Artistic Licence (37 page)

‘And this isn’t several thousand, after all,’ Molly argued.

‘And I’m not getting married, nor likely to be. So this could be the equivalent dress. Expensive but exquisite. How much is it, by the way?’

‘Don’t tell her!’ Molly put up a silencing hand. ‘Darling, this is a present from me and Derek – we’re so grateful. I’ve had such fun and he’s had such peace and quiet. Buying you a dress is the least we can do.’

‘But it’s not the least you have done! You’ve already…’

‘That was all boring stuff; this is fun.’ Molly dismissed the matter of cost with an airy wave. ‘Now, Caro, what have you got for me to wear?’

The three photographer friends who, unlike Magenta, hadn’t had a hand in her present existence, arrived halfway through Saturday afternoon. Fortunately, when they saw Rory, the work and the space, Thea didn’t have to spend too long convincing them she’d made the right decision about her life at last.

‘Magenta told us the work was fantastic. She didn’t say anything about Rory,’ said one.

‘She only saw the slides of his work, not him,’ Thea explained. ‘We spent all day looking for him, but I didn’t come across him until after she’d gone off to the beauty parlour.’

‘Foolish Magenta! I think this is a great gallery and much better for you than being a landlady. I bet those students walked all over you.’

Petal, who was running a cloth over the skirting boards – her gesture to manual work – was within earshot and she looked up indignantly.

‘Well, some of them did. Not you, Petal, of course.’

Petal made a face. Unlike her aunt, she knew when Thea was being sarcastic or making a joke.

The photographers set up their equipment and snapped happily. They all took conventional photographs of the work, and roll after roll of film of Rory, Petal and Thea doing things.

‘Did I tell you that a journalist pal is arriving soon? She wants to do an article about you for one of the gossip mags.’

‘Oh, my God! All I need now is for someone to tell me that the
Sunday Sport
are coming to photograph me and Rory topless. I think everyone else has already been in touch.’

‘That would be fine by me,’ said Rory, who had climbed down from the ladder where he had been posing. ‘I like the idea of Thea topless in front of one of me daubs.’

‘Well there are going to be pictures of your pecs all over the press,’ said Thea. ‘Satisfy yourself with that thought.’

‘Seriously,’ Magenta put in. ‘You should be really grateful for all this publicity. It’s not easy to get and it’s very hard to get started without it.’

‘It was Ben,’ said Molly proudly. ‘He arranged it all.’

‘Who’s Ben?’ asked one of the women.

‘He’s connected to one of the London galleries,’ Magenta said, protecting Thea from probing questions. ‘Bloody useful, too.’

‘He’s also my cousin,’ Molly added, not wanting to
miss out on any reflected glory that was going. ‘Now, Thea, when are you going to get changed?’

Thea looked desperately at her watch. ‘It’s only four o’clock!’

‘I’m not saying you have to do it now. I’m saying you have to leave enough time to go home, change and get back.’

‘Oh, I’m not going home.’ Thea laughed at this suggestion. ‘I’d never have time to do that! I’m going to change …’

‘In my hotel room.’ Magenta still looked like a model. ‘It’s just across the road. I’m going to do her hair and make-up.’

Thea started on the ‘Oh, no you’re not’ but saw she was outnumbered and closed her mouth again.

‘Oh, good,’ said Molly, referring to her ever-present clipboard. ‘That’s one thing off my mind. Now, where are we going to set up the bar?’

At five to six Molly, Petal and her crowd, Rory and Thea were all ready. They were all nervous, although Rory refused to acknowledge it. He was impossibly good-looking in his casual suit, clean shirt and new shoes. No tie, of course, and although the clothes were all designer, he hadn’t lost his rugged manliness. Thea was aware that every woman who saw him would metaphorically fall at his feet.

‘Well, we’re all here,’ said Rory, ‘and the champagne and smoked salmon are here. Let’s forget about the punters and just have a lovely party!’

