that’s the infamous Jade Green,’ he whispered.
‘Not exactly the scarlet woman of melodrama is she,’ Bree replied.
‘You’d pass her on the street without a second glance, just someone’s old granny.’
They wandered around the gallery, examining the works as they went. Bree studied Jade Green closely, memorising her features to ensure she would not pass their target the street without recognising her immediately.
Bree was impressed with the quality of the work on display. The carvings were excellent. There were animals and figures of people caught in natural poses each polished to a high gloss. Realistic actions and the way the wood grain was used seemed to bring the figures to life.
The paintings were also of a high quality. Portraits and landscapes were executed in exacting detail. Light suffused the works, animating them and raising them above the hackneyed and trite works usually offered in out of the way galleries. Bree saw several that she would gladly have hung on her apartment’s walls.
The couple with Jade Green agreed on the purchase of the carving of a small dog. Jade Green wrapped it in tissue, before placing it in a bag displaying the name Toby Brown Gallery and processing their credit card.
The sale completed, Jade Green conducted the purchasers to the door and wished them well before turning to the second couple who were still trying to make up their minds.
They waved her away, saying that they were still looking.
Dismissed, Jade Green turned her attention to the third couple present.
She walked towards them with a smile on her face and a steady gait. ‘For an old lady she moves well. No sign of arthritis,’ thought Bree.
‘May I help you?’ asked Mrs Green.
Bree turned to Sam and winked. Thinking as she went, she smiled at Jade Green and presented the elderly lady with her one and only business card for the Save the Country Fund.
‘Hi,’ said Bree. ‘My name is Bree Lake and this is my friend Sam Tait. We’re from the Save the Country Fund and we’re looking for a suitable mascot or logo to represent our organisation.’
‘What country are you saving? I hope you’re not anti-development. We have a lot of subdivisions going on around here and we don’t want any protesters making trouble, especially for my friend Toby.’
‘Oh no,’ exclaimed Sam, taking his lead from Bree. ‘Our organisation is designed to encourage sustainable development. We’re all for building houses as long as there are plenty of trees left for nature’s creatures. We like to encourage the wide range of bio-diversity that can be created in everyone’s back yard.’
Mrs Green looked at the two young people before her. Their body language yelled ‘bullshit’, but they seemed healthy enough, in a sort of rugged way, to be genuine outdoors types. They were not unlike her friends, Lana and Brian, who loved to spend their spare time backpacking and camping in the wilderness.
‘What exactly are you looking for?’
‘We don’t know exactly. Perhaps if you could show us some of your works, we may get an idea,’ said Bree.
Mrs Green showed them around the gallery, pointing out various works that could conceivably fit their requirements.
As they were doing so, Sam noticed a small car enter the parking lot. What caught his attention was that instead of parking in the lot in front of the gallery it drove to the rear of the building. ‘Obviously not a client,’ he thought. A few minutes later he heard voices coming from the room behind the gallery.
‘I can’t see anything here that reflects what our organisation is all about. Perhaps if we spoke directly to the artist, we may get some inspiration.’
‘Of course. Toby is in his workshop. Come this way.’
She led them through to the rear of the gallery, past shelves stacked with blocks of drying timber awaiting their time to be transformed. Bree noted a small area, blocked off with screens, behind which the foot of a double bed could just be seen.
In the middle of the large workroom was a workbench where gauges and chisels, the tools of trade for a woodworker, were neatly arranged.
Seated at the bench and working at a block of oak, was a young man of impressive size. The muscles in his back and arms stood out as he hunched over his work, guiding the gouge over the wood and raising a curling shaving from the model of a horse he was creating.
As they moved towards him, the rear door opened and a tall, strikingly beautiful woman entered, with a painting under each arm. She walked to where another two paintings were propped against a cupboard and added these latest two to the stack.
‘Oh good, you’re both here,’ said Mrs Green.
As Toby Brown looked up from his work the breath caught at the back of Bree’s throat. He was gorgeous!
Sam didn’t notice. He was more interested in the blonde with the paintings. Jade Green introduced them.
‘This is Toby Brown, who created all the figurines outside, and this is Lana Reynolds who painted all the wonderful pictures. Perhaps, together, they may be able to come up with something for you.’
She passed Bree’s card to Toby.
‘These people are from the Save the Country Fund. They’re looking for a suitable logo for the fund.’
‘What country are you saving?’ asked Lana.
Bree could see this was going to be the standard question whenever the name of the fund was mentioned. She wished the powers that be had picked a more specific name. It was going to become very frustrating.
Sam had moved off to one side, taking more photos, leaving her to answer all the questions.
‘As I explained to your assistant here, we seek to encourage the eco-sustainability of the urban landscape.’
‘Is that what you said before?’ asked Mrs Green.
‘It’s a general terminology only,’ replied Bree, trying desperately to remember just what she had said.
‘So what you’re after is something that reflects nature, as a back yard,’ offered Lana.
‘That’s it exactly,’ said Sam, even though he had no idea.
Lana and Toby looked at one another and tried to decide if these people were serious. They certainly didn’t seem to know what they wanted.
‘Maybe we should start with the wood,’ suggested Toby.
‘What sort do you want?’
‘What sort of wood do you have?’ asked Sam.
Toby looked at Mrs Green with a bemused expression. ‘I’ve got cherry, pine, larch, fir, yew, sycamore, alder, maple, walnut, cedar, oak …
‘Oak!’ interrupted Bree. ‘Oak. Back yards have oak trees.’
Toby said: ‘OK. Oak it is. I have a nice big cross-section back here. I’ll just get it out,’
Lana said: ‘What sort of design do you want Toby to etch on to it?’
‘Perhaps you could suggest something,’ said Sam.
‘Well it’s a back yard, so what’s in a back yard?’
‘Kids,’ offered Sam.
‘Trees of course,’ said Mrs Green.
‘Pets,’ suggested Sam again.
Lana held up her hand. ‘Just a minute.’ She moved off to the gallery