Jenny's War (46 page)

‘Well, I know. I’m petrified. It’s almost more important than the exams. It could launch our careers.’

The exhibition was set to run for a month and a grand opening night was fixed for the week after the students had finished their exams.

‘It’ll give everyone time to finish any work they want to exhibit,’ declared the ever-thoughtful Felix. ‘And put the thought of exams behind them for a while.’

It was a frantic week but everyone loved the excitement and the tension. Those who had no work to finish turned up at the gallery every day to help or just to be a part of it. Every student in Jenny’s year was represented, each allowed to show a maximum number of three works of art in whatever medium they chose.

As the evening of the grand opening drew closer, Jenny’s nerves got worse. ‘Oh Matt, I feel sick.’

‘What on earth have you got to be nervous about?’ he laughed. ‘The whole thing’s being put on by your mentor and your family’s coming to London to support you. What more could anybody want?’

She grinned ruefully at him, realizing just how very lucky she was to have such wonderful support. Even Georgie was coming, though she did wish that he wasn’t bringing Cassandra too.

They arrived and booked into a hotel the day before the grand opening.

‘And this afternoon,’ Charlotte said firmly when Jenny joined them for lunch, ‘you and I are going shopping. You must have a lovely new dress for tomorrow night.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t let you—’

Miles chuckled and touched her hand. ‘Don’t spoil Charlotte’s fun. She doesn’t get the chance very often to go shopping in Knightsbridge.’

‘And you must have your hair done too.’ Across the table Charlotte and Jenny exchanged a fond glance; they were both remembering another time when Jenny’s blond curls had caused such a problem.

‘Me too,’ Louisa piped up. ‘Can I have my hair done in a salon, Mummy?’ It was the first time she’d come to London and the young girl was wide eyed with wonder.

‘I can show you all the very best shops,’ Cassandra offered. ‘And I know a very chic hairdresser. He’s quite famous.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’ Charlotte smiled. ‘We’ll be glad of your help.’

So the four ‘girls’ set out for an afternoon of shopping and pampering. If only, Jenny couldn’t help wishing, Cassandra wasn’t there. But, in fact, the girl was a great help. She knew the best stores, the best salons and even the best restaurants.

‘We couldn’t have done without you,’ Charlotte said generously, when they arrived back at the hotel laden with parcels.

‘I enjoyed it,’ Cassandra said and sounded for once as if she meant it, but then she spoilt it by adding, ‘Nice for you to see how the other half live for once.’ And then she flounced away to her own room to try on the new gown she’d bought for the occasion.

‘Who does she think she is?’ Jenny stormed.

‘Don’t let her worry you, darling, tomorrow tonight is
your
moment.’ Charlotte put her arms around Jenny and held her close. ‘We’re all so proud of you.’

Jenny hugged her in return. ‘I don’t know how to thank you all. Just think what my life would have been like if I hadn’t met you.’

‘And I dread to think what mine would have been like if Miles hadn’t brought his family to live in Ravens-fleet all those years ago. I’d have been an old spinster still living with my irascible old father, I’ve no doubt. So, we’ve both been lucky.’ She held Jenny away from her and traced the line of the girl’s cheek with a gentle finger as she said huskily, ‘I just hope that one day you’ll find the happiness you deserve with – with someone who’ll love you.’

Tears sprang to Jenny’s eyes, but she smiled through them. ‘You know there’s only one person for me, but he doesn’t seem to notice me. Not in that way, does he?’

‘Well, maybe that’ll alter. Tomorrow night, you, my dear girl, are going to be the belle of the ball, or rather the exhibition.’

‘Not while the beautiful Cassandra’s there.’

‘Oh, you just wait and see.’

When they arrived at the gallery the following evening, Jenny stepped inside to be greeted by Felix, his arms spread wide. ‘My dear girl, you look stunning.’

Jenny and Charlotte exchanged a smile. They had spent most of the afternoon getting ready. Charlotte had recreated the sophisticated style the hairdresser had suggested, piling her hair on top of her head with soft tendrils framing her face. Then she had shown Jenny how to apply make-up and now, in the midnight-blue gown they had bought, Jenny did indeed look amazing. And she’d been thrilled to see Cassandra’s mouth twist with jealousy as Georgie had kissed Jenny’s hand with a gallant gesture when they’d gathered in the foyer of the hotel to await the taxi.

