Free Black Valley by Charlotte Williams Page A

the valleys, but no one knows where. He paints these massive canvasses showing the insides of abandoned mines. The terrible destruction wreaked by
capitalism kind of thing.’
    ‘Sounds a bit grim.’
    ‘I know. But they’re really pushing the boat out for this exhibition, I’m told. It’s going to be a big event. Champagne, canapés, the works.
Le tout
Cardiff
will be there. And it’ll be full of incredibly pretentious people from this London art gallery where his work’s being sold.’
    ‘That’s hardly a plus, is it?’
    ‘Course it is. Listen to this.’ She heard Mari scrabble for a piece of paper, and then she began to read. ‘“Hefin Morris explores the potential of peripherality, in a
series of works that create tentative dialogues within an abstract, non-summative space, circumventing representation to question the notion of painting as a fully realized practice and reimagining
it as a continuous reconfiguration, enigmatically subverting the concept of political and artistic agency by distorting and mutating the idea of authorship and originality.”’ She
paused. ‘Come on, Jess, what’s not to like?’
    Jess laughed.
    ‘But we might have to listen to hours of speeches like that.’
    ‘No way. If it gets boring, we’ll just skip off for a drink in town.’
    Jess thought about it. Rose had arranged to go over to her friend’s for a sleepover on Saturday night. She herself had made no plans, other than catching up on some reading.
    ‘Why not?’ she said, making up her mind. ‘Though I might not stay for long.’
    ‘Whatever you like.’ Mari paused. ‘Six thirty at the museum, then. I’ll be in the lobby.’
    ‘Fine. What should I wear, d’you think?’
    ‘Something glam. Or arty. Whatever it is, don’t look too matchy-matchy. Unless it’s tops and bottoms in the same fabric.’ She paused again. ‘But then again, maybe
not. It might look as if you’re wearing pyjamas.’
    ‘Right.’ Jess was slightly nonplussed. Mari’s rules about fashion violations never made any sense to her. ‘Well, I’ll do my best.’
    ‘Till tomorrow, then,
cariad
. Ta-ra.’
    Jess clicked the phone off, wondering whether she should have accepted Mari’s invitation. She’d rather cherished the idea of an evening alone on the sofa with a book. Still, she
thought, it was time she got out and about again, as a single woman. It would be a strange feeling, being on her own again in that kind of situation, without Bob at her side; but nothing ventured,
nothing gained.
    She got up off the sofa and went to find Rose.
    She was in her bedroom, the door open to the landing. When Jess went in, she saw she’d laid out her clothes on the bed.
    ‘Packing for your sleepover?’ Jess came over and stood beside her.
    ‘No.’ Rose seemed preoccupied. ‘More for the future.’
    ‘The future?’
    ‘When I go and stay with Dad.’ She paused. ‘And Tegan.’
    Bob had picked Rose up from school earlier that day, taken her out to tea, and told her about Tegan. Jess had been surprised at how quickly he’d done it, but she could hardly complain,
having given her permission for the visit to go ahead.
    ‘I just want to make sure I’ve got everything I need.’ Rose picked up a pink washbag covered in dancing hippos, and frowned at it.
    ‘I’ll buy you a new one.’
    ‘Thanks. Now, which do you think, Mum?’ She held up a pink cotton nightie. Then she gestured towards her favourite pyjamas, which featured a Moomin design on the front.
    ‘I suppose the pyjamas would be warmer.’
    ‘But the nightie’s more . . .’
    ‘Mmm.’ Jess paused, realizing for the first time that Rose was thinking about what would impress Bob’s new girlfriend. When she’d come home, she’d told Jess that
Tegan was her favourite TV newsreader, and that she was excited to meet her.
    ‘Well, wear whichever you feel more comfortable in.’ Jess realized this was beside the point, but she couldn’t think of anything else to