The Art Guy (18+) COMPLETE, FREE to READ

What You Can Do in Ten Minutes

London, December 1992

Kippy knew Katrina was bringing Daisy with her to this party. She could hardly not do it, could she, seeing as they were best friends and she lived with her.

He found himself oddly nervous about seeing her and had spent most of the party so far lurking in the living room, an eye kept permanently on the door. He hadn't heard them come in, but Lillian sought him out later that evening and told him Katrina and her friends were there. Katrina apparently knew Lillian's older, half-sister Dee, who happened to be the one making the programme about food Mick was to star in. And now they were outside talking. Lillian didn't know where Daisy had gone.

"I liked Daisy," she mused. "I've just had a conversation with her. But she's very innocent, isn't she? I can see why she'd make the perfect cover for someone who was really gay."

He felt like defending Daisy at that. Many were the times he'd wished he did feel for Daisy what she felt for him. And her dad had given him plenty to be thankful for.

His door vigilance paid off just then. Daisy and Alfie had come into the room, the two of them scanning the crush of people for familiar faces. Alfie saw him first.

Daisy had changed. She was a little bit taller, a little bit plumper though the puppy fat had always suited Daisy. He recognised the influence of his cousin. The Daisy of old wouldn't have worn an outfit like that. She looked spectacular.

Alife nudged her, and she spotted Kippy too, their eyes meeting across the crowded room and an exchange batting back and forth. If pushed, he would have said she was trying to ask if he'd changed her mind, and his glance back replied that, no, regretfully he hadn't.

Or maybe that was just egotistical of him.

A conversation would be pointless here. He made his way towards them, Lillian behind him. She probably anticipated drama. Or at the very least, she was looking for further insight into Kippy, her friend, and the parts of his life he didn't share with her. He wasn't in the mood for it.

"Alright, Daisy? Alfie?"

Alfie took Lillian to one side. He'd spotted people in another room helping themselves to what looked like Mr Marchmont's prized wine collection. She wailed in dismay and headed off in the direction of the dining room, closely followed by Alfie who had told Kippy that he'd enjoyed a brief spell as a football hooligan a couple of years ago and was handy with his fists.

"You look gorgeous," Kippy told Daisy. They had found a spot on the stairs, out of the way.

She preened and then frowned. "You don't need to say that out of pity."

"I'm not. You do."

"How's art school?" she asked. Sat side by side, they didn't need to look at each other's eyes if they didn't want to.

"I love it. Please tell your dad that from me. Katrina said he's out of prison."

Daisy nodded. "He doesn't know what to do with himself. The chartered accountant lot struck him off. I'll tell him, though. He'll be pleased. Have you...have you got a boyfriend?"

He took her hand. "No-one serious, but I've been seeing one or two people."

Let her make of that what she would.

"You seem very happy."

The words were neutral, an observation and not a complaint.

"I am. In Glasgow, I get to be...me. What about you? Are you with anyone?"

Daisy shuffled on the stair. "No."

"What about that Alfie? He seems okay. For an Englishman."

She giggled at that. "No, he's too in love with Katrina. She just hasn't worked that out yet. Y'know what she's like. I can't give her advice. And she's still head over heels with Mick. Who's a total rat."

"Hey!" his protest was half-hearted, though. Mick was, and always had been, utterly promiscuous. In London, he'd be the kid in a sweet shop. And if he was on TV too... The saying 'if he were made of chocolate, he'd eat himself' could have been invented for him.

He felt oddly close to Daisy. You didn't spend that long with someone and not get to experience intimacy, even if his had been forced.

"I did meet someone I really liked." Where did those words come from and why did he feel the need to tell her?

Daisy, bless her heart, looked pleased for him.

"He said I was too young for him. And I hadn't been 'out' for long enough." Saying the word 'out' still made him feel weird, a comfortableness with his new life notwithstanding.

"Oh? That's a pity," Daisy patted his hand. "Do you think he'll change his mind? I'd fancy you!" She giggled again. When he'd been with her, he'd always been aware that she found him very attractive. It had been wildly flattering.

"Hopefully. In the meantime..." he raised his eyebrows suggestively and pointed at a guy standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Daisy dug an elbow into his ribs. "Men, honestly! One-track minds!"

"I hope you find someone who really loves you, Daisy. You deserve it." It had sounded good in his head, but when he said the words, he cringed. Patronising as hell.

Daisy leant into him. "So do I! I have high hopes for university. I hear Freshers Week is great for getting a ride or ten."

The crudity didn't suit her, just like it often didn't sit right on Lillian. "They'll be queuing up to shag you," he said, playing along. "But they'd better be good to you. Otherwise, I'll kill them."

He pulled himself to his feet and offered her a hand.

The guy at the bottom of the stairs looked ready to exchange an eye meet. As they descended, he put out an arm blocking their way. Daisy ducked under it, her head bobbing up the other side and her smile bright.

"Have a good life, Kippy!" her voice sang out, the pitch unnaturally bright.

He was oblivious. Bottom-of-the stairs-guy had turned to face him straight on. Kippy took in knowing eyes, a solid torso and a huge nose. There was a saying about men with big noses, after all.

"Wanna go down or up?" big-nosed guy said, his voice a slow Yankee drawl. A big, dirty grin. "Down, right?"

There were ten minutes to go until midnight. Kippy had always spent the bells that signalled the New Year in public places, surrounded by crowds all chanting "ten, nine, eight" down till the chimes went out marking the beginning of a new year.

Nine minutes gave him plenty of time.