by Clare Chase
Mel’s supporters seemed to be everywhere. For a moment I imagined Monica and Alicia teaming up to fight her corner. The idea was quite frightening.
‘Anyway,’ Sinem went on, ‘she doesn’t really have much say in how things are run; it’s Seb who’s ultimately in charge of the purse strings, Monica just nit-picks over the details. All the same he likes to keep her on side. We suspect she reports back to Sir Anthony, and there’s no doubt we need to be on good terms with him. He could probably squeeze a higher rent out of us if he chose.’
Just before I was due to leave, Seb popped in.
‘Have you got five minutes, before you head off?’
I followed him and, once we’d reached his office, he closed the door in that careful, deliberate way that tells you a person’s about to tackle something delicate.
‘How’s it been today?’ he asked.
‘Fine,’ I said, knowing this was just small talk.
‘Good.’ He motioned for me to take a seat. His venetian blinds were half open and, as I sank into a chair, I turned my head and saw Radley watching us. She looked away quickly.
‘Look, Anna,’ Seb said, ‘I’ve just had a call come in that’s put the final jigsaw piece into the puzzle.’
I raised my eyebrows.
‘I know exactly who Darrick Farron is now,’ he said, letting out a sigh. ‘In many ways it’s good news. I mean, he’s not an undercover reporter and it does look as though he’s given you his correct name this time.’
I had a trembling feeling in my stomach as I waited to hear what he had to say. ‘What is the truth then?’ I asked.
‘It turns out he’s involved in undercover art investigations.’
‘He works for the police? Or customs or something?’
‘Nothing quite as traditional as that,’ Seb said. ‘He’s a freelance. A gallery might hire him, or a rich art buyer trying to track down a particular work, or in some cases a government.’
I felt relief wash over me and took a deep breath. ‘I’m glad. I thought you were going to say he was a mass murderer at the very least.’
Seb’s mouth tightened. ‘Just because he’s an investigator doesn’t mean he operates inside the law. He might be working on a legit job – going after an artwork that’s been stolen, or someone who’s avoided paying vast sums in tax – but there’s plenty to suggest he’s not picky about the work he takes on. And he’s known for using some brutal methods to achieve his ends. What he does, he does very quietly and privately. He covers his tracks. It’s no wonder we didn’t find him on the internet.’ He leant across the desk, much as he had done at the table in the restaurant, and took my hand for a moment. ‘You like him, don’t you?’ he said.
I tried to look him in the eye, but didn’t manage it.
‘I know you do, Anna, and I’m sorry, but I’m worried for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.’ He picked a piece of paper from his in tray. ‘This is a printout of the email I got this afternoon,’ he said, ‘detailing all the people who’ve hired this guy. Some of them are the sort who’d stop at nothing, and he’ll be abiding by exactly the same principles as they do, believe me.’
I looked away for a moment and caught Radley watching us again. Once more she averted her gaze as soon as it met mine.
I couldn’t work out what to say to Seb. He made me feel cross and trapped, and in spite of what he claimed to know about Darrick, every part of me resisted his message.
‘You’re thinking you can stay involved with him without getting embroiled, aren’t you?’ said Seb. He didn’t sound cross, only sad and sympathetic. ‘The trouble is, that kind of work tends to follow you around. You don’t just do it nine to five. When you’re with him, the next person you meet might be one who’d rather he was dead. Is that how you want to live?’
When I didn’t say anything he went on, ‘I’m guessing he hasn’t been around much?’
I shook my head.
‘The people who pay him will always come first, Anna. I don’t want you to have to go through all that; you’re too precious to me. The heartache might be bad now, if you break it off, but it’ll be worse if you get more deeply involved and have to finish it later.’ He sat back in his chair again. ‘There’s one more thing too,’ he said. ‘It’s a hundred times less important but I’ve got to mention it.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, it’s an issue for the gallery too.’
I looked up at him.
‘In one way, as I was saying, I was quite relieved when I found out who he was. I mean, we deal with the artists themselves, face to face. There’s no question of fraud, or stolen works or anything that he’d be interested in.’
I waited for him to spit it out.
‘But it does mean he was after one of my guests. Now, I can’t be responsible for what they get up to. It may be that some of them have dabbled in something criminal at one stage or another, and if so I’d naturally take a very dim view of that. But at the same time, your involvement really would cause complications.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Can you imagine how it would look if he caught up with one of my guests now, and you were still seeing him? I can visualise the headlines: “Gallery’s communications director tips off hired gun”.’
I sat up straight. ‘Bad for business, you’re saying?’
He responded to the coldness in my voice: ‘Don’t think I wouldn’t want criminal dealings unmasked, Anna,’ he said. ‘Don’t think that for a moment. But if my clientele think they’re going to be under scrutiny whenever they come to me, and that I’m aligning myself with the sort of gangland art collectors Farron works for, I think they might be put off. And, in all honesty, I can’t say I’d blame them.’
