Poison Heart Read Free

understatement – I could have died of happiness on the spot. I nervously studied my feet. ‘Does that mean we’re … you know … together.’
    He squeezed my hand and stared directly into my eyes. ‘We’re together.’ He didn’t look away for a second and I was drawn into the intensity of his gaze, noticing theperfect arch of his brow and his ridiculously thick lashes. ‘There’s something I have to tell you.’
    ‘What’s that?’ I was instantly worried.
    His lips curved upwards. ‘The painting … it’s of you.’
    I covered my face. ‘When can I see it?’
    ‘Not until it’s finished … I’m painting it from memory.’
    The idea that he knew my face well enough to paint was completely mind-blowing. I wanted to savour the moment, but he made a sudden suggestion that sounded more like a command. ‘Let’s go out.’
    With barely enough time to grab my bag, I felt myself being dragged out of his studio and down three flights of stairs. ‘Where to?’ I panted.
    ‘Anywhere.’
    There was a fleeting glimpse of Merlin’s mother taking her art class in the conservatory, the living room with its mismatched furniture, brightly coloured canvases and oriental rugs, the dining room with an enormous trestle table and the kitchen with an original range oven, quarry tiles and giant dresser. There were humane mousetraps in a couple of the corners and the weird thought came to me that even the vermin in Merlin’s house were hopelessly cool.
    We finally stood outside, breathing in the last rays of summer, which seemed more special somehow because it was a last farewell to the sun before winter killed everything off. We dawdled along the canal and then through the railway arch into the town. Merlin stood out from the crowd, and people stared at him and then at me because I was withhim. I laughed and moved as close as I could to him. We reached a cafe, La Tasse, a trendy espresso-type place filled with businessmen with their laptops and ladies lunching. We sat in a booth by the window on cream leather seats positioned back to back like in a railway carriage. We were newly together, and I figured we must be generating some kind of energy. Even the waitress did an about-take when she noticed us, and I rested one hand on Merlin’s arm as he ordered our drinks.
    This was how it felt to be one of those bright girls with the world at their feet, the type who expected to be happy instead of just apologizing for taking up space in the universe. At a party once, something strange had happened to me – I actually sparkled. Everyone laughed at my jokes, girls talked to me like I was someone and boys wanted to dance with me. I knew something magical was in the air and I wasn’t really me that night – invisible Katy. This other person was still there inside, but she never came out again. When I was with Merlin I almost dared to dream I could be the other girl – the best of me.
    Merlin watched me drink my latte and kissed the froth off my top lip. With flushed faces and excited smiles we sat side by side in the booth and talked about our plans for the future. We imagined his first art exhibition and my first fashion show. We talked about Rome, Venice and Paris as if these amazing cities were there just waiting for us to conquer them. Merlin looked down at the table and fiddled distractedly with a spoon.
    ‘There’s something else, Katy.’ For a moment he struggled to continue, and his face was so attractive, his eyes wide and beseeching, generous mouth parted slightly, his voice husky. ‘I’m not great at relationships … girls expect me to phone when I’m painting, and they seem to get so jealous over nothing …’
    ‘I don’t get jealous,’ I interrupted hastily. ‘I’m the least jealous person around.’
    ‘I sensed that,’ he answered with relief. ‘I felt you were different … and completely special.’
    I was dreamily hanging on his every word, happy that Merlin seemed to be letting his guard down,