Shut Up And Drive!

"Oh my, there's even more of your pictures up here. What's in the room on the left?"

"That's my studio, Stella, and it also doubles as my bedroom; stay out of there, please?"

Estelle had her shower and searched through the rack of clothes she found in the dressing room, eventually coming across something not too revealing. As Brenda had suggested she would, Estelle then tracked down the nurse's make-up case and spent some time trying to create her look. She could hear Ted working down in the kitchen, she assumed cooking them some breakfast.

On leaving the dressing room Estelle stopped to admire the art that covered every inch of wall space. But then she began to wonder what pictures Ted could be currently working on, and also what pictures adorned the walls of his studio.

Taking a quick glance down the stairs to make sure that Ted wasn't down there watching her, Estelle quietly opened the door to his studio and tip-toed inside Ted's inner sanctum.

The room was far larger than she'd expected; against one wall stood an unmade bed. Alongside it were two easels both with incomplete paintings on them. At the foot of the bed stood a tall freestanding mirror, positioned Estelle imagined so that someone sitting for a portrait would be able to see themselves in it. There was also an odd collection of chairs, Estelle assumed for Ted's subjects to sit upon.

Stacked along the side of the room, their fronts turned towards the wall, were many canvases. Estelle went over and pulled the first stack away from the wall so that she could look through the paintings one after another. Then she looked at the second stack and then the third. But the first picture in that third stack, took Estelle's breath away, and she physically started.

There was no mistaking the fact that the scantily clad subject of the painting was herself. And so were the next and the next.

"I thought I recalled asking you not to come in here?" Ted's voice suddenly said from behind her; making Estelle jump.

"Ted, that's me in this painting!"

"Not exactly Stella. Actually that one is of Brenda, she just has your face!"

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"Does she have my face?"

"Because I happen to like your face Estelle. I've always liked it, didn't you notice that you are in the mural at the college."

"You know, the girls always said that it looked like me in that mural; but it was too high up for me to see properly."

"It is you Estelle. I didn't have my ideal model here, so I used... bodies as Brenda likes to call them, and then I add your face from my imagination. Oh, bodies with similar attributes to your own of course. That's probably why Brenda thought you'd find something that would fit you, on the rack."

"Don't your models get annoyed that you don't paint their faces?"

"Oh, but I do... I use their faces, on most of the work I sell. But every now and then, I like to indulge my fantasies and paint my ideal woman. I never sell any of those paintings by the way; so you shouldn't ever find yourself being embarrassed or recognised from one. Although, I have entered a few in competitions, up in London. You've won me a medal or two over the years actually.

"I'm not a stalker Estelle. Stalkers follow people around and that sort of thing. You know I don't even know where you live! I'm an artist; many years ago I found my ideal subject and I've enjoyed painting her ever since."

"But this is one of me on my wedding day?"

"Ah yes, well, I was there that day; I'll admit that. I took some snaps and painted that one from them."

"You know I think I saw you that day. You kept your crash helmet on, didn't you?"

"Yeah well, I hoped I wasn't being too obvious."

"But this is of me and my father; surely it should have been Roger there outside the church?"

"Artists licence Stella. You surely couldn't expect me, to paint you holding hands with Roger. You looked so beautiful in that dress."

"Ted, were you in love with me?"

"Am I in love with you don't you mean, Stella? And to be honest, I don't know. I love your face... your figure and your hair. But I never did get to know who Estelle actually was!"

"Not a nice person Ted, I can assure you of that. I thought I did, but I'm not sure now that I ever really loved Roger. I'm not sure I even understand what love is! Mind you, I'm sure that Roger never really loved me either. It was a business thing with him; Roger's father did a lot of business with my father, so we were both preferred candidates as in-laws, if you understand me?

"I think maybe it was against my better judgement, that I married him. It worked for a while, but the parents don't do so much business together nowadays and Roger appears to have taken to... well, playing the field a little too often for my liking! That's what I was planning last night, you know; a big scene in the pub. But Roger and his latest floozy didn't show.

"I suppose it's lucky he didn't, in a way; there'd have been repercussions. Divorce can be so... messy."

"I can't see the point in living with the idiot, if he doesn't love you, and you don't love him, Stella."

