Eyes and smiles
It was 1998. My new flat had a big blank wall and I had a vague notion of wanting to hang a painting in the void. Something original, not Athena. So I opened the door of the new art shop in Peterborough and turned left – strange how you nearly always turn left when you step into a shop. I found myself staring at some pottery, acutely aware that I knew absolutely nothing about art, that I really couldn’t afford any of the prices written on the tags, and that a member of staff was approaching.
Think, you Philistine! Think!
I can’t remember what I said, but I do remember turning around and being met by a pair of sparkling eyes and the most captivating smile.
Charlotte.
She showed me around the gallery and asked me what I liked. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know oil from resin. She had a genuine interest in exciting people’s interest in art.
I bumped into her a few times over the next year or so. I would spot her in H&M or in a bar in town. We went to the Millennium Dome together. At the time the dullest people moaned about this ‘folly’; but I remember that Charlotte saw only the exhibitors’ creativity and originality.
Every time we met she made me smile. Chazzer, as I called her then – largely to wind her up; she’s the least likely Chazzer – was simply the most optimistic person I had ever met. She was impulsive and irrepressible. She would test and question your limits. In fact, if you’re lucky enough to be in her company, you are very likely to do something outside your comfort zone. Anything is possible. And there is normally no point in persuading her otherwise…
Actually, some things were not possible. She tried to teach me how to draw. I dug out an old sketchbook the other day and I’m afraid the results aren’t great. I certainly wouldn’t want to sit on the chair I scrawled and my hand looks like Yoda’s. Sorry, Teach.
I haven’t seen her for many years; she moved away from Potatoborough. I missed her. But we have exchanged the odd Christmas card and text, just to check that everything’s okay. She never forgets you. I remember that if ever I was fed up, we’d talk, tease, laugh. Those eyes would sparkle. She made me feel better. There for you when you need her.
I never did buy any paintings from the shop. Instead, I left having made the most wonderful friend. Someone very special in my life.