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DesiderataChapter 7 free porn video
Gerry drove morosely away. He had told her she was too special to him to let her go. He had also told her that she did not have to become involved but she had seen through that straight away. She was still clearly not going to tell him what her problem was. What was he to do next? A further direct approach in the near future was clearly out of the question. It would upset her too much. He wondered whether her parents might be able to help. He somehow doubted it. Isobel had inferred that she was distant from them. Was that part of her problem? He decided he would ring Henry Honey. He might know something.
That same morning Arthur and Larry went into Misborough to get their hair cut. There was an Italian barber, or hairdresser as he preferred to call himself, to whom Arthur had been going for some time. He knew exactly what a seven year-old needed and Larry agreed.
They emerged without Arthur having anything definite planned other than to pick up some groceries. They bumped into Dorothy Maynard.
"Oops!" exclaimed Arthur. "I'm so sorry. Not looking where I was going. Dorothy! How nice to see you!"
"Hello, Arthur, and you, Larry!"
"Hello, Miss Maynard."
"Weekly shop?" asked Arthur.
"Yes. Nearly over I just need to get some coffee and there's only one place that does really decent stuff."
Arthur smiled. "I know it well. Can we come with you and have a cup while we're there. Larry will probably have something totally different."
Dorothy smiled delightedly. "That's a lovely idea."
That was a success. Arthur discovered that Dorothy was an amateur painter, concentrating on watercolours. Larry was wildly excited.
"Granny's brilliant," he said, "and helps me a lot. Can you come and see some of my paintings?"
"I'd love to, Larry, but I'll have to wait until your father invites me."
"Daddy?"
"Slow down, Larry. Miss Maynard's a busy lady. Do you mean that, Dorothy?"
"Definitely!"
"This afternoon?"
"Why not? I ought to nip home and put things in the fridge and freezer but then I'm free."
There was a slight pause before Arthur asked, "Why don't you go home and put things away? We'll follow and then lead you home and you can see what Larry's done, not to mention my mother. You might even show us what you've done."
Dorothy's shyness returned. "Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly.
"Ye-es," chimed in Larry before Arthur could reply. The latter smiled questioningly.
"OK, Larry. You're on."
"In that case," said Arthur, "why don't we take your shopping home, have lunch at the Trout and then go on to our place for viewings of the young maestro's works?"
"Are you sure?"
"Very."
"In that case, yes, and thank you, Arthur."
Arthur smiled deprecatingly. "What I do for my son."
Dorothy looked at him slightly longer than was necessary. "Of course," she said.
Arthur and Larry followed Dorothy home. Her house was on an estate. There was nothing special about it, being a replica of all the other houses, except for the paintings. They were not all hers by any means. She had prints of Constable, Turner and other more modern artists. Arthur was very impressed with hers. One in particular stood out as far as he was concerned. It was of three grouped tumuli on the Wiltshire Downs. There was a clump (a religious bunch of trees also dating from the Stone or possibly Bronze Age) to the right. She had caught the cloud shadows.
"That, Dorothy, is very, very special. Brilliant, in fact. Have you ever shown it?"
She shook her head shyly.
"You're as bad as my mother. She's damn good but that really is something."
"Thanks, Arthur."
"You painted it in spring," said Larry.
"Yes, I did. How did you guess?"
"The colour of the leaves on the trees. They're beech trees and they only have that colour when they first come out."
Dorothy marvelled but said no more than, "Spot on. Well done you."
There was another which Arthur was drawn to. It was small but showed a small stream in woodland. There were no dramatic waterfalls but it was a bustling, busy stream and she had captured its vivacity.
"That's very good too, Dorothy," he said. "You're very talented. Where is it?"
"It isn't. I did a sketch in the Lake District and then saw another stream in the Peak District. I sort of put them together."
"Brilliant!"
"How do you get the water to move?" asked Larry.
"I don't know," answered Dorothy nonplussed.
"I like this one better than the beech trees."
Dorothy smiled at him. "Thank you, Larry."
Larry continued to stare at the painting as Dorothy put away her shopping. Unlike his usual self he was totally silent all the way to the Trout.
Lunch was a success. Arthur and Dorothy were able to talk together and get to know each other better. With Larry present no mention was made of the minx.
As soon as they got home Larry seized Dorothy's hand.
"Come and see my paintings," he said.
As Isobel had been, Dorothy was impressed and particularly with the view from the window. "Aha!" she said. "No wonder you know about trees. Did you do that all on your own?"
"No. Granny helped me a bit. Come and see her painting that Daddy's got downstairs."
"Golly," said Dorothy reverently and to Arthur, "you can see where Larry got his talent from. I'd love to see some more of her work."
"We might manage that one weekend. She only lives just over an hour away and Dad would be tickled pink to act as host to a pretty young woman."
Dorothy looked embarrassed and Arthur grinned unrepentantly. "Truth," he said.
She left shortly afterwards. "I'd like to see you again," said Arthur.
"So would I," she smiled back. "It's the flattery."
They both laughed.
The following Monday Gerry rang Arthur Honey.
"Forgive me for ringing during working hours on a personal matter," he said.
"Don't worry one bit. Would I be right in thinking it's about one of my junior partners?"
"Yes. When we finished the Corsellis case she said goodbye but implied that we should not see each other again. I called on her on Saturday and was clearly not welcome. She repeated that she did not want to get involved. Do you know whether she got into in a relationship that went bad?"
"Not that I'm aware of. She doesn't tell me anything about her private life and I don't wish to intrude."
Gert
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