Читать книгу Naked Angels - Judi James, Judi James - Страница 13

Miss Clayburg tried her best and so did Evangeline. They painted rainbows and they painted castles and they even painted the sea, but nothing Evangeline created showed any flair whatsoever.

They went down to the beach together to collect driftwood and then returned to the studio to draw it.

‘Your grandmother said you brought driftwood home before,’ Miss Clayburg said. ‘She told me it was something your stepfather used to do when he was young. Would you like to draw it, Evangeline? Find a nice big stick of charcoal and see what you can do.’

But Evangeline did not use the charcoal because she had found it made the paper messy. She picked a pencil out instead and spent a long time sharpening it. Then she made a few small marks on the paper but proceeded to rub them out. Miss Clayburg smiled but her eyes went narrow.

‘I thought I told you not to use the eraser, Evangeline,’ she said. ‘What is that you are drawing?’

Evangeline turned the page round. It was a tiny detail of a piece of bark.

‘What about the shape of the whole thing?’ Miss Clayburg asked.

‘I’ll get to it,’ Evangeline told her, leaning over the paper again before she caught the look of exasperation in the tutor’s eye. It was no good. They both knew it was no good. Only Grandma Klippel wouldn’t be told, and so Miss Clayburg stayed on – for her sake as much as anybody else’s. Evangeline looked down. Her sleeve had dipped into some paint and the paint had made a crimson smear across her clean white paper. The smear would never clean off. She began to cry silent tears.