Carillon Magazine

Tall Tales in a Nutshell - Blues

Pam Redmond (Taunton)

Picasso was surprised when the girl came into his studio. He was reading and looked up as the

door opened.

        "Who are you?" he asked as she set down the coffee.

       "Marie, monsieur."

       "And where is Claudette?"

        "She had an emergency at home, monsieur.  She said she told you."

       "Perhaps she did, I can't be bothered with all these domestic arrangements." He waved a hand at Marie.    

        "Pour the coffee then."

      He watched her. "Attractive girl, delicate hands," he thought.

      She stirred the coffee and with a half curtsey asked, "Is that all, monsieur?"

      "No. Wait.  Stand by the window."

      She hesitated.

      "Come on, girl, by the light."

      Marie moved to the window.

       "You look as stiff as a military moustache," said Picasso.

      She smiled.

      "That's better. Relax now. Have you ever modelled?"

     "No, monsieur."

  "OK. Stay like that. Now, paper, brushes, paint." He stepped backwards still looking at Marie then started rummaging in the shelves. "I ask Claudette to clean up my studio and she's moved the paint," he murmured. He walked around looking in drawers and under covers.

     "There's no paint anywhere." He sounded surprised. "No paint!" He was shouting now. "You turn up like an inspiration and there's no paint! You understand?"

     Marie looked at him calmly. "I could fetch some, monsieur."

    "Yes, fetch some, some of every colour. The shop on the corner. You know it?" He dragged a bundle of notes from his pocket. "Take these. Quickly. The light's going."

     "I'll be as quick as I can, monsieur." Marie took the notes and ran.

    Picasso chose brushes and paper, swallowed the coffee in a gulp and looked at the sky. Soon he heard Marie open the front door.

Issue 12