Read Online Christmas Yet to Come by Marian Perera - Free Book Online Page A

something missing.”
    â€œLike what?”
    He shrugged. “Whatever makes people stare at a masterpiece in a museum and talk about it afterwards.”
    â€œEvery painting can’t be a masterpiece.”
    â€œI know, but there was always something—flat about mine.” He frowned. “Conventional. I painted still lifes of fruit, and the garden. But everyone paints landscapes. Perhaps it’s a matter of technique—”
    He stopped so abruptly she glanced at the clock to make certain her time wasn’t at an end yet. “That was a terrible answer,” he said. “I should have said I would set up a hospital or endow scholarships.”
    â€œJustin, I wasn’t trying to put you on trial.” She realized a moment later that it was the first time she had used his name, and she went on quickly. “I only wondered what you would do if you had more time to yourself.”
    It was a pity she had to leave, because she would have liked to see the paintings. Then again, she would have liked to do so many things. She knew the reason she’d asked him that question hadn’t just been to open him to all the possibilities of what he could do with the time he had left, all the choices still to make. It had been because she couldn’t afford to have any secret dreams of her own.
    The awkward moment seemed to pass, and he looked at her thoughtfully. “What would you do, if I sat you in front of a blank canvas and gave you a bowl of fruit?”
    â€œProbably eat one or two pieces, but the rest…” Laura finished her sherry to give herself time to think. “I’d paint it as close to life as I could, except for an apple growing out of a pear.”
    Justin’s brows went up. “The realism to ground the audience, and the strange touch to make them look twice. Like an English country garden with a gazelle eating the bluebells.”
    Laura nodded. “And you didn’t need to pay me your million pounds for that.”
    He laughed. “Oh, the money wouldn’t be nearly enough thanks. A portrait, on the other hand…”
    He didn’t finish, and once again she knew exactly what he was thinking of—the kind of portrait that would never be for public view. “With an apple growing out of my head?” she said lightly, to change the mood, and he let the matter drop as he cut more cake for them both.
    â€œTell me something,” she said as he refilled their glasses. A look at the clock earlier had warned her time was running out faster than she had expected—on the single night she was actually enjoying herself, too—but she needed to settle one final matter before her last hour was done. “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who prefers being completely by himself. I mean, you like your work, but you…seem to enjoy talking to me as well.”
    A corner of his mouth lifted in a quiet, almost private smile. “You could say that.”
    â€œSo why do nothing at all for Christmas?” She didn’t want to harp on it, especially if it didn’t make any difference to his life, but she was curious about him. “I don’t mean you should have crackers overflowing from the chimney, but going to the other extreme isn’t much better. It seems…bleak to be alone, working at your books and eating a cold supper before you go to bed as you do on any other day.”
    Justin set the sherry bottle down with a little thud and looked at her as though she had asked him for a very large loan. “Is that any of your concern?”
    â€œNo. But I’m asking anyway.”
    He didn’t seem to know how to retort to that. Instead, he drained half his glass at once and looked away from her into the fire.
    Oh, well done, Laura thought in annoyance, mostly at herself. She debated changing the subject, but decided against it. If this was her last night on earth as a human, she didn’t want