Keller brought breakfast back with him an hour or so later. Robin had woken up not long after he had gone out, but then she was always an early riser.
We ate breakfast and after I took Robin to the gallery. It was time for me to get my life back to how it was. I had a routine. To most people that would seem boring, but to me it was simple. Painting I was good at, relationship I had no idea. I wasn’t going to let this creep beat me either. I would go back to my house and make sure it was safe, but I was going to stay at home.

It was nice going back to the gallery, it made things normal again. I didn’t go to Maceys old flat though. I wasn’t ready to go in there and see it empty. If I didn’t go in for a while I could lie to myself and pretend that she was just behind the door having a day off. And to be honest I was scared, scared that maybe she was in there and hadn’t gone and that I would have to somehow explain why her best friend for five years had suddenly told her to get lost.

I told Robin that Macey had gone away on holiday to her parents who lived down south. She did that every few months so Robin believed me. I think.
Robin sat at my computer playing some game where she had to create little people and make them live their lives. I had no idea what it was, my uncle Ethan had bought it for her he was hugely into his technology and rolled his eyes many times at me when I tried to feebly use the internet.

Catrine, one of the members of staff I had knocked on the door and opened it. She had worked for me since day one and had practically run the place for me since she started, leaving me to paint and for Macey to sculpture.
“Sorry to bother you.” She said. “But there is a woman at the desk asking to meet the artist who painted the Imaginary Wedding picture.”
“Oh, right.” I said. “Tell her I’ll be there in a second.
The Imaginary Wedding picture was the one of my parents, the wedding that they never had. A lot of customers asked to meet the artist. I had no idea why, but they seemed to meet me and then make up their minds as to whether they should buy the painting or not. I cleaned my hands on the cloth I hung at the bottom of my easel. Robin was lost in her game. I would only be in the next room and Bexley was curled up next to her so I left her there while I went to meet the woman.

I saw her hair before I saw anything else, bright blonde straight out of the bottle. Some people should just let age have them. She was defiantly pushing fifty, the bleach in her hair and the layer of make up she wore on her face was not going to disguise that. She had on a stylish suit which was defiantly created with someone twenty years her junior in mind. It takes all sorts I imagine.
She was stood gazing up at the picture of my parents; she saw me and started talking to me before I was in audible distance. I guess her hearing aid must have been on loud that day.

I extended my hand out and she took it. Her grip was firmer than I imagined. Her nails were manicured to perfection, all except one which was chipped and looked completely out of place on her hand. Classy.
“Are you the artist?” she asked and I could see her disapproval of my appearance in her face. What did she expect? I was dressed in paint splattered jeans and a tight white t-shirt, also splattered with paint. I might have owned the place but I certainly wasn’t going to paint wearing my Sunday best. I almost apologised for my appearance. Almost.
“Yes I’m Vanessa King.” I said.

She let go of my hand and went back to the painting. “Did you paint this?”
“Yes.”
“Did they model for you?”
“No” I said giving her another one word answer. It was rude of me I know, but first impressions take about three seconds to create and I had already made my mind up that I didn’t like her.
“I know them.” She said. “I didn’t think they got married.”
“They didn’t.”

“Oh?” he face seemed to light up at that. “Then why have you painted them on their wedding day?”
“Why did Van Gogh cut his ear off? Know one knows.” I replied sarcastically.
She ignored me and carried on regardless. “I used to date him you know. Adam is his name.”
“Was.” I corrected.
“Pardon me?”
“Was his name. He’s dead.”
“Oh.” She said oh as if I had just told her the new offer that was on at the supermarket, not the kind of oh you say when you learn an old friend had died.
“I knew her too. Morgan was her name. I never knew what he saw in her to be honest. I wonder who she is scrounging off now.”

That was it I was angry. She could insult my father all she wanted, but to insult my mother was just wrong. And I liked being angry it was easy no confusion.
“She’s dead too.” I said. I looked at her closer and the penny suddenly dropped. “I know you. You’re Melody Baxter aren’t you?”
“Yes. Did Adam talk about me before he died? Oh I bet he did. We were so in love when we were together.”
“Really? So in love that he dumped you?”
“He did not.”
“No?”
“No.”

“I know exactly who you are, and yes he did dump you I read it in my mothers diaries how you played your silly games, but he loved my mother and you lost him.”
“Your mother was a lunatic.” She said looking me up and down. “And I see you have inherited it from her.”
I laughed and threw my head back adding to the dramatics for her. “Your still just as pathetic as you were twenty five years ago aren’t you? You can’t get over the fact that he truly loved my mother and not you. Goodbye Melody and please if your passing don’t drop in.”

I walked off smiling to myself. I had read all about Melody in what my mother had written and I had grown to hate her just as my mother had. I remember laughing when I read that my mother had finally lost her temper and punched Melody in the face. Of course I also remember crying when wrote about how Melody used that to take my father further away. But she didn’t win in the end, my mother did.
The smile was soon wiped from my face as I went back to my studio. Macey was bent down next to Robin watching her play her game.
“Hi Macey.” I said nervously. I was scared she was going to yell and I deserved that, but still I didn’t want to get into another argument with her.