"I agree, but if I do divorce him, what will I do? I've never gone out of my way to make myself popular with anyone; you know that! If I throw-out Roger; then I'll have no friends or social life left at all, or very few friends anyway."

"I'd say that they're not your friends to start with then, Stella. Roger's friends more like! Drop that bloody high and mighty act you used to have all the time at college and I'm sure you'll soon find plenty of new friends. Now get that pert backside of yours downstairs and let's eat; I'm starving!"

-

"You are a funny man Ted!" Estelle said as they drank their after breakfast coffees.

"Surely you've got that wrong Stella, disagreeable most people would say. You know I have to sell my paintings from here, because I can't get-on with any of the gallery owners. Too much up their own stuffed shirt arses for my liking, all of them."

"Like, I was back at college, you mean?"

"Yeah well, you could say that! My trouble is, I come from the wrong side of town and I've no patience with the Hooray 'Enries of this world. You always have been something different though, Stella!"

"Yeah, you thought that you loved me, and I never had a clue that you were even interested in me that way; too stuck-up to notice! Ted I just never contemplated it, and that makes me the fool, not you. You know that you always have been just about the most handsome... tearaway, I've ever known.

"Oh, I remember you from our college days all right, and I can recall thinking that you were so good looking back then. But I never even thought to get to know you... or actually I should say, allow you to get to know me; you did try once as I recall. If I had, then maybe life would have been different for both of us."

"In what way?"

"Well, I somehow doubt I'd have married Roger Cooper for a start. And, your paintings would be on sale in all the top galleries in the country."

Ted went to speak, but Estelle quieted him with a wave of her hand.

"I am one of your Hooray Henries, Ted! I know exactly how to handle those buggers. And how argue their commissions down as well. Your paintings are good... better than good, they're bleeding brilliant. Ted, I'm sure that if we'd worked together, you'd be more famous than Hockney by now

"Hey, don't get carried away kid. I paint what I like to paint and none of this avant-garde or pop rubbish. Anyway, I think we'd better think about getting you home before your husband calls out the National Guard or something."

Disappointed at Ted's reaction to her little speech... suggestion, Estelle had hoped... but she had to agree with Ted.

In fact she had taken a serious fancy to the notion of sitting for Ted, and maybe helping him sell his work. Not that Ted appeared to be struggling in that direction; quite a few pictures on the house walls had 'sold' stickers on them.

-

"Damn-it Roger's not here and I haven't got my keys; I can't get in!" Estelle exclaimed as Ted pulled up in the street outside her house.

"How do you know?"

"His car is not in the drive Ted; Roger never can be bothered to put it in the garage."

"Perhaps he's out scouring the countryside, looking for you. I know I'd be climbing the ruddy walls if my missus hadn't come home all night. I'll bet he's down the police station reporting you missing!"

"No, knowing Roger like I do, I'd say he's on the seventh or eighth tee by now. Roger always plays a round on Sunday mornings; then he adjourns to nineteenth for a skinful before lunch. He's going to get pulled for drink driving one of these days."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Ted, I know my husband and I doubt he even realised that I hadn't been home all night. Basically because he spent the night with his tart somewhere. He probably arrived home this morning and assumed I'd gone to my mother's house to avoid a scene. Pretty regular for Sundays, around here! Hang on, I'll check."

Ted watched as Estelle, got out of the car, walked over and looked through the garage window. He saw her head nod as she spied whatever she'd been looking for.

"He's out on the course all right; his damned golf trolley is missing. I can't believe that he didn't notice that I'd not been home all night. The newspaper would have been lying on the mat and there was no coffee made or anything; even the dishwasher must still be loaded."

"Perhaps he just never noticed!"

"Ted, he noticed, Roger just doesn't care! Mind you, he'd go apoplectic if he saw me in your car. Roger can get very... protective, of what he considers, his private property. But he doesn't own me, not by a long chalk!"

"How were you intending to get in Stella, if you haven't got your keys with you. Do you want me to...?"

"My God, no Ted! The house is alarmed; half the county constabulary would be here in minutes. My house keys are in my handbag in the boot of my car."

"And your car?"

"That's parked at a friend's house near to that pub I was in last night. I had to hide it or Roger might have seen it and realised that I was there, waiting for him."

