Butterflies (boyxboy)

Chapter 4: The deal

"Let me paint you!"

☆

Henry leaves his bedroom, dressed for work, but still yawning furiously. He hated working weekends. He heads to the kitchen, but is even more surprised to see Blake sat at the table, fully dressed as if ready to go somewhere. "Why the hell are you up?" Henry questions, still scratching his tired head. 

"I wanna go and buy something." Blake says, rather eagerly.

"Oh yeah? I thought you were broke." Henry says, pulling some orange juice from the fridge and drinking straight from the carton. 

"I am, but this can't wait. I have a bit of money left from the Paris gig and I had two meetings yesterday, so I'm hoping to at least get something."

This gets Henry's interest. He sits opposite Blake and folds his arms as he leans back. "What's so important that you wanna risk being broke?" 

Blake sighs whimsically, looking a little into the distance. "A work of art." 

Henry bursts out laughing, slamming a hand on the table. "What is this I'm hearing? You want to buy a what?...a picture?"

Blake just looks at Henry a little offended. "I don't expect you to get it, but it was of St Ives. You know how I feel about home." 

Henry clears his throat and straightens himself up in his seat. "I'm sorry for laughing. I know the place means a lot to you, I just... Are you sure you want to spend your last penny on a painting?"

"Like I said...you wouldn't understand." Blake huffs. No one really did understand why he, who had been halfway across the world, couldn't bring himself to go to the place he came from, especially as it clearly meant so much to him. 

***

A bus ride later and Blake is walking once again down the quaint cobbled street. As his steps get closer to the small gallery, he can feel his heart pick up a beat. The urge to get there as quick as possible, evermore pressing. What if the painting isn't there anymore? What if he's too late and someone else has bought it? 

He soon reaches the shop front, peering through the window, he sees the picture still hanging in its place. Blake finds himself breathing out a sigh of relief and goes to enter the shop, but again the door doesn't budge. 

He steps back, seeing the closed shop sign once again. He curses under his breath. Who closes on a Sunday these days? He looks up and down the street to see that the whole place seems to be closed for the day. He tries the door one last time to check, though he knew it was pointless, before heading once again down the street in disappointment. "A waste of a day" he mutters to himself. 

***

"I'm all done." Tamesh says mainly to himself, though Alfie also hears the words and comes across from replenishing glass jars with sweets to take a look at the freshly painted mural. 

"Woah! That's amazing!" Alfie is almost rendered speechless. Tamesh lets a smile of accomplishment spread over his face. "If we don't get more customers through our doors now, I will be surprised."

"Yeah. Well I hope you're right Alfie. I guess we will have to wait and see." Tamesh sighs, though it is a sigh of hope. 

A short time passes and he is ready to take his cart of supplies back across to his place. He bids Alfie goodbye as he pulls the wheels across the cobbled street. Tamesh was ready for a bath and something to eat, before continuing with his painting of the still life set up in his studio.

He is about to push the key into the lock when he gets distracted by someone talking. "Hey! Excuse me..."

Tamesh looks to see the white baseball cap guy, literally on his shoulder. He pulls back, automatically shielding his face with his arms. "I have no money on the premises!" He blurts out.

Blake looks at the guy confused. "I just wanna get into your shop." 

"Well you can't! I'll call the police!" Tamesh grabs the nearest thing he can find to defend himself with, which happens to be a used paintbrush. 

Blake looks at the wet brush pointing at his face. He knocks it to one side with his hand. "Seriously?" He says, raising an eyebrow. Is this how you treat all your customers?" 

"Customers?" Tamesh questions, lowering his brush a little more. "You seemed to be acting suspicious. I saw you earlier, staring through the window, trying the door." 

"Like I said, I wanna buy a painting, but you're always closed...I mean, who closes on a Sunday these days?" Blake now upturns his palms in question. 

"Hey! I'm not in some department store, It's just me. I have a life you know!" Tamesh says defensively. Yes... he did have a life... well if he wasn't in his shop trying to sell his paintings, he was usually in his studio trying to paint. That was his life.

There was a moment of silence before Blake again spoke. "So, are you open or not, I want to buy a painting." 

Tamesh thinks for a minute. Technically he wasn't open, but he couldn't afford to turn down trade. Especially when they seemed so persistent. He lowers the brush, letting it drop back into the cart. "Ok, follow me." He says, again turning the key in the door, pulling his cart inside, with Blake following behind. Once inside, he locks the door behind him. 

Blake looks warily at the fact he has been locked in. "Why did you do that?" He says, gesturing at the door. 

"Like I said, I don't open Sundays. I don't want everyone walking in off the street." Tamesh says, switching on the atmospheric shop lights and heading around the counter. 

Blake looks out at the deserted street through the window. "I think you might be safe there pal!" He says sarcastically.

"Look I'm doing you a favour here. I could have told you to come back tomorrow." Tamesh says, rather offended. 

"Sorry." Blake half smiles, cleaning his throat. He then looks up at the reason why he is here in the first place. "So I want to buy that painting." He points over Tamesh's shoulder at the seascape. 

Tamesh turns to look at the painting, a smile spreading across his face. What was it with that place on the wall which made people buy his paintings? "My seascape." He says.

"Yes, that's it. How much?" Blake asks, almost impatiently, pulling out his wallet from the back of his jeans.

"£200."

"How much?" Blake nearly drops said wallet on the floor.

"£200." Tamesh repeats. 

"That's a bit much don't you think?" Blake questions. "Can you discount it?" 

"No I can't!" Tamesh says, rather defensively. "I devoted 60 hours to that painting. 60 hours of my time, and my resources! £200 for 60 hours of work is more than fair." 

Tamesh had him there. Blake's last job two weeks ago was for a 4 hours photo shoot and he more or less got the same payment. He sighs. "Can I at least pay a deposit? I need that painting." 

Tamesh can see the need in Blake's eyes to possess the painting for whatever reason. Blake's eyes....Tamesh didn't know how to explain it but there was something in those eyes which captured him. They conveyed such emotion, such passion, such conviction that the bright idea suddenly struck him. "Ok, but on one condition."

Blake looks at Tamesh a little warily. "What?"

"Let me paint you."