The final week

At early doors on Thursday, there was quite a crowd.  'How's it going Clive?'  I asked.
'Well, it's done - the invitations have been sent out, the catalogue is printed.  I'm feeling quite calm ...'
'I've got five more paintings that are almost finished - some might be ready in time,' chipped in Johnny.

Nobody said anything ...

On Saturday afternoon, I squeezed in to the Studio through an alley of paintings.  'I got all these back from Stephen Neale's yesterday,' reported a semi-recumbent Johnny,   'When I saw them all together, I realised that I have finished!  I don't need to do any more!  I'm just going to relax now.'

A shadow flitted past the window, something white and voluminous parked outside the door and a bicycle bell rang. 'That'll be Romas with the bubblewrap,' said Johnny.











'Johnny,' said Romas, 'we can start wrapping now!'
'I'm not feeling up to it right now,' replied Johnny.
'That's OK,' encouraged our effervescent Lithuanian, 'you tell me what needs doing and I'll do it!'

I left them to it.

'Any progress wrapping?' I enquired of Johnny on Saturday evening.
'No,' he replied. 'I'm enjoying being finished.  My computer blew up you know.  I think it's alright now - we hoovered it - this is how to deal with modern technology.'

Finished in Havana heaven

It was a peculiar evening.  Johnny doesn't hear well and was mumbling particularly effectively.  'I can't understand what you're saying,' admonished Marta.
'That's because you're Spanish,' replied Don Quixote.
'And I can't hear you either Johnny,' I said in support.
'That's because you weren't listening.'

And then Paul joined in - he can't hear well either.  'Stan,' he said, 'bearing in mind that you're going deaf and I'm going deaf, I haven't heard a word you've said all night.'
'I didn't hear any of it,' said Stan.