On Thursday morning I had a relatively easy journey into work, not that it is ever difficult. I get on the bus where I live, we trundle along for a bit, I ring the bell and then I get off the bus in Chedworth and toddle up the hill to the Gallery, simple! I think Arty was amazed this morning because I arrived on time, my bus never runs to time it doesn’t matter what time of the day it is it’s always late regardless of which direction your journey takes you.
I made my way through the front door into the back office. Arty was already working and preparing his equipment in readiness for an appointment he was attending Cirencester on Friday afternoon. It was another portrait commission, he’d been painting quite a few of those recently, not all in the same place but around and about, I would hazard a guess that he would travel far and wide but never be too far from home.
‘Ah, Bea, you’re early this morning.’ He said calmly ‘I’ve got your train tickets and I’ve booked you into a hotel for the weekend. Can I make a suggestion, just grab a cab from the Station to your hotel, ask for a receipt and I’ll settle that one up with you when you come back to work on Monday. Okay and one other thing before I forget Bea, on Saturday make your way over to The Lowry Hotel, you have an appointment with Miss Niamh Pedersen of Pedersen Profiles at 2pm. Go to the reception desk and ask for Niamh, she will be expecting you.’ He handed me a large brown envelope which contained all the info that I would need for my weekend away. ‘Here are your train tickets and paperwork.’ I took the envelope from him and placed it inside my bag.
‘Okay Arty, thanks for that. Now what would you like, tea or coffee?‘ I asked.
Erm, a milky coffee would be lovely, Bea‘ He replied. ‘You can go home a bit earlier today if you would like to. Give you a bit of time to pack your things together and have a bit of time to relax before you leave in the morning. Just remember that if you’ve got any problems, any problems at all, I’m just at the end of the phone, you can call me, and I will advise you to the best of my abilities, but just try to do your best and most of all make sure you enjoy it. It will be an exhilarating experience for you.’
I made Arty a very milky coffee in a rather large china mug and got on with my work. I tidied the front shop and then set to and made sure that the booking diary was up to date. Telephoned a few possible clients as there had been a few new people just making general enquiries too. I did the filing, typed up a few letters, waded my way through the day’s post and sorted the orders for the canvas prints that were to be collected from the shop on Friday morning, before Arty closed up for the afternoon and went off to Cirencester.
The day soon zoomed by, I was nearly up to date with my work when I realised that I hadn’t stopped all morning, lunch time had been and gone and the afternoon had rolled around already I glanced up at the clock which was showing three o’clock. Arty came into the shop from the studio out the back.
‘Bea, I thought you were going to go home a bit earlier today?’ He asked.
‘I was,’ I replied ‘I’ve just been so engrossed with everything, I didn’t notice the time. All my work is now up-to-date though.’
‘Well, go on, gather your bits and bobs and I’ll see you on Monday morning, sharp.’ He laughed.
I grabbed my bag and I wandered to the bus stop and waited for the bus to take me home. The bus as usual was late and I got home at just after four o’clock.
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