Artistic Licence (21 page)

Now she was on her own she prowled around, exploring her territory. It felt good. It was still spacious and light, lighter without the carpet, and to her surprise it already felt like her space and she was happy to be there on her own.

She went down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea with the kettle donated by Molly. While she was in the kitchen waiting for it to boil, she explored the cupboards and found a door she hadn’t opened before. It was a little room, beyond the kitchen. There was a window in it, but it was too small to use as exhibition space. It was like a bedroom, really. Then she noticed the washbasin in the corner and realised it
was
a bedroom. Why it was there she couldn’t tell, but it might come in very handy – if the worst came to the worst she could let her own room at home and live here.

Back in the kitchen, where there was a desk, she opened out the envelope of plans she had been given, marking clearly what she had rented at such vast expense. There, beyond the kitchen, was the little
room. Thea decided to bring a sleeping bag and pillow next time she came. Cheltenham seemed far away at the end of a long day and there would be many, many long days, though now, even if she’d had the sleeping bag and pillow, the call of a bath would have lured her home.

At home she was annoyed, though not particularly surprised, to discover there was no hot water when she felt the tank. She met Petal coming out of the bathroom looking pink and shiny, and irritatingly clean. ‘I can’t believe you lot have managed to use every drop of hot water,’ snapped Thea.

She was usually much more philosophical about such small disappointments and Petal was affronted. ‘Oh, sorry. We didn’t think. We were all tired, so we wanted baths.’

‘So did I!’

This was so unlike the easygoing Thea that Petal tried to placate her. ‘We borrowed a bottle of red wine from you. Would you like a glass?’

Thea sighed. Actually she yearned for one of Rory’s tumblers of neat whiskey, but more than that she wanted to rid herself of the grime. ‘Later, perhaps. Did you let the water out? Of your bath?’

‘Er … no. I was just going to clean it now.’

Yeah, right, thought Thea. Petal was wearing a very skimpy top and a pair of tight black hipsters, and clutching a pile of dirty underwear. She did not look as if she were about to wield the foaming cleanser and a sponge. Besides, her hair was wet and Petal had strong priorities.

‘Then I’ll get in your water.’

Petal shuddered at the thought.

Thea sighed and to soothe Petal’s horror said, ‘Thank you for getting everyone to work so hard today. You all did brilliantly.’

Petal smiled. ‘We’re sending out for pizza. Shall we order you one?’

Thea nodded. ‘That would be great.’

A few moments later she was lying in a lukewarm soup of orange scented bath ballistics, baby oil and several other strange unguents with which Petal liked to anoint her body. It wasn’t perfect, but it was wet and warm, and would do until she could have a proper bath.

The phone rang just as she had finished slooshing herself and the now empty bath with clean water. ‘I suppose I couldn’t just stop having a telephone?’ she asked herself rhetorically. ‘Would the world really come to an end?’

No one replied to her and, shivering, she waited to see if the others would answer it before realising that they probably couldn’t hear it over the music. Praying that it wasn’t Molly wanting to discuss tactics or anyone else who might be long, she wrapped herself in a towel and pattered across to her bedroom.

It was Rory. ‘I’m about ten miles from you. I’m calling from a phone box.’

‘Oh!’

‘Are you at home to visitors?’

‘Of course.’ For anyone else she’d have said no, but Rory was different. Besides, she could hardly not invite him in the circumstances.

Quickly Thea washed her ballistic-stiffened hair, pulled on clothes and rushed downstairs, pulling at
her hair with her fingers as she did so, in lieu of blow-drying. ‘Hey, Petal! Rory’s coming. Give me a hand tidying up this lot.’ She indicated the table, littered with beer cans and glasses.

‘Rory! Cool! Sorry I won’t be here to see him. You really should put some mousse or something on your hair or it’ll go all funny. Oh, and by the way, the hairdryer’s not working. It’s in my room.’

Thea glared at the door that Petal closed behind her. Still, at least Rory wouldn’t mind the mess and by the time he’d got lost a few times she would probably have plenty of time to clear up. Her hair would have to look after itself.

‘Thea! You smell like a flower garden and look even more appetising.’

Thea put her arms round Rory and hugged him, her affection for him heightened by red wine on an empty and tired stomach. He smelt of turf fires and Sweet Afton tobacco. He reminded her of clear, light air and silver seas. ‘You got lost.’

