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  Meg laughed and recognised that Simon was baiting Byron again. Turning to Byron, Meg smiled. ‘Persistent much?’

  ‘Please ignore my brother. Tell me more about this artist friend? Would I know any of her work?’ Although Byron thought it was a fantastic idea, he knew better than to push the point right now.

  The three of them relaxed once again into easy chit chat, ordered an apple and cinnamon pizza for desert and, to Meg’s surprise, laughed quite a lot.

  *

  The following day, Simon gazed out the window of the studio, taking a break from fixing a website which had been compromised somehow. He found himself thinking about his father and the wisdom he’d always impart when Simon was at a crossroads or up against a creative block. Greg Cassidy was a journalist by day and a short story writer by night. Simon smiled to himself remembering his father’s pen name, Cassidy Winters. He always said that Greg Cassidy was a boring name for a writer.

  If you don’t like something, son, change it. If you can’t see past it, move until you can. These were words that often came to Simon in times of reflection. He thought about the comment Byron had made the night before, about their father being proud of them. Simon agreed whole heartedly with the sentiment in relation to their business. They were doing well for themselves and had fun along the way. Their personal lives, however, were a different matter. Byron was floating in the ether, too wrapped up in his work to look for a serious relationship. Simon was always chasing what was just out of reach, and maybe too wrapped up in the invisible, to look for a solid partnership. Either way, both brothers could do with seeing things from a different angle.

  Simon thought about the first time he’d brought a first girlfriend home. He’d thought she was the bee’s knees. He introduced her to his parents with such pride and with total belief that they were soul mates, destined for eternal love. After a month of movies and dinner dates at Pizza Hut, the light of his life, what was her name Simon wondered now, informed him that she had lost interest and was breaking up with him. Simon had pined for weeks, though to his parents it felt like months. That was until Greg took Simon fishing and shared stories of past love, reckless lust, and everlasting happiness. That was the first time Simon saw his father as a man, not just a dad. It felt mischievous to be talking about other women besides his mother; flings and romances well before his parents had met. But by the end of that day, Simon had a fresh perspective of romance and forgot all about what’s-her-name.

  Byron broke Simon’s train of thought when he came through the door talking on his mobile. He threw Simon a box of sushi, trying to catch him off guard, which Simon caught with the agility and quick reflexes of an athlete. They had always been close, laughing and joking around a constant part of their daily life for as long as either of them could remember. After their dad died, their sister Grace had pretty much gone off the rails. Simon didn’t know what to do to help her, because they were all dealing with the grief in their own way. Byron buried himself in work, starting up Cassidy Designs, while Simon partied hard and drowned his sorrows in a bottle. He still liked to party but Simon had eventually come to terms with his father’s passing. He hoped that Greg Cassidy was somehow able to see how well they were doing and know what an inspiration he had been to their success.

  Chapter Five

  Meg headed into Cassidy Designs studio, armed with stock photographs, ready for the full skincare range briefing. Bella was meeting them there in thirty minutes, giving them enough time to get on the same page before she arrived. As they got settled, she admired the open space of the studio. With beautiful old hardwood floors and huge, state of the art monitors lined up against one wall, the mixture of the old and new was a startling combination. At the end of the long room was a large window, coffee table, couch and chairs. The whole area made full use of the natural light.

  ‘These are great, Meg,’ Simon said, commenting on the shots she brought along with her. ‘The colour in these macros is stunning.’

  ‘Bella has given us the list of key ingredients and I think we can tick some off already with these,’ Byron said, while looking over Simon’s shoulder.

  ‘Have you got a concept for the basic design elements yet,’ Meg asked.

  ‘Yep, quite a simple design, with your images being the focal point.’ Byron pulled out a large sketch pad and pointed to different packaging and label drawings. ‘Basic sanserif typeface, muted pastel colours, catchy taglines.’

  Meg liked what she saw. It was a photographer’s dream job, with no strong guidelines as everything revolved around her images. A fairly easy job as predicted. The small ball of anxiety in her chest uncurled slightly as relief flooded her bloodstream. This was going to be fine, she told herself.

