Christmas Ever After (Puffin Island 3)

“I think it’s wonderful. Bold, exciting—you followed a dream.” He added a hunk of bread to his plate. “I wish I’d been that brave.”

“What are you talking about?” Suzanne glanced across at him. “You’re a wonderful doctor. And you love it.”

“I enjoy my job and I find it worthwhile, but the truth is I chose medicine because it was a logical, sensible step and I always had good grades in science. It was never a passion. I never woke up in the night thinking, ‘God, let me be a doctor.’ In fact half the time when I’m woken in the night I think, ‘God, why did I choose to be a doctor?’” He reached for his glass. “Sky is doing what she really wants. I admire that.”

It wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. “You do?”

“Of course. Most of us aren’t given the talent to do

what you’re doing. You’re using a gift. It must have been hard at the beginning, though. Did your parents help you out?”

“No. They wanted me to do something more conventional. Law.” Her mouth was dry. “They wanted me to be a lawyer.”

“Well, as a parent I can understand that. Probably worried about job security and your future. I expect they wanted you to take the safe option. But there are millions of people who have what it takes to be a lawyer, and only a handful of people who have the talent to do what you do and make it work. Must have been a slog to get where you are today.”

Sky thought about the long hours in the studio. “It was. My parents thought I was wasting my time.” And that had been the slog, not the work. Trying to show them that this was what she wanted, trying to please them while at the same time trying desperately to follow her dream.

“They must be extremely proud of you now. Tell us about the exhibition.”

Proud? Her parents weren’t proud. They were exasperated.

Alec was silent and she wondered if he was thinking of the phone message from her mother. Remembering that agonizing moment made her feel fragile and exposed.

Maybe he wished she didn’t know so much about him, but he knew an equal amount about her.

It felt strange, she thought, knowing that your secrets were in the hands of someone you’d never had reason to trust.

But there was no denying that whatever she might have thought of him in the past, Alec had been a good friend to her over the past twenty-four hours.

“I would have liked to have made it up to London to see your exhibition but the clinic has been decimated by this flu bug so I won’t be able to take the time off.” Alec’s father sat back in his chair. “I paint a little myself. Mostly watercolors although I occasionally dabble in oils. We have an artist’s group in the village. Next time Alec brings you home we’ll have to time your visit to coincide with one of our meetings and you can join us. We meet in the church hall, so not particularly exciting as a venue—not Knightsbridge—but we’re a friendly, enthusiastic bunch.”

They talked about her “next visit” as if it was inevitable. She would have been touched had it not been for Alec’s darkening mood.

“That isn’t going to happen, Dad.” He spoke through his teeth. “I’ve told you—”

“You paint?” Feeling sorry for his parents, Sky interrupted. None of this was their fault, was it? If anything it was her fault. “I’d love to see some of your work.”

“His paintings are all around the house.” Suzanne pushed a cheese platter toward her. “We swap them sometimes and of course he sells a few from time to time. Not that it’s profitable. The framing is expensive. I expect you sell a lot.”

“My sales are growing but it’s always nerve-wracking.”

“She’s being modest. She sold everything in her exhibition on the first night.” Alec’s tone was gruff and Sky turned to him in surprise.

“How do you know that?”

“I saw the red stickers.” He reached for his drink. “You deserved to sell everything.”

“You said my work was overpriced.”

“If your exhibition was in Knightsbridge I wouldn’t think price is an issue. Were there journalists there? Will there be reviews in any of the papers?” Simon glanced at the clock on the wall. “I need to take the dogs out. I could go via Village Stores and pick up The Times.”

Sky realized she’d given no thought to reviews. Nor had she checked her emails.

Her exhibition had taken a backseat to everything else going on in her life.

“I’m not sure I want to look.” What if the reviews mentioned Richard?

“I can check online.” Liv pulled her phone out of her pocket and searched. “How do you spell your surname? Oh, I’ve found you! Listen to this—‘Exciting new talent, Skylar Tempest …’ Wow, you’re an exciting talent. And here’s another one, ‘Blah, blah—innovative, creative and startlingly original.’ They love you. And this one has a photo and you look like a model or something. That silver dress you were wearing is incredible. This is so cool. Now I know two famous people.”