It looked as if the sky had turned to liquid and was running down a tree trunk. The strands of blue flowed into each other forming a tangled, twisted trail that poured down the glass. They were stopped from seeping onto the floor by silvered strips of lead attached to the frame. Lola wanted to reach out and touch the window to see if it was actually wet. But there were too many guards around so she put her hands inside her pockets instead.
There was a plate below the artwork with small black letters written upon it. Lola leaned forward and squinted. ‘Too small,’ she said and rummaged around in her coat pocket for the spectacles that weren’t there. She stepped back, stared at the intricate swirls of etched-in colour and closed her heavily lashed lids.
‘“The last remaining work by the artist is a testimony to his skill as both a painter and a master in the art of stained glass.” It is beautiful isn’t it?’
Lola opened her eyes, straightened her back and saw a young man dressed in a grey shirt and black trousers grin at her. She noticed that his teeth were uneven and chipped, and involuntarily covered her mouth with her hand. The man closed his. Lola offered her gloved fingers to him. He touched the tips with his thumb and forefinger, and bowed.
‘Oh, I know who you are, you’re, Lola Strutt. I’ve seen all your movies.’
Lola sighed and pulled her hand away. ‘Don’t worry I’m not a stalker or anything.’‘Really? Then how did you know who I was?’
‘Your disguise isn’t very good. That raincoat is miles too big for you.’
Lola readjusted her blonde wig.
‘I wasn’t following you, I came to see this,’ Raphael said and pointed at the small stained glass window. ‘I’ve never seen anything so, so…fluid whilst remaining solid.’
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