  Over the following hour they mapped out a shot-list for the remaining images needed and timeframes that suited everyone. Simon was looking at his watch when he realised Bella was a good forty five minutes late. ‘I might just give Bel a quick call,’ he said to no one in particular, getting up and moving to the other side of the room.

  ‘Weather depending, I should be able to get these shot by the end of next week. Then edited and to you by the middle of the following week. How does that sound,’ Meg asked Byron.

  ‘Great. I’ll have the label dimensions and image sizing to you by Monday.’ Byron was interrupted by the worry in Simon’s raised voice.

  ‘What! I’ll be right over. Shit!’ Simon stormed into the kitchen, grabbed his jacket and went for the door. ‘He’s done it again,’ he said furiously to Byron as though Meg wasn’t even in the room.

  ‘Go, we’re right to finish up here,’ Byron said, looking just as serious. After Simon slammed the door, Byron turned to Meg. ‘Sorry about that. Where were we?’ He flipped his pad to the website mock-ups. ‘This is what we had in mind for the website.’ Byron continued as though nothing had happened.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t realise this range would have its own site. I assumed it would be added to the boutique sites.’

  ‘It will be but Bella loves the web medium. She has fifteen sites so far and counting.’

  ‘Wow, all on your books? Nice,’ Meg said. No wonder they were close with Bel.

  Meg and Byron spent the next hour going over the website design when Simon all but kicked the front door open. He entered the room holding Bella who was shielding her face with her hands. Byron stood up and followed Simon and Bella into the back room. Meg could hear Simon saying that he had nowhere else to take her. Byron asked if there was anything he could do. Simon requested he give them a minute. When Byron came back into the room, Meg rose to see if she should go.

  ‘Sorry about this. Not your typical day in the office, I swear.’ But if he stopped to think about it long enough, he would realise that statement wasn’t quite true.

  As Meg drew breath to make her departure, Simon came back into the room. ‘That bastard. I’m going to punch his fucking face in.’ And with that he flew out the front door again.

  ‘Really sorry about this, Meg,’ Byron said, as he hurried into the back room. He came back a moment later. ‘She’s in the bathroom. I have to go after Simon before he gets arrested. Do you mind staying in case Bella comes back out, so she’s not alone?’ His eyes pleaded with her.

  How could she possible say no?

  ‘No problem.’

  With a beseeching smile he was gone. All she could hear was the sound of muffled sobs coming from the back room. What was she to do? She didn’t even know what was happening.

  Bella came slowly out of the bathroom, preventing Meg from having to make a decision. ‘I don’t suppose you have any cover stick in your purse,’ Bella asked feebly.

  Meg picked up her handbag to riffle through it, even though she knew she didn’t keep any make up in there. It gave her time to think and to busy her hands. ‘Sorry,’ she said, looking back up at Bella. ‘Can I get you a cup of coffee or something?’

  ‘A green tea would be great, thanks,’ she smiled weakly.

  Meg had no i
dea where anything was but she fumbled in the small kitchen until she found what she needed to make Bella a green tea and a strong black coffee for herself. She brought them back into the room where Bella was curled up on the couch and looking slightly less distressed. Meg sat in the armchair and placed the mugs on the coffee table. She didn’t know what to say as she tried to inconspicuously look at Bella’s face, looking for any scratches, bruising or other signs of a fight.

  ‘Sorry about all this drama.’ Bella curled her slender fingers around her cup.

  ‘Is there anything else I can do?’ Let me do something to relieve this uncomfortable feeling, Meg thought.

  ‘Please just sit with me,’ Bella let out in a whimper.

  Great, Meg thought sarcastically. She wondered how long the men would be and if, in fact, Simon was punching anyone in the face or being arrested at that very moment.

  Luckily, she didn’t have to wait long to find out. Simon and Byron came back looking fairly normal, considering. Simon went straight to Bella’s side and Meg stood up and followed Byron into the kitchen.

  ‘Is everything alright,’ she asked anxiously.