‘Sure. Your directions were hopeless.’

‘They were not! Now come in and let me get you a drink and some pizza. Can you stay for pizza? Bought in, I’m afraid, but quite edible. Do you want to stay the night?’ Quite where she’d put him she didn’t know, as it was unlikely a sofa in her bedroom would satisfy Rory, but she’d sort something out if necessary. Then she became aware that Rory wasn’t following her into the house with his usual confidence.

‘I’ve got something in the car to show you, bring you, really.’

‘Paintings?’ At least now she had space to store
them, although how she’d get them across to the gallery in her little car she would have to find out.

‘Not paintings. I’m having those shipped. They should be here in a day or two. Puppies. And Lara. I need you to look after them for me.’

Rory moved to the back of the Land Rover. There was Lara and in front of her was a box of puppies. ‘Rory! They’re tiny! Although they have grown like mad. How old are they?’

‘Can’t you remember? You were there.’

It felt like several lifetimes ago. ‘They can’t be much more than a month old – possibly less.’ Her heart leapt as she saw that all six were there; the little runt had made it this far. ‘What are you doing dragging them all over the countryside? Bring them in before they get cold.’

Lara jumped down. She pattered down the road, then squatted and produced a wee the size of a garden pond.

Rory ignored this. ‘It’s May, you know, hardly the middle of winter.’ He picked up the box of puppies. ‘I’m off to London tomorrow. I’m hoping you’ll look after them for me.’

Little black and white faces appeared over the top of the box, looking plaintively at Thea, who was staring at Rory in confusion and horror. Then she shut her mouth and ushered the party inside. The street was no place for a custody battle. ‘Bring them down into the kitchen where at least we can talk.’

Lara went ahead and soon settled herself in front of the Rayburn which, because of the huge hot-water demands of the household, was kept going summer and winter. She grinned happily up at Thea, unaware
of how unwelcome she was.

‘I’ll put the pups down here next to Lara.’

‘Rory, I can’t look after the puppies. I’ve just started work on the gallery. And anyway, they’re far too young to be moved.’

‘I know, but Susan’s gone away somewhere and there’s nowhere else I can leave them. I have to go to London. Sure, you wouldn’t have me let them starve to death?’

Thea pursed her lips as she poured him a glass of wine. ‘I don’t suppose I should give you this. I’d better make some coffee.’

He took the wine. ‘Ah, don’t be cross.’ He grinned maddeningly. ‘Although you do look lovely when you’re angry.’

‘Rory! Don’t you know saying that sort of thing is likely to get you something unpleasant and messy tipped over your head?’

‘I thought I might get away with it with you, Thea.’

Thea couldn’t be cross any longer. She was too tired. ‘Well, let’s get Lara fed. Then we can think what to do about the pups. Are they on solid food yet?’

Rory shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. Susan’s been doing them up to now.’ He pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Have you any more wine?’

‘When are you going to London?’ asked Thea, having retrieved her secret bottle from behind the bleach.

‘I’m planning to drive through the night. I can’t cope with London traffic in daylight.

That at least solved the problem of where he was to sleep. ‘Well, don’t drink any more alcohol. If you’ve got to drive to London.’

‘Stop fussing, Thea, and sit down and let me look at you.’

When Lara was happily eating her supper out of the washing-up bowl, Thea sat and poured herself another glass of wine. ‘So, why are you going to London? I thought you had an aversion to the place.’

Rory didn’t answer, but poured more wine into his glass.

‘I don’t want to sound like someone’s mother, but there are laws against drinking and driving, you know.’ If he drank any more, she’d end up having to offer him a bed for the night, which would involve all sorts of complications.

‘I promise you, drink doesn’t affect my driving at all.’

‘You mean, you swerve all over the road anyway?’

‘I do not and you know it.’

‘So why are you going to London, Rory?’ His body language made her wonder if he was hiding something from her.

‘To visit family. There’s a whole lot of cousins and aunts and things I haven’t seen for years. I want to catch up with them all.’

It sounded a perfectly valid explanation. No reason why she should suspect him of anything. There were members of her own family she hadn’t seen for ages. So why wasn’t she quite happy about it?

‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘how this gallery’s going. What are the chances of it coming off? Sixty-forty? Or only evens.’

‘What? Rory, how dare you!’ She was laughing, but she was genuinely incensed by his lack of faith. ‘Of course my gallery is going to come off. I have been
through hoops getting the space, that’s all. Which meant borrowing money from … someone.’

She realised just in time that if she mentioned Molly he would assume it didn’t matter if Molly was paid back, because she was rich. ‘I’ve spent all day pulling up carpets, washing floors, doing everything I can to make it into the most wonderful art gallery in the south-west, and you suggest to me that it might not “come off”?’

Rory sighed. ‘Jesus, Thea, you know how to give a fellow a hard time.’

‘I am not giving you a hard time. I am telling it like it is. So I hope you haven’t even the inkling of an idea about reneging on our deal.’ She put on her most landlady-like expression and then smiled. ‘It was your work that inspired me. Your work which made me want to do it.’

Rory got up from the table, pushed past the chairs and put his arms round Thea. His hug turned to a kiss, chaste enough at first, but then he opened her mouth with his and kissed her properly.

Thea found herself responding. He was a wonderful kisser, his arms were firm and comforting, and she was tired, a little drunk and still angry. It was nice to be held and kissed, even though it was the cause of her anger who was kissing her.

He pushed his hand up under her shirt, caressing the skin of her waist and back. ‘Come to bed with me.’

Thea reconnected with reality. ‘No. You’re an artist. A bloody good one, but I don’t want to sleep with you.’ She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. ‘Have you no morals?’

‘I left them in my other coat. You’re so lovely, Thea,
and I want you so much. Give me one night in your arms and I’ll take the puppies back to Ireland and let my family go hang.’ He was getting more and more urgent, his hands up and down her body, running his fingers round under the waistband of her jeans.

Thea pulled away more determinedly this time. ‘Rory! Sit!’

Lara, who had been watching the antics of her master with interest, obediently sat. Rory looked like he wasn’t going to. ‘I’m warning you.’

He sighed and sank back down into a chair. ‘Come on, it’s a good offer, isn’t it? You said you hadn’t time to look after the pups. Sleep with me and I’ll take them away.’

Thea watched him. Something about this situation wasn’t quite as it seemed. She didn’t trust him further than she could throw him – he would almost certainly make love to her, possibly several times, and then get in his Land Rover and carry on to London, and she’d still be left with Lara and the pups. No, it wasn’t him trying to take her to bed that bothered her. There was something about this London trip which didn’t ring true.

She gave him a friendly smile. ‘You go to London and meet up with all the rich aunties who might leave you money. But don’t think I’m going to take over your animals for ever. I’ll want you back in plenty of time for the private view.’

He frowned. ‘Sure, I’m not much cop at private views. Think of what happened last time. The critics might trash my work all over again.’

‘No, they won’t.’

‘How do you know?’

‘I don’t
know
, but I do believe. I think you’re the best, the most exciting artist I’ve seen for a long time. And so does Ben,’ she added quickly, before he could remember that she had probably seen very little new art lately. ‘He thinks you’re very special, special enough to make it worth me mortgaging my house to finance the gallery.’

‘What do you mean? Jesus, you never did that, surely?’

Thea didn’t want to deceive Rory and she had nothing but a faint instinct that anything was wrong, but she felt she must stress her conviction that his work was worth enormous sacrifices and that she was making them. The fact that she hadn’t actually mortgaged her house was only a technical matter. ‘He thinks your work is worth me giving up my life for, so I can create a space worthy of it. And I can tell you that his opinion is very highly respected in the art world.’

Rory was looking a little uncomfortable, although that could have been the hard kitchen chair he was sitting on. ‘You’re a wonderful woman and I’m truly grateful for everything you’ve done for me.’

To Thea, this sounded like she was being written off, but she produced a suitably modest smile. ‘You’re the artist.’

He nodded. ‘You wouldn’t have those slides you took about you, would you?’

Thea shook her head, secretly gleeful. ‘I’m awfully sorry, Molly’s sent them away to have postcards made. It takes ages, you see.’ The lies tripped off her tongue like broken beads – they were only half-lies, anyway. They were going to have some postcards done and they probably did take ages. In fact, she’d better put it
on her ‘to do’ list.