A Hallowed Place (10 page)

There was a brief, embarrassed silence. Leo was bemused. Clearly a certain hostility already existed between Ms Angelicos and Harvey. He wondered if Chay had been aware of it.

Chay scratched his designer stubble. ‘There’s something in what Derek says. I think for the core collection at least,
we have to set our sights on well-established artists. People like Patrick Heron, Bill Woodrow, Warhol … Works that the general public can feel safe with.’

Melissa laughed. It was a bright, scornful laugh with an icy edge. ‘If safety is what this project is all about—’

Chay raised a hand. ‘Safety isn’t what it’s all about. Perhaps I used the wrong word. What I mean is that we need established names to convince people that this is fundamentally a museum with a really prestigious collection of twentieth-century art. That way we can get funding to acquire more - more -’ Chay groped in the air with thin fingers for the right word ‘—innovative, exciting work.’

‘But, basically, what you’re saying is that we have to take a philistine approach.’

Chay sighed. Leo smiled to himself, intrigued, and glanced across at Anthony, who was doodling on a piece of paper and looking bored.

‘I don’t think you can call my plans for the video installation philistine,’ retorted Chay. ‘I’m planning on bringing in some of the most ground-breaking work in years. Anyway, if you want to be confrontational, perhaps you can turn your attention to the open-space area. That really does need something … transgressive to bring it alive.’

At this, Melissa looked interested. ‘Open space? I didn’t know we had one.’

‘It’s at the back, where the brewery lorries used to park to load up. Come on, I’ll show you all before it gets dark.’

Chay led them all out to the back of the building and indicated a large concrete yard. ‘This is all going to be
broken up. I had no specific concept in mind, but it seemed to me that there must be some sort of interactive piece, an ongoing thing …’ He gestured vaguely.

‘Absolutely perfect,’ said Melissa. ‘I know a women’s collective who create fantastic organic pieces, dealing in rootedness and estrangement. This kind of open space will be absolutely marvellous for them to work in.’

‘Ask them to submit some ideas,’ said Chay. ‘We need it up and running in a matter of months.’

They went back inside and arranged themselves around the table once more.

‘I was thinking about what Chay said earlier about the core collection,’ said Leo. He hadn’t spoken until now and Melissa glanced up. She had noticed on being introduced to him that he was a good-looking man, exceptionally so, but his City suit and apparently reserved demeanour set him, in her mind, among a certain unexciting type, rather like Graham Amery. She had assumed he might be Chay’s accountant. ‘A friend of mine in Paris tells me there may be a couple of good pieces by Anthony Caro corning on the market soon. We may be able to snap something up, if we move quickly enough.’

‘Anthony Caro is just the kind of thing we’re after,’ said Chay enthusiastically. ‘Is it an auction?’

‘No,’ said Leo, ‘this would be private. I told him that I could discuss prices with him next week, if the museum is interested.’

‘Absolutely,’ said Chay. Derek Harvey murmured in agreement, nodding.

‘Speaking of sculpture, I noticed that there’s going to be
an auction of some pieces by that brick fellow, Carl Andre,’ said Tony Gear. ‘Maybe that’s something we should go for.’

Chay nodded. ‘I’m thinking of employing a couple of junior staff in the next few weeks, people to whom we can delegate the business of actually purchasing works on the trust’s behalf. What we need right now are suggestions for acquisitions, then we can make collective decisions as we go along.’

‘Well, unless Derek is going to slap me down straight away—’ Melissa shot Derek Harvey a cold glance ‘—we might like to consider obtaining a work by Damien Hirst. I know his agent very well.’

The meeting carried on for another half-hour or so and, apart from one more briefly abrasive exchange between Melissa and Derek, broke up amicably.

‘Do you want a lift back?’ Leo asked Anthony.

‘No, that’s all right. I’m going on for dinner with Chay. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Everyone made their way back through the gallery areas towards the main entrance. In the last and largest room, Leo stood for a few moments looking around him, studying the space and light.

Melissa Angelicos sauntered over in his direction, glancing around. ‘Fantastic space, isn’t it?’ she remarked.

‘I was just wondering,’ replied Leo thoughtfully, ‘whether it’s big enough to take one of Thomas Schutte’s installations. Something like that would make a very impressive centrepiece.’

Melissa looked at him appraisingly. ‘You’ve seen his work?’

