“Well, it’s too hot right now, but let’s go sit outside in the shade.” “Hey, Mister, I suppose you’re pining for a walk,” said Sissy, ruffling his ears. Boots, Sissy’s black Labrador, came trotting into the study with his pink tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. “Why not? My climbing roses love ‘Stairway to Heaven.’ Trouble is, I’m always gasping for breath by the time I get to the last verse.” They need constant fussing over if you want to keep them happy. “Being a gardener, you know - it’s like being a nurse,” Sissy told her. But everything I try to grow dies of some kind of horrible blight, or gets eaten by caterpillars.” I just wish I had a green thumb, and I could grow some in the yard. Molly tinkled her brush in a jelly jar full of cloudy water.

“That’s beautiful,” she said, nodding at the rose. Sissy came back with a frosty glass of Zinfandel and set it down on the windowsill. It flashed and sparkled and jingled as she painted. She was also wearing a spectacular antique necklace, more like a charm bracelet than a necklace, hung with bells and mascots and stars set with semiprecious stones. She wore silver rings on every finger, including her thumb, and her fingernails were polished in metallic blue. Molly was sitting next to the open window, so that a warm breeze blew in from the yard and the sunshine fell across the gardening book that she was using for reference.Īn oval mirror stood on the opposite side of her desk, and Molly’s painting was reflected in it, as was her hand, busily washing in the petals with a fine sable brush.

Sissy came into her studio and stood watching her for a few minutes. Molly was painting a scarlet rose with a yellow ladybug crawling up its stem.

Death Trance by Graham Masterton