‘I only buy linen canvas and I’ve stapled one to a board and prepared it for you with two coats of Gesso. It primes the surface ready to take the paint. Once it’s finished, I can make up the wooden framing and stretch it for you, if you prefer. Or you could simply store it rolled so it’s easier to transport.’

Nico lifts the large board with ease, but the width is the span of both of his arms almost fully extended.

‘It’s enormous!’ I gasp as he lifts it onto the bottom track, which is only a couple of inches off the floor. He shows me how to secure it with a special clip either side.

‘I’m going to suggest you work with acrylic paint, simply because it dries much quicker.’

He stands back, joining me to gaze at my very own blank canvas.

‘Where will I start? What do I paint?’ I feel almost overcome with a mixture of fear and excitement.

‘Well, begin by sketching out a few ideas.’ He walks over to a large cupboard with floor-to-ceiling doors and effortlessly slides one across. Lifting out a flip chart on a stand, Nico carries it across. ‘Of course, you might prefer to paint something from a photograph or try a still life. I could set you up a small table. The painting in your room is a view out over the forest from the courtyard.’

You can do this, Fern, that little voice inside my head reassures me.

‘Great. It might take me a while before I can actually pick up a brush, though. I don’t want to waste a perfectly good canvas.’

Nico throws back his head and laughs. ‘You are surrounded by stacks of canvases that will probably never go anywhere. Never destined to grace a wall but only to lean against one. And then there are those which seem to soar from the very first brushstroke. Here, grab this.’ He bends down to pick up a folded cloth draped over one of the rails. ‘If you don’t want me to see your work until it’s finished, then simply cover it with this muslin. I won’t cheat, I promise. Now, let me show you the one I cannot finish at the moment because my muse has temporarily deserted me, it seems.’

That instantly transports me back to the other night. Nico was muttering something about that, but I can’t remember his exact words. Muse, yes, he mentioned that and – oh, he called me an angel.