Too late Thea remembered she’d resolved to fill him up with stodge, so the alcohol wouldn’t go straight to his head. ‘Rory, can I have a word with you?’ She drew
him through into another room. She gathered a plate full of miniature tartlets filled with caviar and stuffed quails eggs. ‘Before you drink anything you’re to eat these. I’m not having you jeopardising your second chance because you got drunk again. Apart from anything else, it would do for my gallery before it’s even had a chance.’

‘It’s all right. No need to panic. I drank a tablespoon of olive oil before I came, which is what the Russians do to line their stomachs. I forced down a pint of water, so I’m too full to drink much and I’ve learnt my lesson after last time.’

‘Well, that’s a weight off my mind. I thought I’d have to be following you about, counting every glassful, smacking your wrist if you had too many.’

‘So you’re not going to do that now?’

‘Well, no, not if you’ve decided to be sensible.’

‘What a shame. I think I would have rather enjoyed it. You know you look sensational, don’t you, Thea? You knock those other women, who are not at all bad-looking, right out of the frame.’

‘Really?’ She didn’t believe him for a minute but his flattery was lovely.

‘Yes, really, and I might break my resolution not to try my hand at getting you into bed again. Now that would be worth staying sober for.’

Thea laughed. ‘You’re a terrible man, Rory Devlin. Let’s go and join the others.’

Chapter Twenty-Two

Although desperate for a drink to relieve her nerves, Thea had decided not to have anything alcoholic until it was all over. She couldn’t risk even the tiniest lapse of concentration.

Petal, who had a stream of beautiful girlfriends as well as copious male friends, had turned two of each into waiters and waitresses.

Molly had wanted the catering company to provide staff, to reduce the risk of the waiters getting drunk, or getting into artistic arguments with the art critics, but Thea had stood firm. ‘We’re only having champagne and canapés as a special dispensation. I draw the line at paying for waiters.’

‘Oh,’ said Petal, who had been listening keenly. ‘Aren’t they going to get paid, then?’

‘Of course,’ Thea backtracked. ‘But you’re family. I’d rather pay you lot than strangers.’

Molly gave her niece a look which promised eternal hellfire if anyone she had brought along for the work let them down.

Now Rory said, ‘Right, let’s open a bottle and have a stiffener before the hordes arrive.’

‘I’ll have an orange juice,’ Thea said. ‘And I hope they do arrive.’ She opened the gallery door and looked anxiously up and down the street.

‘They’re not due until six thirty,’ said Molly. ‘I’m sure someone will come.’

‘Oh, my God!’ Thea was still doing her ‘Sister Anne, Sister Anne, is there anyone coming’ impression. ‘A massive black car has just drawn up.’ She ducked back into the gallery. ‘I don’t want anyone to come now. I just want it to be us. And the girls.’

‘The girls’, who objected to this name in a casual way, were all still in the hotel opposite getting ready. Once they had dispatched Thea, looking as glamorous as any model and a lot more beautiful, back into the gallery, they had their own ablutions to make.

Rory put a glass of champagne into Thea’s hand. ‘Here, one drink won’t knock you over and it’ll help keep the smile on your face. Ah, here are the lovely ladies.’

Thea’s friends exchanged glances. ‘Do we object to that more than “girls” or less?’ asked Magenta.

Having decided it was a moot point, they helped themselves to champagne. ‘Lovely party, Thea. Here’s to you!’

Thea was still clutching her glass, as yet untouched, when the contents of the huge black car entered. She walked forward to greet them and found herself wrapped in a cloud of Eau Savage. ‘Thea, my dear, this looks fabulous!’

‘Edward! You came!’ Thea returned his embrace heartily, forgetting how important and influential he was, and thinking only how pleased she was to see him. ‘Come in and have a drink. Let Rory show you the work.’

‘Oh, Rory’s here, is he? How did you manage to keep him in line when so many of us have failed?’

Thea laughed and asked quietly, ‘Do you think Veronica will come?’

‘Darling, I don’t think she could keep away.’

To her relief, there were a few serious art journalists among the gossip columnists and photographers. They fought their way to Thea who had just discovered she was mistress of the soundbite. Deliver a few snappy sentences with confidence and people actually think you know what you’re talking about. You even got to believe it yourself. She decided to put Veronica to the back of her mind. If she did come, she might not spot Thea, or better, Thea might not spot her.

