At once she was thrown back to the day she first found the place; the surprise of seeing these intricate, detailed artworks covering half the walls. Then the even stronger surprise of finding an unexpected lodger asleep on the floor …
But there was an extra work to look at, a wall that had been blank when she had last seen it.
‘Oh God, Jason,’ she said, plucking at his cuff. ‘Is that …?’
It was a full-length portrait of the two of them, naked but entwined in such a manner as to conceal anything really explicit. Their bodies were surrounded by tiny little scenes, all depicting something of significance to them, from a tableau of Deano on stage in a far corner, to a curled-up Bowyer at their feet. In other places, a crowd of protestors at the pit, Harville Hall on fire and some smiling kids on skateboards by the estate shops were part of the fascinating and highly detailed texture of the piece.
‘It’s about us. About everything that made us and everything that brought us together,’ he said. ‘And the way I’ve painted us puts us together forever. Nothing can break that apart. I wanted to show that … because …’
But his voice had tailed off, broken with emotion, and Jenna had shut him up with a passionate kiss anyway, her arms flung around him.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said. ‘Nobody ever had a better wedding present.’
‘Nobody ever had a better wedding,’ he whispered back. ‘Or a better wife.’
‘But … is this room … going to be in use?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, stroking her cheek. ‘It’s going to be the art students’ coffee room. Lucky bastards, eh, getting to look at us every day?’
Jenna snorted with laughter.
‘Oh God. So the next generation of talented Bledburnians are going to go through life with this image seared on their brains?’
‘Dead right they are.’
‘Well,’ said Jenna philosophically, ‘I daresay they’ve all seen a lot more of me on the internet.’
‘True,’ said Jason. ‘But nobody gets to see it in the flesh, except me. Those poor saps are going to have to look at this, day after day, and know that they can never get any closer to you.’
‘I’ve already picked my artistic genius,’ said Jenna.
Jason kissed her bare shoulder, then the side of her neck above her glittering necklace. He slid a hand to the back of her waist and began to lower it over her slinky silken rear.
‘Jason,’ whispered Jenna, her heart bumping.
‘Do you remember?’ he whispered back. ‘Finding me in here?’
‘I’ll never, ever forget it,’ she said. ‘I had the shock of my life.’
‘But you didn’t call the police. Imagine if you had. Everything would’ve been so different.’
‘Don’t. I don’t want to think about that.’
‘Neither do I. But I want to think about how my life has changed since that day. And I want to apologise as well.’
‘Apologise?’
‘For all the times I acted like a dick with a chip on my shoulder. It’s like, when you’ve been down all your life, it takes a while to believe anyone would really have faith in you.’
‘I know,’ said Jenna softly. ‘But I wasn’t perfect either. All that stuff trying to change you and make you socially acceptable. It must have hurt you.’
‘Well. Not that badly,’ he said, with a wink. ‘I got my own back.’
She smiled, remembering the London sex shop they had so memorably visited.
‘Ah, water under the bridge,’ she said. ‘Shall we promise to just love each other from now on?’
‘I thought we already did. Marriage vows? Ring any bells?’