CHAPTER NINE
INVERSION
Thankfully the day was cool, for Harriet was not. Why ever had she agreed to nine? She had thought at the moment of conception that nine paintings in nine months would be easily achievable. Perhaps she had overlooked the conceptual element, the time needed for its execution. Five months into the collaboration and she had finished just one piece and had the other eight in various stages of genesis. But today was Christmas Eve, and by necessity she had been forced from the studio for the festivities. Even so, she couldn’t relinquish her preoccupation.
She was standing between the beaded curtain and the fireplace, hands on her hips, elbows thrust wide, grateful for the ventilation afforded by her smock. Her eyes were fixed on her Kandinsky piece hanging above the pia
