This chapter is dedicated to Nessdragon23 who is my first follower, favouriter and reviewer

Chapter 2

Harold felt more relaxed during the second half of the lesson and sat and watched the others busy at their easels. It was interesting to see how different they all were in their methods with some being flamboyant while others frowned as they worked.

"OK people." Said François. "That's enough for tonight. You can get dressed now Harold, I'm sure your friends will wait for you." Harold went into the store room and changed into his clothes. He put the armour back on the rack along with the tunic but didn't know where the sword and helmet were from so laid them on a box. When he left the store room he was pleased to see the others were waiting for him.

"You were amazing Harry." Said Yvonne. "I have never known how people can be so still for such a long time."

"I didn't really think about it." He admitted. "I just did it."

"Well we are all very grateful Harry." Said Pete. "As François said, much better than fruit." They all laughed at this.

"Could I see a couple of your pictures?" Harry asked. "I would love to see how you saw me." Jan immediately got hers out, his head and torso done in charcoal. There was little detail to his face but he could tell it was him.

"Am I really that muscular?"

"Oh yes." Said Louise with a giggle that caused him to redden.

"Tell me what you think of mine." Roger put his canvas on the chair. It was larger than Jan's and he had used oils to represent Harold as Alexander standing on a rocky outcrop and gazing into the distance.

"As you can see." Said Yvonne. "Roger is on the flamboyant side." Harold looked at the details of the picture, Roger had used browns and reds and greys to make a very dramatic picture.

"I like it, I like it very much."

Just as they were preparing to leave François came over to Harold and handed him a pound note. Harold looked at it and then at François.

"It's your fee, all life models get fifty pence an hour."

"But I'm not a model." He protested.

"You were tonight Harry." This was Ben. "You got us all out of a right fix and we are very thankful."

"Oh well, in that case thank you very much. But next time I come I want to paint." Yvonne linked his arm as they left the room.

"Don't worry Harry, we will make sure you paint."

Yvonne and Roger made their excuses and left the others to the pub opposite the art school. They assembled around a table in the lounge and Stuart and Ben went to get the drinks while the others talked about the evening.

"Will I be able to see the rest of the painting of me?" Asked Harold. "I would like to see how everyone sees me. I'm usually invisible see, people don't notice a rag and bone man unless they've got something to get rid of. I don't think anyone has really looked at me before, not properly, and that felt very strange, but I really would like to see what you all saw." The others exchanged glances, this was the first time Harold had really opened up about himself, he usually kept his conversation to general topics.

"You can see mine with pleasure." Said Louise. "I would love your opinion of it. Unlike the rest of them I actually like still lifes, I'm not all that good with people, but I had a good go and I hope you like it."

"Oh I'm sure I will."

After a couple of drinks he said his goodbyes and left to catch the bus back to Shepherds Bush. The nearer to home he got he felt as though he was moving from light to dark, from the bright time he had with his friends to the dismal normality of his home life.

I have to get out, I can't live like this. I can't let it drag me down, I can't let him drag me down.

He got off the bus and walked around the corner to the yard. His feet moved slower and slower as he made his way through the scrap to the door of the house where he had been born and was now beginning to hate. With a sigh he opened the door and entered the little hallway. He was surprised to see the living room in darkness, Albert usually waited up to have a go at him for staying out so long and leaving an old man all alone. He put the light on to see if the old man had fallen asleep in his chair by the fire but it was empty. He reckoned this was the first time that had ever happened, then wondered if his father had gone to bed early because he was ill.

"No." He said firmly. "You are not going to feel guilty about having a life." He climbed the stairs to see Albert's bedroom door was closed. Normally he would have gone in to see if everything was alright but tonight he stopped himself, he was not going to be manipulated any longer. He went into the bathroom then into his bedroom and closed the door.