Helping Sarah

Chapter 23

Sarah

Michael was right. Working from his house with no distractions, either from Charlie or Lenny, meant that my paid assignment was redone in no time at all. The instructions for the window cleaner wasn't what had fared the worst in the fire and were fairly easy to redo. The moment it was sent off, I put it out of my mind and picked up a bright blue pen.

Though his home office wasn't optimal in that I didn't have all my equipment here, we had brought back enough from the flat that I could get started on the new GoatRace drawings.

We had returned to Michael's house for lunch and Charlie's nap after spending the morning cleaning the flat, and then Michael and a delighted Charlie had left me to work. When next I looked up, two hours had passed and I had several new drawings on the desk before me, some coloured in, of baby goats in sweaters, scarfs and pyjamas.

Stretching my arms above my head, I looked over my work with a satisfied smile. I'd done good.

I had only been told the general outline of Mo Malik's planned stories, and the brief I had received from Mr Gillett had only said that the goats needed to be cute enough for children to love them. And at the bottom of the page, almost as an afterthought, good enough for Mr Bradford to approve the use of them outside of the games.

I hadn't had time to redo all of the drawings, but I really liked what I'd managed today. They might even be better than the ones that had been ruined in the fire.

I could only hope that Mr Bradford would like them too.

Chewing on my lip, I picked up the nearest drawing and tried to see it as he would. The creator of GoatRace had done a wonderful job of making the characters cute, but for a children's book they needed personalities too.

I had just had to look at Charlie to find my inspiration; a small goat bubbling with happy exuberance, a goat grouchy at nap time, a goat hungry enough to start eating before the plate had been put down, and a goat so tired it fell asleep standing up.

And my favourite; a baby goat snuggling up to its mother.

But I was biased. Maybe Mr Bradford would prefer another style entirely.

Sighing, I let myself fall back in the comfortable, high-backed chair in Michael's office and let my gaze wander to the garden outside the large windows. I had a week before my presentation, and at this speed I should be able to finish enough new drawings that Mr Gillett and Mr Bradford need never know the first ones had been ruined.

A week to pray and perfect my work. It wasn't that rent and groceries were contingent on my getting this job, but Charlie was growing and his clothes seemed to be perpetually either too small the week after I'd bought it or torn at the knees after he'd worn it twice.

A week to worry whether my work was good enough.

A snort escaped me. I hadn't had much time to worry about the presentation until now. Worrying about Lenny had taken precedence, but thanks to Michael there was now room for other worries in my mind. And more pleasant things.

Such as Michael. A smile curved my lips and a few sensations made their presence known as my hands slid down the armrests and I arched my back. The very soft armrests.

Gliding my fingers back and forth, I looked down. The frame of the chair was made in some kind of shining material that looked to never have seen a greasy hand, and the seat and armrests were brown leather, the softest leather I had ever felt.

I would have to keep Charlie away. One jam-smeared hand and the chair would be ruined, and I dared not consider how much it had cost.

In fact, I would do best to keep Charlie out of Michael's office all together.