Bev Vivian, who is a felt and silk artist, would have to be one of the most unflappable and level-headed people I have ever met. She and husband Mel live in a large and rambling Federation building on Vincent Street that used to be a bank. Hence it is the BankHouse and has featured in more than a few photos and paintings.
Bev and Mel never have to attend aerobics or Pilates to keep fit. Inside this beautiful building is a precipitously high and steep staircase. Just popping up and down a few times every day would certainly guarantee their continuing good cardiac health.
When I first met Bev, she had recently had a knee replacement. She asked if she could supply the East End Gallery with some of her exquisite scarves and hats, as she was over attending markets on the weekends and being on her feet for hours on end.
"Poor frail old things" was my immediate thought, so of course I agreed to stock her Beverley V designs. A couple of days later, she and Mel manhandled a large and awkward unit into the Gallery. "Found this at a garage sale!" was Bev's happy exclamation. She and Mel manoeuvred the unwieldy cabinet into its designated spot, set up the glass shelves and Bev reappeared with a colourful kaleidoscope of hats and scarves. Which she promptly arranged on the unit, before handing me the neatly written inventory of items she had prepared.
Never judge a book by its cover. There was absolutely nothing frail or doddery about this pair. In the years since I often see Mel striding up the street at a very quick pace. Bev drops in periodically to present me with an updated list and replenish the stock. There is no doubt that Beverley V creations have a following and are admired and are bought on a very regular basis.
Bev and Mel have attended our Sundowners, joined us for a Christmas drink and dropped in and out of our lives as a most agreeable couple. I had never known Bev to become flustered, until this week.
Her stock had become quite low and I was contemplating talking to her when she wandered into the Gallery. Jan was also in attendance and we happily sorted through Bev's large bag of felted goodies whilst she undertook a quick count. As we wanted every single item, Bev agreed that she would take them all home to add the tags and come back the following day. No problem.
I was aware that Bev didn't return on the allotted day, which was unusual. She eventually arrived empty-handed with a worried expression on her face. Had she left the bag of hats and scarves in the Gallery...? Uh no, Bev.
She explained the calamity. They had done a very quick tidy of their home as visitors came to the door. The bag had been camouflaged in a Very Safe Place. Which had been forgotten in the haste of sudden entertaining.
Further subdued, she went home in order to undertake a search that would rival a major police operation. She was back in a surprisingly short interval. With the bag excitedly restored to this dimension.
The hunt for the bag had been comprehensive. They had searched nooks and crannies and probably been up and down that suicidal staircase a number of times. Bev had refused to give in. Finally, the bag's hidey hole had been revealed.
"Where was the bag, Bev?"
"Behind the ironing pile!".
Problem solved and catastrophe avoided. Bev's features returned to their usual calm and cheerful countenance. I just want to know what persuaded her to look behind the ironing pile...
Bev and Mel - seasoned groovers at our March Sundowner
Their home - the Bank-House
Artist Jos conducting a plein air experience outside the East End Gallery, the Bank-House being the subject
With the finished piece...
How big was that ironing pile?!
Liberated at last and now on show at the East End Gallery!
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