"Okay we'll go get your keys from your car then. But the Doc said that you couldn't drive until tomorrow."

"Great idea but we can't get into my car until later. The girl I left the car keys with, was taking her children out somewhere today. She won't be home until about four."

"Well you can't sit on the bloody doorstep all day, Stella; what are you going to do; your parents house?"

"No thanks Ted; too much explaining to do. I'll leave meeting them until after Roger and I have had this thing out. Either he gives up all his philandering, or he's out of here."

Ted gave Estelle an enquiring glance.

"The house, Ted; it's not communal property. Actually it belongs to an offshore company; but guess whose father is the major share holder."

"So where to then?" Ted smiled back at her.

"How about we head off somewhere nice for lunch?"

"Stella, unlike you I wasn't comatose for most of the night. I got the odd nap in, but I could do with a shower myself and with getting my head down for a little while."

"Fine, we'll go back to your place then, and I'll... well, I'm sure I can find something to keep me occupied. My head still doesn't feel too good anyway!"

Back at his cottage, Estelle began to wander round, perusing his many paintings. So Ted excused himself and headed upstairs to have his shower and then take a short nap.

--

An hour or so later, when he woke, Ted was instantly aware that he was not alone in his studio; he could hear Estelle breathing.

Opening his eyes, Ted saw her sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back towards him. She had moved the long mirror so she could see him in his bed by glancing at it. And she had all his paintings of herself lined-up along the wall; Estelle appeared to be studying them intently.

"I wasn't aware that you had a narcissistic streak, Stella!" Ted commented, surprising her.

Actually as he said it, Ted wasn't quite sure that it was the right thing to say.

"Oh I don't think... Hey, maybe you're right there, Ted! You know maybe that's why I've always been such a bitch."

"I wasn't being serious, Stella!"

"No, I understand that Ted. But there has to be some reason that I was so... narrow minded when I was younger. I had my head stuck so far up my arse that I didn't see... well you remember how I was back then."

"You're perspective has changed as you got older then, has it?"

"Yes, I suppose it has. But I didn't know how much it had changed until this morning. Today I've learnt that I've missed-out on something in life."

"Oh, and exactly what have you missed-out on, Stella?"

But Estelle didn't answer Ted's question.

"Ted, have you any idea, just how flattering it is to see all these wonderful paintings of myself?"

"I've never thought about it Stella. I just enjoy creating the pictures."

"But they are so wonderful; that one of me on the horse... that's Toby from the riding school, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I went up there and took a couple of snaps of him. It's chance, that you recognise him."

"Not chance Ted; I used to ride Toby every week until they had to retire him. Lovely animal, they had to put him down eventually though; too old. I miss Toby! But why the habit, I've never ridden side-saddle in my life?"

"I had a commission to paint a woman who'd won some dressage competition. I liked the picture, but not so much the subject... actually she even made Estelle Partridge appear sociable!"

"Touché!" Estelle, smiled at him.

Ted smiled back at her.

"So I painted the picture again, from a slightly different angle; changing the horse and the rider... oh, and the background."

"In effect you changed just about everything; painted a completely different picture!"

"No, the riding habit is the same. It's the only one I've ever had a good look at. The wearer's proportions are somewhat different though. I'm not quite sure how that animal ever managed to carry that woman!"

"I'll take that as flattery, if I may. Anyway, this picture of me in my wedding dress and the riding one. Are they for sale; how much do you want for them?"

"I haven't sold any of the pictures I've painted of you, Stella?"

"I know, you told me earlier; but how much do you want for these two?"

"I won't sell them to you Stella. If you want them, take them; they are yours. I can always paint another."

"I'd like to pay for them, Ted; like a commission."

"No, they are yours Stella! Any of those pictures of yourself, you may have whenever you want them."

"Thank you I will take those two, if you don't mind. I know exactly where they will hang in my parents' house. They'll replace a couple of photographs that I'm sure my parents will shortly be taking down. But then I'd like to commission you to paint another portrait of myself. One that I hope will show the new me!"

"The new you?"

"Yes, the one that... you, created this morning!"

"You've lost me girl!"

"Never mind, I know what I'm talking about... I think! And you'll understand eventually, I promise!"

