“Sam, I need to go outside. Do you mind?”
Sam looked startled. However, when she realized Mark was not joking, she nodded. She addressed her brother. “Evan, I agree. Go ahead. Mark and I need to go outside.”
Mark already was leading the way to the front door of the gallery, hopeful that Sam was following. He stopped just outside and waited. Sam caught up to him, a worried expression on her face. She placed her hand on his arm and looked up, into his eyes.
“What is it? Are you all right?”
“I’m sorry, Sam. I just had to get out, into the fresh air. Can we walk?”
They didn’t have a chance to move, before a young woman rushed out of the gallery, almost stumbling on the single step. She was possibly eighteen, as tall as Sam, and her hair was strawberry blonde. She headed straight for Mark. Before he could do anything, the young woman reached up and gave him a hug and a kiss. It lasted longer than a token, polite greeting.
“I wanted to thank you,” she said, holding on to Mark.
Sam coughed. The young woman looked at Sam and colored slightly.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I owe a huge debt to—.” She stopped, growing redder.
“Mark,” said Sam.
“Yes, to Mark.”
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” asked Mark, trying to establish that he was not whoever the young woman thought he was.
“No, but you rescued me,” said the young woman. “I apologize—I didn’t think. My name is Paula.”
Mark stepped back and shook her hand. “You know my name, now. This is Sam,” he said, very formally. The two women did not shake hands.
“OK,” said Sam. “Can someone tell me what this is all about?”
They were joined by Evan, Katrina and an older man before Mark or Paula could speak, not that Mark was able to give voice to an answer. “Hello,” said the older man. “My name’s Julian, Julian Kelly. You must be Mark, and you must be Sam.” He held Sam’s hand for a moment. “I trust my daughter has not been too impetuous?”
Sam swallowed. She had recognized the man’s name. “The Julian Kelly?” she asked, almost awed.
“Indeed.” He bowed in acknowledgement. He turned to Mark. “I would appreciate some of your time, Mark. I have heard a strange story from my daughter, contradicting an earlier version she provided. I’d like to discover the truth. You may be able to help me.”
Everyone stared at Mark and he almost turned away from the intent expressions. “Sir, I’m sorry—but I don’t know your daughter, nor do I recognize your name.”
“Well, rather than stand here in the middle of the street for this debate—and I understand why you would respond that way—I suggest you all come with me, to my place. It’s not very far. I can offer some excellent wine, perhaps another glass of champagne, and some hors d’oeuvres, if my housekeeper lives up to her reputation. Shall we?” He led the way, obviously accustomed to people agreeing to his requests.
Sam looked at Mark, shrugged, and took his arm. Paula took his other arm. Two sets of bright red fingernails made a statement; but Mark was unsure of the message. Mark, with his two firmly attached ladies, followed Evan and Katrina, who had unhesitatingly accompanied Julian and were in deep discussion, the topic apparently centered on the Polish artist and her works.
Table of Contents
By John Hindmarsh
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Newsletter
Reviews
About John
MARK TWO
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Mark One Page 25
