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movement. More embarrassment.
    Drusilla shook her head. “That’s camp.”
    â€œHands clasped behind your back.”
    â€œThat’s one of the royals on a visit.”
    Each adjustment brought an extra disturbance to Davy’s person and to the trio from Priory Park School.
    Finally arms folded got the nod from Drusilla and everyone else.

4
    T he whole class were invited to the next Saturday session at Fortiman House. Mel and two others, Anita and Gail, were to have their turn in the studio with the artists. The rest would work on landscape outside.
    Jem said to Ella, “I’d give a lot to see Mel’s face when Davy strips off.”
    â€œShe knows what to expect. We told her.”
    â€œYeah, but you know Mel. Remember how she fainted when the condom was passed round in that sex lesson?”
    â€œThat was ages ago.”
    â€œAnd we’re not going to let her forget it.”
    Mel was an open goal for teasing. Her father had been a humble workman—a “hole-in-the-road” man, as Jem had categorised him. The fact that he’d been killed when his drill had hit an electric cable hadn’t met with much sympathy from her schoolmates. In the eyes of the group people who worked outdoors knew they were taking risks. Mel’s mother had married again—to a bricklayer—and they never attended parents’ evenings.
    On this fine, clear morning, it was warm enough for Jem and Ella to set up their easels on the lawn in front of the house.
    â€œAre you doing the whole building?” Ella asked.
    â€œNo.”
    â€œIt’d take too long, wouldn’t it? I was thinking of making sketches of bits of it, like those weird chimneys.”
    â€œGood idea.”
    â€œSo what are you going to draw?”
    â€œTom’s MG.”
    They worked steadily until the mid-morning break, when Mel and the others emerged from the studio. Tea and coffee were being served from the kitchen at the back of the house.
    â€œSo?” Jem said when they’d managed to corner Mel.
    â€œSo what?”
    â€œCome off it, Orphan Annie. You know what we’re dying to hear about. What did you think of Davy?”
    â€œWho do you mean?”
    â€œThe model, dorkbrain.”
    â€œThere isn’t a model. We’re doing still life, a big Chinese vase and some drapes.”
    â€œReally? What a letdown.”
    â€œNot for me. I’m enjoying myself. It’s amazing how everyone in there is dealing with it. Tom lets us move about and talk to the artists and they’re really friendly—well, most of them are.”
    â€œExcept Geraint?”
    â€œThe man with the knives? He’s a bit strange, yes, and he goes at the canvas like he’s paintballing. A dollop of red carried right across the room and hit the woman opposite on the cheek. She wasn’t pleased. I don’t think he said sorry.”
    â€œWhat did Tom do?”
    â€œDidn’t seem to notice. I think he admires Geraint’s work.”
    â€œDid he tell you to look at it, then?”
    Mel nodded. “To me, it looked a mess. I couldn’t see it had anything to do with the vase. I didn’t say so to Tom. He thinks I’m too careful anyway. He says I’ve got to break out, whatever that means. Like, there’s a guy in there drawing cartoons of us all.”
    â€œManny,” Ella said. “He’s fun. Have you spoken to him yet?”
    Mel shook her head. “You know me. I find it difficult going up to people.”
    â€œTom’s got a point,” Jem said, winking at Ella. “You’ve got to break out.”
    â€œHe was talking about my art.”
    â€œAre you working in charcoal?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTry smudging. That ought to please him.”
    â€œMaybe I will.”
    â€œI mean really make a dog’s dinner of it, don’t just blur the lines. Go for it like that woman who gets black all over her face and clothes.