Livia: Part 3

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by Astra1928

by Astra1928

It was two months later. Livia had settled in to life at Button House. She became good friends with Alison. It all started when Livia saw a half-finished painting by Alison hanging in the corner.

"Alison! I didn't know you painted! A fellow artist at last!" she said. Alison blushed and scratched her head. "Yeah, it's just a hobby. I don't have much time at the moment." Then her eyes lit up. " I know! What if, under your guidance, I can complete your watercolour painting? Mike can mend the bullet hole."

"That sounds amazing!" Livia nodded her head vigorously. They walked off together, discussing painting methods nerdily.

Thomas stepped out of the shadows, hands clasped to his chest and eyes shining. "An artist! Well, admittedly, I am poet, she a painter, but it is the same field really. An artist! I can barely believe it! We must be soulmates!" He wandered off, in a haze of romance.

Thomas found them that afternoon, sitting beside each other and painting. Livia supervised almost every brushstroke, almost as if she were a film director and Alison an actress or camerawoman. Thomas remarked that she showed as much love and attention to the painting as if it were her child.

Child. What would their child look like? Oh stop it, Thomas. It was just too much for his Romantic poet brain. Two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, sitting next to each other, painting. Oh what a sight. An irresistible sight.

Then something in his brain clicked. Two loves? Two? A man of honour must only have one. A gentleman cannot flit between two loves. It seems unfaithful, weak, impressionable, indecisive. He held his head in his hands. Which one to choose? Oh, what a dilemma!

He let out a small noise of pain and ran out of the room with his head still cradled in his hands.

Alison looked round surprised, and so did Livia. "Was that... Thomas?" Livia asked. "Yeah," Alison replied. "He's always dramatic, but something tells me he's in some sort of mental turmoil. Those poets always are. I'll go and find him." She sighed, reaching to put down the paintbrush.

Livia rose from her seat suddenly. "No, no, you just carry on painting. I can console him. Artist to artist, Ghost to Ghost, you know." She smiled strainedly. Alison looked doubtful. "Alright, but be warned. He's a lot to handle. From what I know, he's probably in the bathtub."

"The bathtub?" Livia asked. "Yes. It's his "place of solitude". Alison rolled her eyes, but there was still a shadow of worry over her face. She reluctantly picked the paintbrush back up as Livia bustled out of the room.

She whispered under her breath "That girl doesn't know what she's signed up for."