Page 26 of Code Name: Typhon
Just as I stepped outside to go for a walk, my mobile rang.
“Penelope? How nice to hear from you.” I’d met Pen and her four best friends when I spent one year at a boarding school in America. They were all great fun, but like so many others, I hadn’t kept in touch.
“How are you, Eliza? Where are you?”
I chuckled. “I’m fine, although sick of my own company. As for where, I’m living in London.”
“I’ll admit I’m feeling a little out of sorts myself. I blame it on the time of year. January is so depressing in the city.”
“You could come for a visit,” I suggested, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.
She sighed. “It’s difficult for me to leave the gallery. I’m managing it full time now.”
“Right. I’d forgotten. It’s the Catarina…um…”
“Benedetto. The Catarina Benedetto Collection. While we feature Tara’s work predominantly, we have many other artists we hang permanently. Others are highlighted on a temporary basis.”
“How is Tara doing, by the way?” I asked.
“Fabulous. Can you believe she and Knox have been married three years already?”
Three years? And I didn’t even have a boyfriend. “What about you? Seeing anyone special?” I asked.
“Sadly, no. Special or otherwise.”
“You and I are certainly two peas.”
“Men. Probably overrated anyway.”
“Probably.” Although, I could really use one in my life right now. I couldn’t remember when I’d last had sex and didn’t dare try to figure it out lest I end up more depressed than I already was.
“So, what about you? Are you working?” Pen asked.
I told her about my job in Edinburgh and how I’d left due to issues with my family.
“Sorry to hear that, but I meant sculpting.”
I bit my lip. “No, I haven’t done.”
“Painting?”
I shook my head, then remembered she couldn’t see me. “Not that, either.”
“Why not?”
Why not, indeed? “I have been considering converting the spare room in my flat into a studio.”
“You absolutely should. Talent like yours shouldn’t go to waste.” She sighed again. “I feel like I say that to all the artists I know. I can’t draw a stick figure, but if I could, I’d be creating all the time.”
“You’re shaming me, dear friend.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I meant to be motivating.”
“You are. It’s just…”
“What?”
“Then I’d have to find gallery representation here in London, which is far more competitive than in Edinburgh. Just like adjunct professor jobs,” I added under my breath.