  Byron looked at Meg and slumped his shoulders as he let out the breath he felt like he’d been holding for hours. ‘Better than it could be, but worse than it should be.’ He tried to smile.

  ‘I should go.’ Meg wanted to take away the sadness in Byron’s eyes. But she couldn’t think of anything she could do.

  ‘Sure, thanks for sticking around.’ Byron walked her to the door. Simon and Bella were sitting facing each other; Simon sitting on the coffee table rubbing Bella’s knees, so Meg didn’t interrupt to say goodbye.

  ‘We’ll be in touch,’ Byron said on auto pilot and Meg left. She didn’t realise until she was in the car that she left her pad and proof sheets at the studio. There was no hurry to get them back, she thought with relief. But she’d need them eventually. She emailed Byron and said she’d be by in the next day or two to collect them. She certainly wasn’t going back there now.

  Byron signalled for Simon to join him in the kitchen when he saw Bella asleep on the couch. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Let her stay here until she’s ready to go, I guess.’ Simon raked a hand through his hair in frustration.

  ‘Do you think that’s wise,’ Byron asked cautiously.

  ‘He’s never come here before. She’ll be safe.’ Simon paced the small room.

  Not yet, thought Byron. But he just gripped Simon’s shoulder. As they heard Bella stir Byron said, ‘I’ll go get us some lunch or something.’ And made himself scarce.

  *

  Chadwick welcomed Meg with the full force of twenty regular size dogs. She had to admit it was a nice feeling to always be greeted with such affection. Maybe she should get a dog? She walked through the open front door and back to where the music was blasting out from Avery’s painting studio. The sight of Avery in full painting mode was always a moving sight for Meg. Such a raw energy and passion was moving from her body, through the brush or knife and then onto the canvas.

  Avery loved the feel of her muscles when she painted on large canvas. Amazed at how a long fluid movement of her body resulted in a smooth stroke of colour. Or a quick flick of her arm that produced harsh, jagged edges. In a way it reminded her of sex. The primitive nature of art. A change of emotion with the change of pace. One of the strongest reasons Avery painted for a living was that she liked the way it put her mind in tune with her body. Whenever she felt disconnected from herself, after a long day being dragged around shopping with her sister or short session at the accountant’s office, painting allowed her to reconnect. It also allowed Avery to luxuriate in her desire to be filthy. She loved the smears of paint that ended up on her cheek, her elbow, even her toes. Painting, sex and food – they were the indulgences that kept Avery grounded yet euphoric at the same time. She loved to feel, not just on the outside of her skin, but deeply inside her muscles, her stomach, her heart. Avery never considered herself an ‘arty-farty’, nor a nature-loving hippy or gypsy, either. Though she did love nature and the beautiful colours and textures it provided her. She was just in tune with her creative side. The side she believed that everyone had, but not everyone tapped in to. And she knew how lucky she was to be able to make a respectable living off her passion.

  After one last flick of her wrist, she turned to put down the brush and smiled at the sight of Meg, standing in the doorway watching her. Before she had even said a word, Avery knew Meg was bursting to tell her something. She had a cheeky excitement about her, which reminded Avery of the old Meg.

  As Avery rinsed her brushes and knives, Meg told her about the strange day she had had. ‘It was interesting to say the least,’ Meg said. ‘Simon was like a man possessed. I mean, I’d picked up that something was going on there, but I didn’t realised it ran that deep.’

  ‘So, Simon called her,’ Avery asked.

  ‘Yep, then he ran out the door and brought her back to their studio, in his arms! Bella was shaken up more than anything else; I don’t know if she was physically hurt. I got the feeling they had been through it before. It was like Byron knew the drill,’ Meg said thoughtfully.

  ‘You think Bella’s husband beats her or something?’ Avery put the kettle on to boil.

  ‘Maybe, but it’s not that exactly, just the way Simon rushed to her aid.’ Meg contemplated the intensity of Simon’s response.

  ‘So, he’s a regular knight in shining armour?’