"Yeah, anything you say Stella. Hadn't we better go and get your house keys now?"

"Yes we could, after I've taken you somewhere for lunch. I owe you that at least!"

"Stella you've no access to your handbag remember, it's locked in your car!"

"Ted, daft I might be; but I never go anywhere with out my little plastic friend!" There's a little pocket sewn into the cocktail dress I was wearing last evening."

"Ooh, cocktail dress!"

"Don't mock me please Ted, I was trying to... well remind Roger exactly what he could loose. See, I just said it, I can be really daft sometimes; I wouldn't give two pins for Roger anymore. Anyway if you can get your backside in gear... is that right?"

"Your arse, Stella!"

"Okay, right. If you can get your arse in gear, Ted; I'll take you out for a real slap-up roast somewhere. It is Sunday after-all."

"I'll need to get dressed Stella."

"That's fine, I can look the other way."

"Stella, you're looking in the bleeding mirror!"

So what's your problem, you're not shy are you? You can't shock me Ted; I doubt you've got anything Roger hasn't got!"

Exasperated and slightly tired of minding his manners around Estelle, Ted climbed out of bed.

"Ted, maybe I got that a little wrong!"

"Sorry?" Ted replied, struggling into his jeans.

"The girls at college... they always said that it was a rolled-up sock!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Stella."

"Never mind, Ted. It's not important; I don't think. If it is, I'll worry about it later!"

"You're babbling worse than you were last night Stella; come on let's get moving before the pubs shut!"

--

They enjoyed a meal together - that Ted insisted on paying for - then they took a short walk along by the river, before retrieving Estelle's handbag from the boot of her car. Ted did not get out of his vehicle at Estelle's friend's place and neither did she go inside the house. But he thought Estelle was an inordinately long time standing at the door talking with her friend.

When his ears began to feel warm, Ted looked across and Estelle's friend - who Ted vaguely recalled from his college days - waved at him. Feeling a little embarrassed, Ted meekly waved back at her. But eventually Estelle retrieved her handbag from her Jaguar's boot and climbed back into the passenger seat.

"That took longer than I expected." Ted commented.

"Yeah sorry; we had a lot to talk about."

"You did, but you must have seen her yesterday."

"Yeah socks, and I had to tell Marie about last night... what I can remember of it, and this morning!"

"What's this preoccupation with socks?"

"Nothing important, Ted, I told you! Humour me please, and don't ask again. Just assume that I've gone a little scatty; that's what Marie thinks I've done anyway."

Ted glanced across at Estelle and noticed that she'd gone very red in the face. He realised that she was obviously embarrassed about something.

He also noticed that Estelle became very quiet and more and more agitated as they approached her house. Exactly why he wasn't sure, but he assumed she was preparing herself for a confrontation with her husband.

Ted wondered which argument was going to take precedence, Estelle challenging her husband about his girlfriend, or Roger Cooper flying of the hook about Estelle being out all night; surely he must have worked that out by now. And then of course, there was the fact that a strange man was driving her home; but then again, if he could get away a bit sharpish, Estelle's husband might think she'd come home in a taxi.

Not that Ted wanted too disappear in a hurry; there was this uncontrollable instinct he had to protect this woman. He couldn't explain it, it was just an urge that he'd had since he'd first laid eyes on her many years before.

As he pulled his car to the curb outside Estelle's house, Ted saw the front door open and Roger Cooper appeared in the doorway.

"Well, here goes; wish me luck!"

"There's no luck involved Stella, I'm sure you're a mental match for Roger; or most men, if it comes to that!"

"Cheers, but don't go yet... please?"

"Your request is my command milady. If Roger looses control of himself physically, I'll make sure that you come to no harm. The chucking insults at each other, I'll leave to you two though; it's really none of my business."

Ted couldn't get his head around the smile that came over Estelle's face as he spoke.

When he looked back at the house again, Ted noticed that Roger Copper was by then sporting a large golf wood in his right hand.

"Ah! That type! The buggers going to come after you Teddy my boy; better prepare yourself!" He thought to himself as he slipped off his seatbelt, and released the catch on the door. Ted would prefer that his car didn't get damaged; so if it became necessary, he'd meet Roger Cooper well before he got too close to the vehicle.