Roger Noons
a small glass of Bols gin.
‘Jan?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Can we
speak?’
‘I’m rather
busy, is it important?’
‘It surely is.
The girl’s just come back from the market.’ When he didn’t take his gaze from
the canvas, she added. ‘With nothing. No food, nothing to drink, not even
yesterday’s vegetables. Our credit’s run out Jan, the traders want
guilders.’
‘Can’t your
mother—’
‘I’m tired of
running to Mama to get us out of trouble.’ The sob was evident in Catharina’s
voice. ‘Why can’t you sell one of your paintings? It’s supposed to be the Golden
Age, why won’t you send some to the Gallery? You belong to The Guild, I thought
that was set up to market your works?’
‘My paintings
are worth more than people wish to pay. I will wait until I can get a realistic
price.’
‘And in the
meantime we starve. All of us.’ She sighed. ‘I think we have to let Griet go,
she gets thinner by the day. It’s not fair on her, we cannot afford a
servant.’
‘She’s going
to sit for me. I think I can make a good tronie which will sell. I’d like you to
dress her up.’
‘Can’t you do
that in your spare time? I’ve heard the brewery by the river is closing. It’s
going to be used to make porcelain. The talk around the streets is that it will
put Delft on the map. They’ll be looking for people to paint local scenes. You
could do that.’
The look he
gave paused her, but having summoned up courage, she continued. ‘You could paint
for the weavers, which would be regular work.’
‘Catharina,
I’m an artist. Dress the girl up, I’ll start tomorrow. And see if you can find
an item of jewellery to brighten up her face. It’s rather
plain.’
‘Tronie’ is 16-17th Century Dutch for ‘face.’
Used in The Golden Age it referred to a ‘stock character in
costume.’
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