Hannah's Opening

It promised to be a glittering event. The gallery was showing a selection of new works by local artists and most of Ballarat seemed to have turned up. Even a smattering of dealers from a few Melbourne galleries were circulating. All the good and gracious were arriving and from her vantage point she scanned the growing crowd with fierce attention. After all, this night could determine her future and she had a vested interest in its outcomes.

Glancing across Hannah considered the group of artists huddled together desperately close by, each clutching a glass of red wine. There was Felicity! She liked Fee, although whatever had possessed the woman to wear that cartwheel of a feathered hat tonight was beyond her. If she wasn't careful Fee was going to put out someone's eye with one of those quills. As if hearing her thoughts, Fee looked at her and smiled. 'Hey girlfriend,' Fee said to her, 'don't worry, it will all work out for you.'

She continued to smile back at Fee, hoping to herself that Fee was right.

And now here was Louise Weller, dear little plump dumpling that she was, pontificating once again to all who would listen about the beauty of line, tone and subtle hue. She could tell that Louise was nervous, Louise always rambled on when the butterflies hit. Louise was her best friend, but she hoped she would shut up before she said something foolish, as she often did. Louise was just hitting mid-stride in her verbal art thesis when a strange man strolled up and joined the group. She could see Louise give a bit of a gulp and wind down to a stuttering stop in her rant.

Hannah smiled at him and he smiled back at her. He was a little on the short side, strong jaw, nose a bit too large for his face, and an unfortunate squint in his left eye. One eye lustfully looked at her while the other searched the distance over her shoulder. If it wasn't for that lopsided blue eye he would be almost good looking. She gave an inward shudder. That was NOT a look she would want to see peering askew at her every morning, though perhaps she could learn to ignore it.

Now Fee was chatting with the man, finding out his thoughts on the show, the art. Louise asked what he did for living, oh my gawd, he was a lawyer. How would anyone trust lawyer who had such a crooked gaze? What? What that he's saying? He's a human rights lawyer? Working pro-bono for the local land rights movement. A truly genuine, nice man concerned for his fellow beings. She felt ashamed of herself. Honestly, when would she ever learn not to judge a book by its cover? After all, she wasn't one to talk, people were always judging her on her looks.

Feeling a scorching glance, Hannah saw Patrick strolling over to join the conversation. Patrick Tyneman, the big man in town. She had met him before through Louise. Big in ways more than one. Large of girth, loud of mouth, with a big wallet and cash to splash, she hoped he would prove to be an art lover. But listening to his booming voice and the comments he was making about the works on show made her heart sink. 'I like a tree to look like a tree, my grandson could paint better than some of these. And I want my women clothed! This is a disgraceful display!' he ranted. Not a fan of the modern it seemed.

'Matthew!' bellowed Patrick. Across the gallery floor a smartly dressed man with a cane limped over. He was accompanied by a rather gorgeous redhead who looked at her with a piercing gaze.

'Is there a problem?' asked Matthew placidly.

Patrick waved a hand at the paintings on the walls. 'You can't tell me that these don't breach the censorship act! Some of these are arguably obscene and indecent! You're the police, why don't you do something about all this smut?'

'Hmmm,' complained Matthew. 'You do realise I am off duty Patrick, don't you?'

'Good morals should never be off duty!' proclaimed Patrick self-righteously.

'Oh, really Patrick! You can be so Puritanical. A few nude paintings in Ballarat and the world is coming to an end?' Commented a tall blond, blue eyed man who had joined them. Holding his arm was a lovely chestnut brunette in her early 40's. Hannah watched the new couple with interest. They were obviously besotted with each other. And that green silk dress the woman was wearing was stunning.

'What would you know about common decency, Blake?' Blustered Patrick.

'Patrick!' the woman in the green silk dress admonished in a shocked voice.

'Sorry, Jean, I'm sorry,' said Patrick in a quieter, chagrined voice. 'But you must realise that not everyone in Ballarat has the same libertine view on life that your husband has.'

The tall blond man, Doctor Lucien Blake, chuckled at Patrick, but before Blake could respond, the not-quite-good-looking lawyer stuck his hand out to Patrick and spoke;

'Tim Glazinor, Barrister,' he declared. Patrick too the proffered hand.

'I'm afraid I disagree with you, Sir.' Tim said as he shook Patrick's hand. 'From my viewpoint as a lawyer I can see nothing here that is either obscene or offensive. In fact, the artist has taken great care to obscure the genitalia in each work. Apart from a bare nipple or two the works are positively chaste!'

Patrick glowered. 'Well, they are not something I would want my wife or a daughter to see!'

As if they don't see that and more in the mirror every day, Hannah thought to herself with scorn. It was with relief that she noticed Jake Turner, the Gallery curator, approach. Known as JT to his friends she had liked Turner from the first time they had met. He always treated her with respect and he had an unerring nose for a buyer. Not to mention an uncanny ability to smooth the ruffled feathers of a client's sensibilities.

JT glided up to the group and greeted them all. He glanced at her and winked, then turned to Patrick. Putting an arm around Patrick's shoulder he carefully steered him away with the comment, 'Patrick! Come, this isn't your taste. But in Gallery 4, I have a selection of Clive's watercolour landscapes you will love. Not ready for exhibition yet, but I am sure Clive won't mind if I give you a little sneak preview…' and chatting amiably with Patrick, JT moved him away from controversy.

The rest of the evening passed enjoyably and without further incident . Conversations swirled between the friends and artists. Paintings were purchased, wine was drunk, the cheese platter cleared. She was getting tired as the crowd began to thin. It would all be over soon, she thought sadly, reflecting forlornly on her lonely fate. Across the room, Matthew and his lady, Doctor and Jean Blake were in conversation. Every so often Jean would look her way, considering.

She sighed silently to herself again, hardly noticing when Jean turned to speak with JT. JT lifted his eyes to her and grinned. Suddenly hope flared in her bare chest as Jean and JT walked over to her. With joy in her heart she watched JT plant a discreet black dot on her frame. He reached up and stroked her frim black moulding lovingly,

'Well, lucky girl,' said JT softly to her, 'seems this lady here fancies taking you home for her husband!'

'Jean?' Blake came up behind them both.

Jean turned to Lucien and smiled up at him. 'Happy Birthday, darling. I saw how much you liked her, and so I bought her for you for your birthday.'

A delighted grin broke out over Lucien's face. 'Really, Jean? You bought me a Louise Weller? You bought me a nude!'

'Her name is Hannah,' said Jean with a demure smile. 'and yes, I bought you a nude. But I think we will have to hang her in the bedroom, she may be a bit too shocking for the patients to see.'

Lucien reached for Jean and embraced her, kissing her with love and joy. JT watched with a pleased expression on his face. He enjoyed matching paintings with owners and knew Hannah had found her home.

And Hannah? Hannah never stopped smiling down at the two lovers from her spot on the bedroom wall.

….

Wild