‘What art school did you go to?’ Grace asked after a few moments.

‘Art school?’ Elle practically squeaked. ‘Oh, I didn’t do art school … I’ve just done a few classes at the craft centre back home. Like I said, I just fiddle around with it.’

‘You’ve never been classically trained?’ Grace asked, lifting one perfectly sculptured eyebrow.

‘No,’ Elle said uncertainly, feeling as though she were back in maths class in high school giving the wrong answer to a question.

The sisters swapped a telling look before returning to flip through the rest of the pages.

‘These are really good,’ Grace said, observing Elle with the kind of intensity a scientist might scrutinise some foreign species they had never come across before.

‘They’re really good,’ Aila added enthusiastically.

‘For someone who has never studied art, you have a remarkable perception and natural eye for capturing the subject matter.’

‘That means she’s really jealous that she had to study art for years and you can pick up a pencil and just do it,’ Aila added with a wink.

‘Oh no, I don’t think you’ve got anything to be jealous about. Seriously, I just love drawing.’

‘My sister is an annoying brat, don’t listen to her. I am actually a bit jealous, though,’ Grace said with a grin.

‘Have you sold any of your sketches?’ Aila asked, heading back to the counter.

‘Sold?’ Elle stammered. ‘Ah, no. I’ve done a couple for gifts for friends and stuff,’ she said hesitantly, picturing the mural she’d painted on Rose’s bedroom wall for Lilly a few years ago, and the brightly coloured butterflies and fairies she’d had framed for her niece’s birthdays. ‘But I don’t actually do anything with my drawings.’

‘Would you be interested in putting a couple of these up in here? We can put them on commission. This piece is the last one we’ve got for sale, and I always have people coming in to look for new art.’

‘Really?’ Elle asked, eyeing the woman doubtfully. This had to be a joke.

‘We can give it a go,’ Grace said with a shrug.

‘Sure … I guess so.’ This was crazy. People were going to be looking at her drawings on display?

‘Brilliant,’ Grace said, turning away to head out the back of the shop with Elle’s sketchpad. ‘Come and pick the ones you’d like to use.’

For the next half-hour the women went through Elle’s sketches, carefully making their selections.

‘I really like this one,’ Aila said, holding up a drawing of two children skipping along a path—Elle had sketched it while sitting in Princes Street Gardens in Edinburgh. Elle had loved the way she’d managed to capture the laughter on their little faces and the carefree joy of kids just being kids.