‘I went to his exhibition in Düsseldorf last year. It was remarkable.’ He turned to smile at her. Melissa, like most women on whom Leo smiled, felt instant pleasure and faint excitement. ‘I have to confine my own collection of sculpture to rather more conveniently sized pieces, of course,’ Leo added.

‘You collect, do you?’

‘On a modest scale. Mainly abstract works.’ They sauntered together to the door, talking about Leo’s collection. Melissa glanced at him frequently as he talked, rearranging her initial impression. She was a woman whose interest in people, especially men, was easily quickened, particularly if they were attractive. And she found Leo attractive, decidedly so. Already her mind was leaping ahead to the possibilities. Age made her less subtle these days, more ready to engage. She had lived through so many relationships that she no longer considered or reflected. Each relationship was briefer than the one before, and each one left her harder, and hungrier.

By the time they came through the gates and into the darkening street, the others had gone.

‘That the last of you?’ asked the security guard.

‘I think so,’ replied Leo, glancing round. The guard nodded and clanged the gates together, then locked them.

Melissa peered at her watch and gave an anxious little sigh. ‘God alone knows how I’m going to find a taxi around here. I suppose I’ll just have to walk up to Liverpool Street.’

‘Can I give you a lift somewhere?’ Leo had no particular wish for Melissa’s company. He had been around women long enough to recognise the faintly predatory atmosphere
which was gathering. But he knew he had no choice.

‘Well, I don’t want to take you out of your way, but if you happened to be going anywhere near Kensington …?’

‘I live in Belgravia,’ said Leo, ‘so it’s no trouble.’ Kensington was so close to Knightsbridge, so close to Joshua … He could just drop in, on the off chance. The memory of the night before seemed to have grown more and more intense in the last couple of hours. He had thought about the boy on and off all through the meeting. But he shouldn’t, he knew. He should not even consider compromising his dignity and pride for - for what? A mere boy. But such a boy.

Suddenly he realised that Melissa was saying something to him. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t catch …’ Melissa repeated what she had said and Leo replied, ‘No, not far. I parked just up here.’

The car, and Leo’s preoccupied air as they drove off through the deserted, darkening streets of Shoreditch, gave Melissa further cause for speculation. She fished around through a selection of opening remarks, then said brightly, ‘You know, Leo, I can’t quite place you in all of this. Chay did tell me at some point who all the trustees were and what they did, but I’m so busy these days that I forget everything. I know your name, but that’s all.’

‘I’m a barrister,’ replied Leo. ‘I’m in chambers with Chay’s son, Anthony. Chay knew I liked modern art, and I think he thought having a lawyer on his team might help.’ What if it was Joshua’s night off? Already his mind and heart were living the possibility of disappointment. Or what if he were there, working, and simply ignored Leo?
He had been over this countless times. There was no point. Either he should decide to go now, as soon as he’d dropped this woman off, or he should forget about the whole thing for good.

Melissa made a little face as she looked out at the passing streets. This wasn’t exactly going to be easy, not if he was going to look so blank and speak so laconically. She turned back to him with a smile. ‘A barrister! How very glamorous.’

He would go. That was it, the decision made. He should stop thinking about Joshua and concentrate on being polite to this woman. He caught her last remark and smiled, glancing at her. Better, thought Melissa, meeting his eyes briefly and thinking how very blue they were. Blue as a child’s.

‘Hardly,’ replied Leo. ‘You’re the one with the glamorous job.’

She gave a modest laugh. ‘Do you watch my programme?’

Leo nodded. ‘Yes. It’s good. I like it very much.’

‘Sweet of you.’

‘Though I sometimes think’, went on Leo, ‘that you concentrate very heavily on confrontational work.’ He smiled reflectively. ‘What a kind adjective. I really mean work that seems gratuitously offensive, purely there for its shock value.’

‘I like what’s new. I detest complacency. Anything that shakes up the art world possesses merit for me. Serrano, the Chapman brothers … Above all, I like to be excited.’ She paused, glanced at him and dropped her voice slightly. ‘Don’t you like to be excited, Leo?’

Leo almost laughed. ‘Oh, yes,’ he replied. ‘By art. By life.’ He turned to look at her again, unsurprised by the sensuality of the gaze which met his. This could, he thought, turn out to be a tiresome thirty-minute journey. As they drove, he managed to keep the conversation focused on the subject of Melissa’s programme, deftly deflecting the occasional provocative remark, and wondered how long it would take her to get to the question of his marital status.

