When Moses has managed to fit all of his beloved books into the trunks and closed the lids, he called for Noah to come and fit them under his bed. Noah was so pleased that he had done it that he didn’t feel at all displaced by being called upon to move the trunks. He conscientiously fitted them under his bed, following Moses’ directions about the order he wanted them in. Mrs Bishop stood and watched nearby, every now and then interjecting with some comment. “Ooh – aren’t you strong, Noah! Being able to move those heavy trunks all by yourself! I do like a man with muscles.” Noah largely ignored these comments as he arranged the trunks and then stood back and clapped his hands together.
“There now – you have just received a suitable storage area in your bedroom, Moses. Please use it and make sure that the sitting room doesn’t revert back to its previous state of disorder.”
“I shall. And what is this I hear about a mural?” Moses asked – as ever, suspicious of change.
“Come with me and I will show you. I’m sure I can benefit from your visionary skills.”
They both walked into the sitting room and Mrs Bishop followed, uninvited. All assembled in front of the east wall, which had a beautiful, Victorian, Chesterfield sofa pushed against it. “Now – I was thinking either a forest, or some sort of underwater scene. Thoughts?” Moses was silent for a good few minutes, and then he appeared to have a minor argument with himself in silence. After this, he spoke out.
“Blue.”
“So…. underwater?” Noah dared to ask.
“I don’t care, just so long as it is blue.”
“Ok then – Mrs Bishop?”
“Oh, don’t you look at me, love, just do whatever makes him happy.”
“Ok then – underwater it is.” Noah was a keen painter, and he set to work with designs almost immediately, grabbing several pieces of paper and sketching out what he wanted with a pencil. His head kept jerking upwards every few moments to have another look at the wall. Moses seemed largely disinterested in the whole endeavour, and he sat down in his armchair and picked up a newspaper rather than help. Mrs Bishop, not really knowing what to do, admired some of the things that Noah was sketching and then left, saying that she would ‘leave them to it’.
“Oh good – that’s got rid of her.” Moses announced, as soon as he heard the door shut.
“Yes.”
“How is your art coming along?”
“Great thanks.” Noah shifted a few things as he reached for an eraser.
“That’s good. Do you require any musical accompaniment?”
“What?” Noah had to put his pencil down this time, because he felt he couldn’t really answer such a strange question without directly addressing the querent.
“Musical accompaniment – to get you feeling in a more creative mood.” Moses stated, feeling that this was a perfectly legitimate question to ask.
“What sort of musical accompaniment?”
“Well,” Moses paused, “unless you’re asking me to sing, all I can offer you is harp.”
“Harp?” Noah repeated. This conversation was just getting weirder.
“I play the harp fairly well. I can accompany you if you like.” Noah really did not know how to respond to this proposition. He had never been offered the chance to have his sketches accompanied by a live harp solo before, and so he didn’t really know how to go about refusing such an offer. In the end, he decided, the only option open to him was to say ‘yes’, both to avoid embarrassment and being beaten to death with a harp by an angry Moses.
“Oh, alright then.”
“Very well – I shall fetch my harp.” Moses disappeared into the dining room and returned with a large harp and a small stool to sit on. He got himself ready, and then began plucking the strings of the instrument in a manner most angelic. To Noah’s surprise, it was actually a very soothing melody, and he felt that he quite liked it. Moses did not say a word for the entire time, he just continued to play the harp to a rather exemplary standard, and it actually helped Noah to think of more ideas. His pencil appeared to be sketching furiously, but it was in fact flowing over the pages, producing a most elegant design, and when he was finished he found he had 10 pages of paper covered with designs.