Black Velvet

Meeting the Wife - Chapter 6

"I think the main issue she has with me is just that she doesn't like my work. I've tried to work her towards it and have even made a few pieces more tailored to what she likes but at the end of the day she's just down right rude to me whenever we talk to each other," Deb rambled, scooping ladles of tomato sauce into the pasta she had just cooked.

"Mhm," I said, unable to concentrate on what she was saying.

"I think inviting her round tonight was a good idea though, you know what I mean? She's bringing Eliza as well and on the most part we get on pretty good. Hopefully having a couple glasses of wine with them both and she may soften."

It was Saturday night, it was raining heavily and Alex was pestering me to go out for drinks with her and Georgina. Although I wanted to see Alex my mind kept wondering to different places. I wanted to tell them about Mr. Way but I knew it would be a stupid idea to let anything slip to my new 'friends'. I even considered telling Deb but I knew she wouldn't take it well, however calm and collected she wanted to appear. Telling dad was out of the question, I didn't even want to consider what he would say. I started to scoop out the pasta into bowls, Deb's voice ringing in the background.

"Amelia!" she suddenly said, making me jump suddenly and drop a spoon full of pasta to the floor, "What's on going on? You're barely listening to me, you got something on your mind?" she said, her hands placed on both my shoulders, her eyes wide and concerned.

"I don't know, I feel unsettled that's all. I'm just getting used to school and the people there," I replied, staring into her eyes, trying to be as genuine as possible.

"You sure that's it?" Deb asked, apprehension laced in her voice. I nodded and smiled, hastily shaking her hands off my shoulders to pick up the pieces of pasta, "well talk to me if you need me, okay?"

I made a conscience effort to answer her and reply to what she was telling me. I didn't want her to press me further. The evening drew on and I spent most of it in my room although I told Alex I was at an art opening with Deb. Eventually I managed to drag myself downstairs to help Deb out and be sociable.

"Hey Eliza, it's nice seeing you again," I smiled tiredly as I walked into the lounge, giving her a one armed hug. Eliza had occasionally worked with Deb on a few projects back where we used to live. She was short, skinny and had cropped bleached hair with a thick heavy fringe.

"Amelia, hi!" she beamed, "This is Abbie, I don't think you've met," she introduced, standing aside. I assumed Abbie was the woman Deb had been so wound up about.

"Hi Amelia, it's nice to meet you," Abbie said carefully, extending her hand towards me. I took it and shook it gently. Her fingers were covered in different rings, her nails painted a dark purple. She was wearing a tight black dress with a sheer black shirt on top. Through her shirt I could see she had different tattoos up and down her arms and a black and white snake crept out of her collar up onto her pale neck. Her hair was black and bundled up onto her head with bright red chopsticks.

I always thought about getting tattoos but could never think of anything I would want forever. Taylor had one on her hip of a flower but she said she regretted it and wanted it covered up when she could afford it.

"Are you and Deb working together?" I asked cautiously, taking a seat on the sofa next to Deb and allowing her to pour me a glass of wine.

"Debra and I have different ideas, I think but maybe one day we could collaborate on something," Abbie said delicately. Deb hated being called Debra, I could almost sense her inwardly flinch.

"That's too bad, I love Deb's work, it's beautiful," I commented, Abbie's smile tightened.

"I don't like beautiful work," Abbie replied, "I want something dirty, something that tells a story, something that makes peoples heads turn," she said this with a strained smile still pinned onto her face.

"Deb's work does tell a story, it's just a different kind of story," Eliza cut in quickly as I opened my mouth.

"That's what I think," Deb started, "The stories behind my work are usually fictional, fantasy like almost, I think there's too much art with sadness behind it," she explained lightly.

"That's a nice way of thinking about it. My husband and I prefer to dig deep into human life and the ideologies behind it. Explore things that shouldn't be explored," Abbie retorted sitting back in her seat. I gritted my teeth and forced a smile, exchanging a quick glance with Deb who was rapidly blinking and had a fake smile set into her face like concrete, "you may know my husband actually, he's an art teacher at the school you go to," Abbie then mentioned casually.

"Oh my god! That's so weird, what a small world!" Deb exclaimed probably too over enthusiastically, happy to be out of the previous awkward conversation.

Taken aback I stared at Abbie. This was Mr. Way's wife. Although she seemed relatively uptight, she was so sophisticated and creative. Mr. Way clearly liked the dark and brooding type of women. Everything she said was assertive, occasionally she would direct a question towards me and this time I could barely answer. I curled up on the cracked leather sofa, tucking my sock clad feet underneath myself, trying to stop feeling so awful about Abbie. Her phone rung and her dark purple finger tapped the touch screen to answer.

"Sorry, it was Gerard, I don't know why I married him sometimes he can barely look after himself and leaving him with Jack is never a good idea," she sighed. My senses heightened and I couldn't stop myself from asking who Jack was, "my nephew, my sister's away for a few days and we're looking after him," she replied quickly, filling her empty glass with red wine.

"Good practice for little ones of your own though," Eliza teased, I tensed again. Abbie simply laughed and rolled her eyes. I wanted to grill her about having children. When did they get married? Were they planning for kids? Were they trying for them? I curled up further into my corner, my face dropping as I tried to conceal my jealousy.