She had kind things to say about even the most glaringly amateurish efforts. She took time to help and answered all the questions thrown at her patiently. When he told her, as he stared at the empty paper pinned to his easel, that he was waiting for inspiration to come and that you couldn’t rush that sort of thing, she didn’t roar with laughter but merely suggested that a single stroke of the pencil might be all the inspiration he needed.
He thought that he might have been a little more interested in art at school if he’d had her as his teacher instead of the battleaxe who had told him that the world of art would be better off without his input. Not that she hadn’t had a point...
He’d managed something roughly the shape of one of the objects on the table by the time the class drew to an end, but instead of heading out with everyone else he remained exactly where he was, watching as she tidied everything away.
Delilah could feel his eyes on her as she busied herself returning pencils and foam pads and palette knives to the various boxes on the shelf. She’d been so conscious of him sitting there at the back of the class, sprawled out with his body at an angle and doing absolutely nothing, from what she could see. She’d barely been able to focus.
Now she turned to him and smiled politely. ‘Won’t you be joining the other passengers for some lunch?’ she asked as she began the process of dismounting the easels and stacking them away neatly against the wall, where straps had been rigged to secure them in place.
Daniel linked his fingers behind his head and relaxed back into the chair. ‘I thought you could give me some pointers on my efforts today...’ He swivelled the easel so that it was facing her and Delilah walked slowly towards it.
‘I’m sorry you haven’t managed to accomplish a bit more,’ she said tactfully. ‘I was aiming for more of a realistic reproduction of the jugs...it’s important to really try and replicate what you see at this stage of your art career...’
‘I don’t think I’ll be having a career in art,’ Daniel pointed out.
‘So this is just a hobby for you...? Well, that’s good, as well. Hobbies can be very relaxing, and once you become a bit more familiar with the pencil—once your confidence starts growing—you’ll find it the most relaxing thing in the world...’
‘Is that what you do to relax?’ he asked, making no move to shift.
‘I really must get on and tidy away this stuff...’
‘No afternoon classes?’
‘The afternoons, generally speaking, are downtime for everyone. The passengers like to go out onto the deck, or else sit in the shade and catch up with their reading or whatever homework’s been set...’
‘And what do you do?’
‘I... I do a little painting...sometimes I sit by the pool on the top deck and read...’
Daniel enjoyed the way she blushed. It was a rare occurrence. The women he dated had left their blushing days far behind.
‘I thought we might have lunch again today,’ he suggested, waiting to see what form her refusal would take. ‘As you can see...’ he waved in the vague direction of his easel ‘...my efforts at art are crap.’
‘No one’s efforts at art are anything but good. You forget that beauty is in the eye of the beholder...’
‘How long are you going to be on the liner for?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Are you here for...?’ He whipped out the crumpled cruise brochure from his shorts pocket, twisted it in various directions before finding the bit he wanted. ‘For the full duration of a month?’
‘I can’t see what this has to do with the course, Mr...er... Daniel...’
‘If you’re going to be on the course for the full duration I might be incentivised to stay a bit longer than a week.’
Complete lie—but something about her appealed to him. Yet again she was in an outfit more suitable for one of the middle-aged free spirits on the cruise ship. Another flowing skirt in random colours, and another kind of loose, baggy top that worked hard at concealing her figure—which, he saw as he surreptitiously cast his eye over it, was as slender and as graceful as a gazelle’s.
The libido he had planned on resting while he was on the ship stirred into enthusiastic life as he wondered what the body under the unappealing clothes might be like.
He went for big breasts. She was flat-chested—that much he could see. He went for women who were small and curvy—she was long and willowy. He liked them blonde and blue-eyed. She was copper-haired and brown-eyed.
Maybe it was the novelty... But whatever it was he was happy to go with the flow—not forgetting that she could also be a useful conduit to the information he wanted.
‘Don’t you have the rest of your travel plans already sorted out?’ Delilah was irritated to find herself lingering on the possibility that this man she had spent about fifteen seconds with might stay on for longer than he had originally suggested.
‘I try not to live my life according to too many prearranged plans,’ Daniel murmured, appreciating the delicate bloom of pink in her cheeks. ‘I guess we probably have that in common...’
Delilah grimaced. ‘I wish that was like me,’ she said without thinking. ‘But unfortunately you couldn’t be further from the truth.’ She reddened and spun round, away from those piercing unusual eyes. ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘it would be lovely if you stayed on a bit longer. I’m sure you could become an able artist if you put all your efforts into it.’
She knew that the cruise ship was running at a loss. All the crew knew that. Gerry and Christine had not kept it a secret from them at all. In fact on day one they had called a meeting and apologised straight away for the fact that they couldn’t be paid more. None of the teachers on board had protested. They were there because they loved what they did, and the fact that there was sun and sea in the mix was enough for all of them.
But the Ockleys had suggested that if they could try and persuade some of the passengers to prolong their stay, or even tempt interested holidaymakers into hopping on board for a couple of days to try their hand at one of the many courses... Well, every little would help.
‘Persuade me over lunch,’ Daniel suggested. It felt like a challenge to get her to comply—and since when had he ever backed down in the face of a challenge? ‘Unless, of course, you find my company objectionable...?’
Realistically, he didn’t even countenance that.
‘I had lunch with you yesterday because you wanted to find out about the course.’
Delilah did her best to dredge up the memory of her disaster of a relationship with Michael and to listen to the warning voice in her head reminding her that she was still recovering from a broken heart—which, by definition, meant retreating from men, taking time out, paying attention to the value of common sense.
‘So? What does that have to do with anything? We’ve talked about the course and now I’d like to find out whether you think I’m a suitable candidate to be on it. I wouldn’t want to be accused of wasting your time...so why the hesitation?’
‘Perhaps
