the air in at night without worrying. It’s nice.”

“Its very nice, the whole thing is beautiful. You really put comfort above all else,” he smiled.

“I do. Well maybe not above everything, but it is nice to have. It has made me a bit of a recluse to be honest. I think this is why my brother sent you.”

“I guess so. Are you disappointed?”

“In what?”

“In me, I scare off most people. I imagine you could have more interesting guests.”

“Not at all. I’ve only just met you, I’d be disappointed if you felt you were letting me down,” she paused. “I am not frightened of you and have no reason to be. Being honest, you are a very striking person to be around, but that is more interesting than most.

You know I am an artist?”

“Yes, a painter.”

“Portraits. I like to paint people and interesting people make interesting paintings.”

He laughed at her candour and relaxed a little. She seemed far easier to get on with than Patrick suggested.

“My brother has set this up as he believes he needs to look out for me and my wellbeing. Possibly he feels the same about you,” she said with a smile. “Initially I was reluctant, the same as you, but I relented.

However. Although he wished us to meet, the rest is up to us, not him. We can make of this whatever we like and nothing need go back to him. My life is mine, as is yours and what we say to each other is not for anyone else, agreed?”

“Yes indeed.” He nodded.

“Okay, as we said I am an artist and like to paint and draw people. I often do this by commission. Rich people come to me and sit in the room at the front and I provide something they can put on their wall to show off. They pay me to do so but they are not always the most interesting. We agreed to meet, but it occurs to me now that we might have an opportunity here to be more ‘interesting’? If you like we can try and create something together today. You can sit for me and I can draw and paint?”

“It seems a little one sided.”

“Hmmm, maybe. What would you like out of it. We can still talk and get to know one another while we do?”

“Okay, but I’ve never sat for anyone before.”

“It can take a little effort. Sometimes you have to push a bit and dare to stretch yourself. But essentially it is just sitting still, it can be relaxing. Don’t say anything now. Lets have an early lunch and we can talk more first.”

“Sure.”

He draped his jacket over the back of one of the dining chairs and sat down. Julia wanted to make food and stayed in the kitchen, but bubbled away asking questions, listening attentively to his answers. Simon for his part struggled to manage quite the same. He felt comfortable with her and enjoyed her questions and hearing her speak but lost ground when he asked his own. They found firmer soil when the conversation turned to art. Both of them knew what they liked and didn’t, what artists were trying to say, how and why they failed and where they triumphed. Presently they finished their meal and Julia asked him again if he would like to sit for her. This time he laughed and agreed.

“Where and how do you want me then?” He asked.

“Let me get a few things and we can do some drawings. You sit on this stool in the middle and we’ll find out what works.”

She disappeared to the front leaving him alone. He stood in the centre of the room surprised at himself and the ease with which the day was going. He was curious to sit for her. To be seen through another’s eyes was quite daunting and what she saw could be very different to what he imagined. maltepe escort bayan But it was only a drawing, what harm could it do?

She returned and set about positioning him in the right light and arranging her equipment. He watched her as she set up a board on her lap and a tin of pencils.

“We’ll start out simple. You sit on the stool here in the open and we can try a few things out. Tell me if you’re uncomfortable or anything, okay?”

“Yes”

At first he found it crawled by. He wasn’t sure what to do and found himself very stiff and awkward. He was very aware of being examined and squirmed at the thought of being a weird curio for her. But as he found himself stilling in this time, he relaxed and let his mind drift a little. Julia was attentive and patient with him, always letting him dictate the pace but telling him what she wanted. She was attractive and delicate physically, but quite able to assert what she needed or wanted from him. At the beginning she would make him change position every few minutes, sketching fast and rough. She would stop then, showing him what she had done, encouraging him where he needed. When they found their stride she slowed down and focused her attention on him in detail. It was unnerving to be regarded as an object, but after a time it was not unpleasant. He liked her face and her eyes on him, finding that it warmed him. He took encouragement when she seemed especially intent on him and found himself looking for these moments and trying to create them. It caught him by surprise, but he wanted her to look at him. He became very still at this thought.

Julia was on a chair with the board on her lap leaning against the stool in front. It had started out straightforward enough, just practice sketches and it was looking good. But as time went on it wasn’t progressing. Usually she could see the way forward, but this wasn’t clear. She tried various angles and techniques but it wasn’t coming together. Time wasn’t an issue. The light was good. But every time she put her head down to draw she became aware of him sitting looking back at her. Perhaps it was that he was quite a big man and she comparatively small, but that should just make it easier, simpler to define. She stopped and looked at him, white shirt, blue trousers and brown brogues all of which fit him well. Made him handsome even. But they hid as well. The real story was his physicality. Here was a man that could dwarf most others. He might not intend to intimidate but he had the capacity and could turn it on if needed. He was intelligent, physically strong and knew his own mind. But there was a vulnerability. He struggled to voice himself on a more intimate level, even to her today. She became aware of staring too long, wading into a pool of thought she wasn’t expecting.

Perhaps something less formal. This wasn’t a society portrait they were doing, it was their experiment. He was used to people seeing the worst in him or not seeing past the surface. He wanted something more from her. They were in it together and he was trusting her to do it right.

“Simon?”

“Hi,” he said snapping out of dream

“I’m thinking this is a bit too stiff. Too formal and isn’t very fair on you. Might I make a suggestion?”

“What like? I’ll have to trust your judgement.”

“Well okay, but tell me if there’s any problem ok?”

“Sure”

“I think that it might work better if we saw you more as yourself. The suit and shirt seem to be hiding that?”

“What do you need?”

“I thought perhaps you should take it off?”

“The shirt?”

“Well, to begin with maybe?”

“Ah, okay. I mean I guess so?”

“Tell me if you don’t want to.”

“Well no it’s fine. I’ve admired plenty of paintings of other people so I ought to be able to do this shouldn’t I.”

He started to unbutton his cuff and stopped, ‘to begin with’?

“Julia?”

“Yep?”

“It occurs to me that even if I take off my shirt, standing around in trousers and shoes with no shirt on is going to look a bit odd. I mean I might look like an old time boxer, or a circus strongman at best.”

“Hmmm”

“If you want, I can take the rest off too? If you can turn around and I can be a bit, you know, discreet?”

“Absolutely! Whatever you like!” – Yikes! – thought Julia. She jumped up and turned around to the wall behind. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

She stared at the wall. She was used to models and sitters but this felt different, personal. Here were two strangers getting to know each other just because her brother had said so and now one of them was taking their clothes off?

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yes, think so. Two seconds.”

“Don’t rush, just when you’re happy.”

“I’ll try facing away first if that’s okay.”

“No problem, go ahead.” – ‘First’?

Simon had removed every stitch and folded them on the arm of one of the fireplace chairs. His shoes sat below on the floor. He positioned himself sitting down on the stool, facing away to the glass side door. Placing his right foot flat on the floor he placed the other on the bottom rung and pointed his left knee out. He then straightened out his back, lifting his head to the left and let both hands rest at his lap, elbows at his sides. It was a relaxed pose he felt he could hold a while for her.

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