Jack sat down next to her and heard another cough. Is everybody coming down with a cold today? He turned his head and this time it was his room attendant, Roy.

“Sir, would you like me to bring something to drink?” Roy, when he was told his charge was back in the premises, would wait by the side door of the preparation room, where the meals were prepared before being taken to the dining room. He saw the young lady standing and made sure he made himself useful.

“Oh, can you bring us some of that lemonade I like?” Jack asked.

“The calamansi, Sir?” Roy sought to clarify.

“Yes, that’s it.” Jack turned to Augusta. “Is that ok with you or would you like something else to drink.”

“That’s fine thank you. “ Augusta replied.

What seemed like beautiful, ladylike manners, was actually Augusta’s way of hiding her anxiety and profound shyness. Part of her knew she shouldn’t be sitting here with Jack but another part of her surged and wanted to run into his arms, stare into his eyes and drown. You are such a stupid girl, what are you doing here?

The two of them sat in silence waiting for the calamansi to arrive. Calamansi looks like a lime with green skin, but tiny. But the inside flesh looked like oranges, it would be the child of a lime and an orange and had a very distinct citrus taste all its own.

When Roy brought the calamansi juice, cut with ice, water and honey, they each took a sip and a deep breath. Jack dismissed Roy and settled in to figure out how to speak to Augusta. But before he could say a word, she spoke first.

“There is your painting. “ She pointed to the bamboo canister that served as a canvas protector. “You can see if now. “ Augusta suggested.

“Really? You’re already finished.” Jack was astonished.

“Not really, but it’s there to see.”

Jack reached for the canister and took out the painting. Unfurled it was just a bit bigger than he expected. But although the bay had been sketched out, only the sky had been colored it, it was still unfinished.

“You paint out on that hut?” Jack asked her.

“Yes, but now I don’t need to. I can finish anywhere.” She said.

Can you finish it right here? So I can watch your hands moving over the canvas?

“Ah.” Was all Jack really said. He wasn’t a lothario, but he knew he could be when the whim hit him, but he didn’t want to be with Augusta, something about her made him think of a wild animal, just barely peeking into his life and he was afraid to do or say the wrong thing to scare her away.

He started asking her about what kind of brushes did she use, did she mix her own paints, did she need more paint. Anything that was connected with her painting was a safe topic and it made Augusta beam and relax. Painting was something she was confident and comfortable with and she spoke without hesitation.

Jack knew nothing about painting, he was more interested in just listening to her voice. Her

English was perfect, but when he complimented her on it, she blushed and closed up. So he kept asking about painting, colors how she processes a picture in her mind and puts it on canvas.

Before he knew it, the sun had taken that strange orange 4pm glow of late afternoon. He knew she would bolt before he knew it, so he asked the one question that had been bothering him all night.

“Augusta, did I make you cry?” He asked gently, almost in a whisper.

She turned her head and squinted at the sea. “Yes.”

to be continued....