Previews Dangerous Echoes by Mai Griffin | Page 17

Mai Griffin
4 – Bertha
In her new village home on the outskirts of Oxford, at the
beginning of April, Bertha Matthews looked from the front
room window, at the profusion of plants in her small
garden. When they were in flower the daffodils here were
close enough to enjoy and pick easily, to carry a breath of
spring inside. She visualised the sweeping slopes around
her old home in spring-time – ablaze with glorious golden
trumpets, but so remote. She recalled a succession of
gardeners, year after year, planting bulbs within the
grounds but none ever came up. Her mother settled
eventually for less formal landscaping with a few trees
and shrubs. The resulting open views, even from the
lower windows, were a pleasing bonus. It should make it
easier for that young artist she had met to find the best
view of the house, unhindered by too much green growth.
A member of the welcoming committee, offering advice
to newcomers, picked up her remark about missing the
house where her family had lived for generations and
asked if she would like to meet Clarinda Hunter who
painted beautiful pictures in oils. Bertha was not
particularly interested in art. She had grown up
surrounded by pictures on every wall in the house; most
were originals and all had gone to auction. The majority
had been gloomy and uninspired, but the idea of having
one specially painted for her, held great appeal.
When she met the girl last week, and saw her
interpretation of an old Welsh cottage, she was s tunned;
it was not just a scene. In it was a depth of vision verging
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