It has been a week of making and enhancing connections between people. From first quarter to first quarter this theme has streamed, underpinning all activity. 

It is no surprise that Family has featured strongly. As our primary relationship- learning environment it is naturally the field where we experience both heart rending challenge and profound, joyous peace. Yet new experience is pushing towards a wider definition than "family" usually suggests.

Now I see the new development, floating buoyant as a mangrove seed with root and shoot already visible. 

We are being gently led into the Dance. 

Life is drawing us all into closer, more enriching engagement with each other.

It is time to move rhythmically with those around us and to let go of those divisive fears and boundaries- public/private, related/unrelated, and the rest.

Step into the circle now. Your unique contribution is a vital part of this Great Design– and only you can give it.

Drawing from Life continues:

Rhona stayed with Louise for most of the afternoon. After walking back to Grace’s she let herself in, had a shower and changed. Following a well established routine from previous visits, she went down to the kitchen. A casserole was reheating. A local Riesling stood chilling in the fridge. She took that and charged two glasses, taking them on a tray to the lounge.

Grace looked up defensively as she entered. “Do you know I haven’t managed a jot of work today Rhona?”

“Well you had your mind on other things. Here.” Rhona passed her a glass with a half smile. “Good health” 

Grace inclined her head in acknowledgement. After a small silence she said “Rhona…”

“Forget it Grace.” The tone was firm but kind. “Let’s just enjoy the weekend.”

Grace was arranged on her favourite Regency style sofa. Rhona curled herself into the huge leather wing chair across from the sofa, near the fire. A second wing chair faced her from the opposite side of the fire place.

The space above the kauri mantel piece had been home to one of Grace’s own works on the last occasion Rhona visited. A new acquisition was hanging there now. She sat admiring it a moment before commenting that it was a superb addition to the room. Grace revealed she had acquired it through Philip Kerby, who had spotted it with Messums and arranged the purchase. “I had asked him to keep an eye out for me. Roger and I visited Devon a couple of times when we lived in London so the subject appealed. I have found myself thinking of passed times more often lately.”

“Did he organise the sale next door as well?” Rhona smiled as she said it and kept her voice as light as possible.

Grace frowned. “I am so sorry, I didn’t realise you knew him.”

“Forget it.”, Rhona waved it away. “As you say, it’s a small town – but did he?”

“Well yes in a way.”

“I see. So Bill has been here since last November then?”

“Early December as I recall. He did a lot of building work himself. I honestly assumed he was on a shoe string, but he has a place in town he tells me.” She frowned again “Put that eyebrow away. He seems to live very quietly if that’s what you want to know.”

Rhona smiled and unfurled herself from the chair. “I’m not sure what I want to know. Shall we eat in here?”

Rhona slept until late the next morning and lay reading until after eleven. She told herself she was resting, not avoiding anything. When she emerged she found Grace was entertaining Bill by the fire in the lounge. His long ranging form was comfortably disposed in the deep chair which she had occupied the preceding evening. His hair was loose, tucked behind one ear as he leaned a little forward, telling Grace an amusing tale.

Rhona hesitated in the doorway. When he looked up at her- in just the old way- it was only strength of will that kept her from going to him. He knew it too. She could see it in the way his eyes swept over her figure and back to her face.

Grace saved the situation. “Ah Rhona, you are just in time. Bill was telling me his badminton class was sadly depleted yesterday. All the males decided to abandon their coaching in favour of watching the netball.”

Rhona leaned on the back of the sofa. He shot her a look that held a humorous note of challenge in it. “I’m a real community junkie these days, aren’t I Grace?”

Grace was amused. “A veritable village lad. One of Casey’s nephews managed to talk him into reviving the club you see Rhona. You’ve organised some crafts guild too haven’t you Bill?”

He had been watching Rhona closely. Now both ladies' eyes were on him again he quickly turned his attention back to Grace. “Well, the term Guild is a little anachronistic”, he said with pretended humility on his face. “Probably Co-operative would be a better term.”

Rhona smiled. She couldn’t imagine Bill’s management style being any more cooperative than director.  She excused herself and stood in the kitchen listening to the rise and fall of voices and intermittent laughter coming from the lounge. 

It was tasteless to make comparisons but it occurred to her that Philip had once looked at her in the proprietary way she had just seen. They had been at a pre-auction viewing and she had her back to him. It was a pure fluke that she had turned to see him standing there- looking. She had known at the time what it meant. She also knew that for Philip the thought and the action were two different things.

Rhona found she was regarding herself critically in the darkened kitchen window.  The fingers on the wine glass were buffed smooth, tipped by French-polished nails. Chic wool pants hugged to her figure, which was further emphasised by a fitted cashmere jersey. Her shoulder length curls were held away from her face with a silk scarf tied as a band. Correcting her posture, she lifted her glass of water in a private toast, before returning to the lounge.

She was spared a long ordeal. Grace considerately kept to light amusing topics. All her years of experience in the art of conversation meant there were no awkward silences or comments of an unduly personal nature. Bill left ten minutes later. He was not mentioned over lunch.

Rhona said her goodbyes to Grace shortly afterward. Casey drove her up to the camp where she helped out until four in the afternoon, when she was ready with her party of girls for the return trip to the wharf.

On the way she asked Casey about the badminton. He described Bill’s voluntary contribution in fulsome terms. Some masochistic tendency demanded she ask him about the crafts cooperative too. As he put it “Bill’s already linked up with some of the big winery and tourist operators here. That’ll pull them in from the mainland. Art and booze! It’s a brilliant plan.”

It crossed her mind that Philip would be interested in that proposal, until she realised that he had probably planted the seed for it in the first place. The art cooperative was just one of several issues arising from her trip that she wished she could discuss with Mr Kerby- at his earliest convenience.