But even while talking to genuinely interested people, she found her eye constantly flicking towards the door, looking for Ben and Toby. She had sent Toby a personal invitation, adding in pink pen ‘promise you’ll come’. She had had a sweet note back from him promising that he would.

Her expensive dress, which was causing a minor sensation among her friends who were more used to seeing her in jeans, had been for Ben’s benefit. In her private heart she knew that. As was the make-up, the hair styling, in fact, everything that wasn’t directly concerned with the gallery. If she hadn’t been hoping to prove to him that she too could be attractive and glamorous, she would never have let Molly talk her into any of it. She wanted Ben to see her at her shining best and wonder why on earth he had let her get away. It was petty, childish and about as unfeminist as it was possible to be, but it was human and she couldn’t help herself.

It seemed several lifetimes had passed spent talking, introducing Rory, smiling and having her photograph
taken, before at last she saw Ben’s tall figure appear in the doorway.

Toby wasn’t with him, but two thin, glamorous women were. One was Veronica, wearing a twist of fuchsia-coloured silk and a diamond choker; the other was a much younger woman. Ben was holding the younger woman’s elbow in a very protective way, probably guarding her from Veronica.

Thea’s simple black silk sheath, which had seemed so expensively perfect, felt far too hot. How on earth should she greet Veronica? As if they were old friends? And did she still believe that she’d kidnapped Toby? She suddenly felt in need of a bit of protection herself. She looked wildly around and spotted Rory. For the moment he was unattached, probably looking for a drink. ‘Hold my hand, Rory, quickly, please,’ she whispered urgently.

Without asking for an explanation, Rory obligingly put his arm round her and rested his hand on her bottom. ‘Will this do?’

‘Perfect. Veronica’s just come in, with Ben.’

‘Veronica! Oh, my God! She’ll be out for my blood – and that’s only the mentionable part she’ll be after.’

‘We’ll just both be very cool and very polite. Use your charm, but subtly. For God’s sake, Rory, if you can’t charm the pants off a woman like Veronica you’re not the man I thought you were!’

‘I never managed to charm the pants off you.’

‘Oh, stop being silly and let’s go for it. We’ll go up to her and Ben, and say hello like we really want to see them. Come on.’

She didn’t actually push through the crowds to get to them, but she did manoeuvre herself and Rory so
Ben and his party would notice them quite soon.

Ben spoke first. ‘Hello, Thea. You’re looking very … thin.’

She decided against kissing him. She had kissed everyone else in the room, man, woman or child, but she couldn’t kiss Ben like that.

‘Oh, Ben, hi,’ she said, ‘and Veronica! How kind of you to come. I’ve been hearing how influential you are and I’m so grateful you’ve slogged all the way out here to see the show.’ She squeezed Rory’s hand to make him say something.

‘Veronica!’ He released Thea and embraced Veronica for long enough to make sure someone got a picture. ‘Will you ever forgive me? You do all that for my career and I ship out at the last moment.’ He looked down into her eyes in a way that Thea recognised. If Veronica had a speck of oestrogen in her body she’d have to respond. ‘Come with me to find some champagne. I want to drink it from your slipper.’

‘Silly boy!’ Veronica allowed herself to be lead away, aware of the envious glances of several other women. ‘I’m wearing sandals.’

Somehow Ben was still there, silently demanding attention. Now Veronica was out of the way, Thea felt free to ask him a question. ‘Where’s Toby? He promised to come to my show.’

‘He wanted to, very much. But private views aren’t really the place for children, are they?’ said Ben’s companion. ‘He’d be dreadfully bored.’

Thea was hurt on Toby’s behalf. He’d want to be here for her sake, if not for the sake of ‘Art’.

‘He can always come and see it another time,’ said Ben. ‘Oh, sorry, I haven’t introduced you. This is
Poppy Jacks. Thea Orville, the director and creator of the gallery.’

Thea waited in vain to be told that Poppy Jacks was terribly important in the art world, which would also tell her that Ben had only brought her to be useful, not because he had anything to do with her.