Two photos of a colour watercolour tattoo on the upper chest, with pink and teal brushstrokes, small red hearts and black script reading I'll love you forever and I'll like you for always.

Watercolour script quote on upper chest

Lettering · Chest · Colour · Photo

The image shows two photographs of the same watercolour-style tattoo on the upper chest, one above the other. Pink and magenta brushstrokes sweep across the skin, with teal and green splashes, drips and small dots, and black cursive script runs over the colour. Small red hearts sit at either end of the design, which is shown in a soft, even light.

Lettering Chest Brushstroke Watercolour splash Heart Quote Script

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The last pot of magenta had a skin on it by the time Stanley came round the back of the wagon, turning his hat in both hands. Behind him the big top sagged like a wet sheet, and somebody was already folding the ring boards into the lorry. He wanted the side panel done before the Hull market run, the one that would say I'll love you forever in curling gold script for his wife Vi, who had ridden the grey mare round that ring for thirty-one years. He didn't know yet that she had bought the teal paint off me herself that morning, and that the tin was a bit lighter for it.

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I painted it the way my mother taught me in the sign shop in Leeds, with the brush loaded and lifted at every full stop. Where the rain got in under the canvas I let the teal run down in drips, and some of it found the H in Harcourt's and stayed there, so I left it. Stanley stood at my elbow reading the words over, his lips moving slightly, and said the loops were lovely, just lovely. He didn't say anything about the splash across the corner, which I took as a blessing.

Vi came round at dusk with her own brush and asked me to do the second board for the lorry's rear door, the one facing the road. She wanted I'll like you for always in the same hand, and she wanted the hearts small, in red, at either end. I asked her why not love, and she said love was what you said when you were frightened of losing somebody, and like was what you chose again each morning. I didn't argue, because she was holding my tin.

When the lorry pulled out at first light the boards were still tacky, and the gulls were already walking the wet grass. Stanley drove with one hand on the wheel and his other arm out of the window, and I watched him in the mirror, reading the back door over and over as if the words might change if he looked hard enough.