And now she was being whisked away by her friends into the meˆle´e of students and their families milling around the gallery trying to search out which paintings belonged to which artist.

When everyone had arrived, Felix stood on a dais at one end of the long room and clapped his hands. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention for just a moment, please. Welcome to the Felix Kerr Gallery. I hope you have a wonderful evening, but before I let you loose, there are just one or two things I’d like to say. Not only members of the students’ families are with us tonight, but also tutors from the art school and members of the press, together with some of my friends and colleagues from the art world. This is a chance for all of us to see the artists of tomorrow. All the paintings are, of course, for sale but they are being shown anonymously. You’ll see that the names on the drawings and paintings have been covered up and this is deliberate because I want you to buy a picture you like and not because it is the work of your offspring.’

A murmur rang amongst his listeners, but Felix raised his voice. ‘I realize you must think that a little unfair, but not all the students have family here and yet they deserve to have an equal chance of selling their work. The students’ – he cast a glance of mock severity at his prote´ge´s clustered together in one corner of the room – ‘have all been issued with dire threats if they give so much as a hint to any of you as to which is their work. So, now, please wander around and most of all – enjoy yourselves.’ His words were greeted with polite applause. ‘Oh, and just one more thing. I have been in conversation with the school and, if tonight is successful, we hope to make this an annual event and because of this I am inaugurating a Student of the Year Award. The recipient has been chosen by their tutors. Not by me, I hasten to add. Even I don’t know at this moment who has won. The prize will be a trophy and five hundred pounds to help further their studies.’

Now the applause was more enthusiastic and as Felix stepped down, chatter broke out throughout the room. Jenny threaded her way through the crowd dragging Matthew in her wake.

‘This is Matthew Baxter. Matt, this is Mr and Mrs Thornton, Louisa, Georgie and Cassandra.’ She hesitated a fraction before adding, grudgingly, ‘Georgie’s girlfriend.’

‘Pleased to meet you all.’ Matthew smiled. ‘Can I get you anything to drink?’ Waiters were now moving amongst the throng, carrying trays of canape´s and glasses of champagne. As Jenny and Matthew went off to acquire drinks for the party, the rest of them wandered around the room, studying each picture carefully.

‘Felix is a crafty old so-and-so,’ Miles murmured. ‘But I can see his point about not divulging who the artist is. It does give them all a fairer chance, but I think this one rather gives the game away, don’t you, Charlotte?’ They’d come to the far end of the room where a small portrait hung. ‘I rather think we know who painted this one, don’t we?’

‘Oh my,’ Georgie said, staring at the oil painting. ‘That’s me.’

Charlotte and Miles exchanged a glance. They could see the love that had gone into every stroke of the brush.

‘That’s amazing.’ Georgie was still gazing at the picture.

‘Isn’t it just,’ Cassandra murmured, her eyes narrowing. ‘However long did you have to sit for her to do that?’

‘I didn’t,’ Georgie said. Jenny had painted the portrait from memory and yet it was perfect, every bit as good as if he’d sat in front of her for hours.

Jenny, arriving back with a plate of canape´s and drinks, felt the colour flooding her face. ‘He – Felix wasn’t supposed to put that one in the exhibition. I told him it would give the game away, but he insisted. I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry?’ Georgie turned to grin at her. ‘Don’t be sorry. It’s great. You’ve made me look even more handsome than I already am.’ As ever, Georgie had diffused an awkward moment and turned it into laughter. His grin faded as he held Jenny’s gaze. ‘It’s magnificent,’ he said quietly, ‘but I’m going to break Felix’s rule and buy it.’

‘You – don’t have to – ’

‘I know, but I want to,’ he said softly, his gaze never leaving her face. ‘I’ll treasure it always.’

‘Come along, darling,’ Cassandra said, hooking her arm through his. ‘We mustn’t let Jenny hog the limelight all evening.’

As she pulled him away, Georgie cast a rueful smile over his shoulder before he disappeared into the crowd.

‘Am I mistaken,’ Miles whispered softly to Charlotte, ‘or do I detect the green-eyed monster rearing its ugly head.’

‘Mm,’ Charlotte murmured. ‘Let’s hope so.’

The evening was a huge success and when Felix announced the winner of the first Student of the Year Award – Jennifer Mercer – the rafters rang with the generous applause from her fellow students. Matthew lifted her off her feet and swung her round. ‘No one deserves it more than you, Jenny.’