  ‘It seems that way, with this one particular damsel in distress.’

  ‘Or a sign of someone who’s smitten.’

  ‘Hmm. Anyway, drama aside, the job’s going ok. I’m not really doing much, just digging out old stock shots and taking a couple of new stills.’

  A good start, Avery mused. She wondered how long she and Meg were going to dance around the big pink elephant in the room. She wouldn’t push it though. The fact that Meg was even interested in the job at all was a positive sign. Not to mention the dinner and drinks with the Cassidy boys. Avery didn’t know how they did it, but was grateful they, unwittingly, helped Meg take that long overdue leap in the right direction. Avery had witnessed Meg sink into a reclusive depression over the last few months and nothing she could do seemed to help. Maybe she was too soft on Meg. Or maybe Meg needed that outside influence to realise her world wouldn’t fall apart if she moved out of her comfort zone.

  Although Avery didn’t know the full extent of Patrick Heathcliff’s past, she did know her friend. Meg had suffered not only a blow to her confidence but to her faith and trust in people as well. Byron and Simon must be genuinely nice people to have penetrated Meg’s defences. Avery was ashamed to admit that she was a bit envious of the fact that two almost strangers were doing more for Meg in a week than Avery could do in months. But in the end, whatever worked, Avery was glad that she saw a sparkle in Meg for the first time in too long.

  Chapter Six

  When his mobile rang the following day, Simon was pacing the studio and pounced on the phone. ‘Hello?’

  Byron watched his brother deflate as he listened intently to the person on the other end. ‘Don’t be silly ... you know you’re always welcome here ... are you sure? ... I understand ... ok ... bye.’ Simon put the phone down and slumped into the nearest chair. Byron raised an eyebrow in question. ‘She’s gone back to the house. To him.’ Simon put his head in his hands.

  ‘Did you honestly expect this time to be different,’ Byron asked quietly.

  ‘Don’t start on me, By, just don’t start.’

  ‘I’m not starting, I’m just sick of seeing you get hurt.’

  ‘I’m not the one getting hurt.’

  Byron didn’t have a reply to that.

  ‘Let’s just focus on nailing this Ferguson account, ok?’

  They did just that for the best part of the day. Simon turned his frustration and confusion into the energy he needed to complete the mock-up homepage for fergusonrealestate.com.
Byron put the final touches on the new logo and finished the six page mock-up brochure. They were just printing the proof sheets when they heard a car in the driveway.

  Meg knocked on the studio door, hoping she wasn’t interrupting any more drama. But if she only wanted to pick up her things and go, why did she bring afternoon tea with her? She’d just popped into the bakery for a muffin and somehow ended up with enough to share.

  ‘Thank heavens, Meg. Come on in, we desperately need a break.’ Byron stretched his back as he held the door open for her.

  ‘Glad I bought these with me then.’ Meg held up a bag of mini muffins, relieved that everything seemed normal, or at least comfortable, in the studio.

  ‘Come on through and I’ll put the kettle on.’ Byron led Meg to the kitchen. ‘Tea or coffee,’ he asked.

  ‘If you’re perking – I’ll have a coffee, thanks.’ Meg nodded to the tarnished percolator on the stove.

  ‘Great, I’ll join you.’ Byron smiled. ‘What have you been up to today?’

  ‘I’ve spent most of the day editing and tweaking. I was starting to feel my eyes turn pixilated so I thought I’d grab a bite to eat and pick up my note pad and proofs.’ Meg found a plate and laid out the muffins while Byron got out three mugs. ‘What about you guys, busy?’

  ‘Yeah, your timing is perfect actually. We’ve been slogging away at the Ferguson job. We’d love to get a second opinion on it, if you’re keen? We’re presenting in a couple of days and would love any feedback.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll have a look.’ Meg followed Byron back into the studio and placed the muffins on the coffee table. She cupped her mug with two fingers through the handle and settled into an armchair.

  Byron retrieved the crisp, coloured sheets from the printer. ‘Meg’s going to run her eye over these, Simon, to give us a fresh perspective.’