‘I live just past those gardens at the end, the right-hand turning,’ said Melissa. She sighed as though tired. ‘My little haven of tranquillity at the end of the day. Silence if I want it. Music if I don’t. Bliss. Living alone is one of the great pleasures in life, don’t you think? Or do you go home to a life of happy domestic chaos?’

Leo took the right-hand turning. ‘Which number?’ he asked.

‘Nine.’

The Aston Martin drew to a gentle halt outside Melissa’s house. Leo left the engine running. He turned to her, to answer the question left hanging in the air. ‘No. No domestic chaos, happy or otherwise. I live alone. My wife and I are in the process of divorcing.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Melissa, hardly even bothering to sound sincere.

Leo thought of Oliver. Tomorrow was Thursday. He still hadn’t rung Rachel to make a firm arrangement about going to Bath to see him on Sunday. He pondered this briefly and Melissa took the silence which fell between them as potentially significant.

‘It’s still only nine-thirty,’ she said, after a moment. ‘I
haven’t eaten yet. Would you like to come in for a drink? We could carry on our conversation about art and I could make us both some supper. Scrambled eggs and smoked salmon, if I’ve got some salmon in the freezer—’

‘I’m sorry. That’s very kind, but I have an appointment. Someone I have to see.’

Melissa felt an unexpectedly strong pang of disappointment and jealousy. Some other woman, of course. Men like Leo always had a string of them. It suddenly seemed vitally important that he should not slip the net so easily.

She smiled and gave a little shrug. ‘Just a drink, then. I’m sure you have ten minutes. It’s not often I meet a stimulating man who doesn’t make me feel threatened.’

Leo gave a little laugh of astonishment. ‘Well, I’m glad of that. But really, I must say no. Maybe some other time.’ He cursed inwardly - why had he said that? Because it was one of those things that simply slipped out.

She sighed lightly and opened the door, preparing to get out. ‘Oh, well. As you say, some other time. Maybe after the next trustees meeting?’

The tone of enquiry was so direct that Leo was obliged to respond. ‘That depends. We’ll have to see.’ He was damned if he was going to have his hand forced in this way. ‘Goodnight.’

She startled him by leaning over and kissing him briefly and softly on his cheek, then she slipped out of the car and was gone. Her scent hung in the air and he sat for a moment trying to recall what it was. L’Air du Temps, that was it - one he had always rather disliked. Putting the car
into gear, Leo drove off into the night in the direction of Knightsbridge.

As she mounted the steps to her flat and put the key in the lock, Melissa’s mind was already working overtime on the matter of Leo Davies and the necessity of seducing him. The next trustees meeting might be weeks away and that was too long to wait. When Melissa got hungry, her appetites needed to be satisfied quickly. She smiled as she took off her coat and went to pour herself a drink. She liked projects. She liked plans. She always brought them to fruition. Always.

Leo parked round the corner from the Galleria and sat in the car for a moment or two. He felt uncharacteristically nervous. Rather than think about it any longer, he got out, locked the car and went into the Galleria. It was at its busiest and at first he couldn’t see Joshua. Just as he was about to ask a passing waitress if it was his night off, Joshua came through the door leading from the kitchens. He saw Leo straight away, held his gaze for a moment, then went to the table he was serving. Leo stood at the bar, hesitant. He had been able to read nothing in Joshua’s expression. Perhaps he was just going to ignore him. The girl behind the bar said something to him and Leo glanced at her. ‘Sorry?’

‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked again. She had a strong Australian accent.

‘Ah … Yes. Yes. I’ll have a Scotch, please. No ice.’

Joshua set the plates down in front of the customers, conscious of the sudden acceleration of his heartbeat. He had no idea whether he was glad to see Leo or not. Had he hoped he would come in tonight? Part of him had, another
part had hoped he would just stay away. But he had guessed Leo would come. There he was now, leaning against the bar, cool as anything, having a drink. Waiting.

Joshua finished dealing with the customers and went over to Leo, his tray tucked under his arm. They looked at one another for a few significant seconds, then Leo, sipping his Scotch, asked, ‘Do you mind my coming here?’