were incredibly accomplished.
‘There aren’t anywhere near as many hares there now as there used to be, thanks to the bloody coursers, but Jake does what he can to keep those on his land safe.’
‘I thought coursing was illegal,’ I said, turning back to look at him.
‘It is,’ he said sadly, ‘but it doesn’t stop it happening.’
‘But why would anyone want to kill something so beautiful?’ I said, shaking my head, my tears not quite banished.
I knew there had been an increase in coursing activity in Suffolk too in recent years, but thankfully not too close to the Broad-Meadows estate.
‘Money,’ Finn said bluntly. ‘It’s all about money. And big money too.’
He turned back to the sculptures, squatting down on his haunches to get a closer look and I wished he was always like this. Not talking about cruel blood sports and rural crime obviously, but looking proud of his work and with his inner spark aflame.
But then, perhaps it was his artistic temperament, the soaring highs and deep lows, which enabled him to create such stunning pieces. Maybe he needed the good as well as the bad to balance it all out. He looked then like he did the night we had supper with Luke and Kate. He had come alive when he presented Jasmine with her cat sculpture and, in that moment, he wore exactly the same look as he did studying the hares; his eyes blazing with something close to wonder.
He appeared to all intents and purposes as if he didn’t believe he was looking at something he had made, but rather at a vision someone else had been responsible for. It was most endearing and very sexy.
‘Talking of money,’ I said, dismissing my libido as I walked back over to him, ‘I bet you could charge a fortune for these and there would be no suffering or bloodshed.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said, straightening back up. ‘These hares might be cruelty-free, but my hands have taken a bit of a battering.’
They did look rather knocked about, but at least he had come out of his trance far enough to acknowledge that the work in front of us was his own.
‘But you know what I mean,’ I said, swallowing hard as I tried not to look at his hands. ‘They’d sell in an instant.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘maybe, I dunno.’
I could see that he really had no understanding about how unique his work was. He might have been passionate about the creative process, but he was clueless when it came to considering his sculptures financial value.
‘I’m being serious, Finn,’ I said firmly. ‘You could make a proper living doing this.’
Anyone would be able to see that it wasn’t just a case of welding a few bits together and coming up with something that resembled the animal he had been aiming for. There was real personality, life and movement in what he had created. I guessed his family’s dismissal and belittling of his passion had taken a toll, just like my parents’ opinions about me taking the job at Broad-Meadows and Jackson’s cruel words had dented my confidence for a while. Perhaps this was going to be the moment to share some of that with him after all.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘Luke’s going to be thrilled, along with every single other person who walks through the garden and spots them.’
‘I hope so,’ he sighed.
‘I know so.’ I told him.
‘I wish I had your faith,’ he said, sounding vulnerable.
‘You just need a bit of time,’ I told him, moving a little closer and laying a hand on his arm.
‘Time?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I mean, you’ve barely started, have you?’
‘I’ve been doing this for a while,’ he said, the frown forming again. ‘I did tell you that.’
‘You did,’ I confirmed, ‘but you also told me that you were surrounded by people who were hell-bent on chipping away at your dream, didn’t you? Given the circumstances,’ I carried on, ‘it really must have taken some strength to keep going at all, but you did and now you’re here and Luke has given you the opportunity to work in a completely different atmosphere and surrounded by people who want to champion your achievements. Believe me, it won’t take long for your self-belief to catch up.’
I stopped to draw breath and found he was staring at me.
‘Sorry,’ I said, removing my hand from his sleeve and feeling my cheeks flush.
I hadn’t meant to have such a major soap-box moment.
‘No,’ he said, ‘don’t apologise.’
‘Sorry,’ I said again, without meaning to.
‘And certainly, don’t