The Stranding Read Online Free Page A

right thing and go up and speak to Mrs Jensen first. She climbed out and trudged up the steps to the front door. The doorbell was loud enough to make her jump, and Mrs Jensen opened the door quickly, as if she had been waiting for her.
    ‘Hello, Mrs Jensen.’
    The old woman cocked her head back and looked down her nose at Callista.
    ‘You’ve taken your time coming,’ she said.
    ‘I’ve had a busy week.’ Callista couldn’t help noticing the rough patches of foundation on the old woman’s forehead and neck.
    ‘You can take what you want,’ Mrs Jensen said. ‘I just want to get rid of them.’
    ‘I’ll have a look then. Thanks.’
    Callista backed away, hoping that’d be the end of it. But Mrs Jensen followed her down into the garden.
    ‘What are you going to use them for,’ the old lady asked, watching Callista going through the pile.
    ‘These ones that aren’t too warped will be good for frames. They come up well with a few layers of paint.’
    Callista started making a separate pile of palings she thought she might take. Some were too cracked and misshapen, but many looked like they’d be okay.
    ‘What sort of things do you paint?’
    Callista stood up and stretched her back. ‘This time of year I focus on pretty basic things for the markets. You know, beach scenes, that sort of stuff. It’s a money-spinner, keeps me going for the rest of the year. That’s what I’ll use this wood for.’
    ‘And the rest of the year?’ Mrs Jensen had her hands folded across her chest and was standing uphill from Callista so she could look down on her.
    Callista frowned up into the wrinkled face. She really was a very ugly old woman, with those heavy features and mouth that sloped down in the corners.
    ‘Well, if the inspiration takes me I get going on other things,’ she said. ‘But it’s not particularly planned. Unfortunately inspiration isn’t something you can buy from a shop and use when you need it.’
    Mrs Jensen sniffed. ‘What about portraits? Do you ever do any of those?’
    ‘I’m generally a landscape person.’ Callista bent over the pile of palings again to continue sorting.
    ‘We need a portrait of our minister,’ Mrs Jensen said. ‘If you could do a good job we’d pay you well for it.’
    Callista stood up again. ‘I’m pretty busy at this time of year. But I’ll give it some thought.’ She didn’t particularly want to paint the minister, but it was best to be polite.
    ‘You should give it a lot of thought. It would pay better than your market art, and you’d be making a significant contribution to the community.’
    Whose community, Callista wanted to ask. But she held her tongue.
    ‘You should consider coming up to the church sometime to have a chat with the minister,’ Mrs Jensen continued.
    ‘About the portrait?’
    ‘No, just to chat generally. He’s a very good man. You should get to know him.’
    Oh yes, it was coming. The call to religion. Callista should have known she couldn’t get away with a visit to Mrs Jensen’s house that easily.
    ‘Bring that Jordi with you. He could do with some help from God.’
    Callista threw a few more palings on her pile. ‘I think Jordi can sort himself out.’
    Mrs Jensen snorted. ‘How long has it been? Seven years? Eight?’
    Callista looked at the hard line of Mrs Jensen’s mouth and thought perhaps her lips tweaked a little. Was she supposed to interpret that as an encouraging smile?
    ‘These things take time,’ she said.
    But Mrs Jensen was persistent. ‘This minister is very kind. I think he could help to show Jordi a path away from his troubles.’
    Callista concentrated on sorting palings. She was feeling hot and cross now. ‘Can we just leave Jordi out of this?’ she said.
    ‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’ Mrs Jensen turned to go, arms still wrapped firmly across her large breasts. ‘Do make sure you think about that portrait. We can talk more about it if you like.’
    ‘Thanks, Mrs Jensen.’ Callista