‘It’s nepotism,’ Cassandra said loudly to anyone around her who cared to listen. ‘We all know she’s Felix’s prote´ge´ and I bet the college have given it to her because they want to keep on his good side.’

‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong, young lady,’ Felix countered, coming up behind them at that moment. ‘It was done completely anonymously. Each student submitted one work of art to be judged and it wasn’t until the decision had been made that the name was revealed. Rather like tonight.’

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. ‘You can hardly call her painting of Georgie “anonymous”. It’s obvious.’

But Felix only beamed. ‘Only to the family. No one else here knows who Georgie is. Besides,’ he added, putting his head on one side like a naughty schoolboy who’s been caught out. ‘I do
own
the gallery. And on that occasion, I even pulled rank on the artist herself. She said exactly the same as you and didn’t want it in the exhibition, but it’s the finest example of portraiture you’ll see in a long time, so – in it went. And now, if you’ll excuse me, some of my guests are leaving.’

As he moved away, all a red-faced Cassandra could say was, ‘Well, really!’ And her temper was not improved when she sought out Georgie to find him standing once more in front of the portrait of himself, gazing at it with a thoughtful expression on his face.

It was just before the end of term. Exams were over and the exhibition had been a huge success and the students had sold at least one painting each, though Jenny had the sneaky feeling that Felix had kindly bought any that had been left so that no student felt left out. There was a suspicious new stack of paintings against the wall in the storeroom behind the gallery.

Jenny was packing ready for the journey home at the end of the week when the telephone in Felix’s apartment rang. Felix was out so it was Jenny who answered the call, to hear Charlotte’s worried voice at the other end of the line.

‘Oh Jen,’ she said at once. ‘It’s Georgie. He’s – he’s had a crash in his new plane.’

Jenny’s heart felt as if it stopped and then began to thump painfully. She felt cold and her legs gave way. She sank to the floor, still clutching the receiver in her hand, her fingers white.

‘He’s – he’s not – ’

‘No, no, but he’s badly hurt. His wounded leg is – is smashed so badly, they’re – ’ Charlotte dissolved into tears – ‘they’re talking about amputating it.’

Jenny swallowed hard but her voice trembled as she said bravely, ‘But if it’s to save his life – ’

‘Yes, yes, of course. How sensible you are, Jen.’

‘I’m coming home. I won’t wait till the end of the week. I’ll ring the college now. They’ll understand.’ Jenny found herself taking charge, making quick decisions. ‘I’ll be with you by tonight.’

They talked a little while longer. Miles, it seemed, was in a state of shock, convinced he was going to lose another son.

‘He’ll be fine. He’s strong and he’s everything to live for.’ Jenny bit her lip before adding with a generosity she hadn’t known she possessed, ‘Have you sent for Cassandra?’

‘Not yet. I rang you first. I’m sorry, I must go. Miles wants to go back to the hospital.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Lynthorpe at the moment, but if they do decide to operate, he’ll have to go to a bigger one.’

‘Where?’

‘Miles is going to talk to the doctors. He wants to make sure Georgie has the very best treatment available wherever it is.’ Charlotte’s voice broke. ‘But come home as soon as you can, darling. We need you.’

When Jenny told Felix, he offered, ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

‘I’ll be fine once I get there, unless, of course, you want to come.’ She knew how fond Felix was of all the family and how worried he’d be.

‘I would, only I’ve so much on here, but if I can help in any way, you promise you’ll let me know and I’ll drop everything and come at once.’

‘I’ll ring you every day, Felix.’

He took her to the station and saw her on to the train, hugging her tightly and reminding her, ‘Don’t forget to ring. Every day.’

The journey seemed interminable; far longer even than when she’d travelled the same route as an evacuee child. But, at last, the train drew into Ravensfleet and Jenny dragged her trunk and her suitcase on to the platform.

‘At last.’ She heard Miles’s voice behind her, and she turned to see him coming towards her with his arms spread wide.

‘How is he?’

‘Holding on.’

‘Are they going to operate?’

‘Yes. The leg’s so badly damaged that without an amputation he’ll – he’ll – oh Jen.’ Miles hugged her to him. ‘Thank goodness you’ve come home. We need your strength and your faith.’ He drew back, fished in his pocket, pulled out a white handkerchief and blew his nose hard. ‘Come on, let’s get you home. Charlotte and Ben are waiting for us.’