I took the stairs down, rather than the lift, my footsteps echoing on the concrete treads. Seb hadn’t spelled it out, but then he hadn’t needed to. If I wanted to stay at the gallery, it was time to give up on Darrick Farron. Always supposing I got the chance. I had a feeling he’d given up on me already.
Chapter Twenty
By the time I got home I’d been having hypothetical arguments about what to do if Darrick called for well over an hour and, given that they were leading nowhere, I really wanted to close my mind to the whole thing. I wished it was that easy to push the thoughts away, but they kept sneaking in again each time I tried to focus on anything else.
I’d dismissed all the hints about Darrick being tantamount to some kind of gangster almost immediately. The more I thought about it, the more I reckoned Seb was probably exaggerating to convince me I had to dump him, and save any possible threat to his business. This made me furious that he should back me into a corner with his ultimatum.
Then again, if Darrick didn’t call anyway, which in all likelihood he wouldn’t, there was no choice to make. But I still didn’t like the feeling of being coerced.
Having said that (the argument in my head had continued, as we rattled between tube stops), could I really blame Seb? I could see what he meant. It might be that clients guilty of very minor misdemeanours would still run scared if the gallery became associated with someone like Darrick.
The one thing that made me feel slightly better was that he hadn’t exactly lied to me a second time around, though he’d certainly been economical with the truth. Then again who, in that sort of job, would want to go into details with a virtual stranger?
And so the arguments began all over again as I reached Hampstead and walked out into the evening air, my shoulders hunched against the cold.
Back at Alicia’s, I could tell that Sally’s day hadn’t gone smoothly either. She stomped up the stairs from the basement when she heard me come in and I could smell that she’d been on the bottle.
‘Jeremy Drinkwater is a bloody bastard!’ she said, leaning against the hall wall.
‘Oh dear,’ I said, moving towards her. I was keen to get her back downstairs again before Alicia joined us.
‘Bloody bastard!’ said Sally at a more extreme volu
me.
I was too late. Alicia appeared in the hall, her eyes popping. She looked very dolled up: lots of go-get-’em make-up and some impressive leather boots, along with an impeccable mini-skirt-and-jacket suit.
‘What do you think you’re doing, Sally?’ she said. ‘Quieten down at once! I’ve got a dinner guest!’
On the plus side, Sally received this admonishment with gales of laughter, which echoed through the hall and stairwell as Alicia stalked back into her dining room again. I wondered who the mysterious visitor might be. It was actually very rare for her to entertain when it wasn’t for work.
‘She’s such a big bossy boots,’ Sally said loudly.
‘Come on,’ I said, shoving her so hard I almost sent her careering down the stairs. ‘Back to your place so you can tell me all about it.’
‘Have a drink,’ Sally said, once we’d closed the door. I could see she’d made serious inroads into a bottle of gin.
I poured myself a tiny measure (my stomach felt empty and I knew it would go to my head), topped it up generously with tonic, and sat down.
Sally sloshed some more into her tumbler – without tonic – and did the same.
‘So what happened?’ I asked, taking a sip.
‘Spent the whole day dealing with some particularly horrible feet, then finally went off duty, only to get a message from that little shit on my mobile.’
‘And?’
‘And it seems he forgot, on Saturday night, that he actually has a long-term girlfriend called Gloria.’ She tutted. ‘I mean, Gloria! Can you believe it? Anyway, amazingly, he managed to carry on forgetting, even once he’d sobered up, right until I left on Sunday evening. Then it seems she got back at lunchtime today, and it jogged his memory, so it’s all off.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
Sally looked at me, her eyes squinting slightly, and patted my hand. ‘It’s all right,’ she said comfortingly. ‘It isn’t really your fault.’
‘What about Greg?’ I asked. ‘I mean, I thought you two had a good thing going together, and he sounded really nice from what you said. You showed me his photograph that time, remember? He’s very good-looking.’
‘Lovely boy,’ Sally said. ‘Dear sweet boy, but just a boy, Anna. Just a boy …’
She let her sentence trail off. At that moment there was a knock at the door.
It was Alicia. She glanced at Sally for a second and then jerked her eyes away, letting out a noise which expressed deep disgust. She turned to me. ‘I thought you must be down here, Anna. There’s someone I want you to meet. Come on up to my dining room.’
Sally looked at me pitifully. ‘Don’t leave me, Anna,’ she said. ‘I really need to talk to someone.’
‘Don’t be an idiot, Sally,’ Alicia said. ‘You’re in no fit state to communicate with anyone at the moment. You ought to be sleeping it off.’
I turned to Sally. ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll come straight back down as soon as I’ve been to say hello.’
‘Promise?’
I nodded, and got up to go with Alicia. Loyalty to Sally would certainly bring me back to her again, but if my cousin was about to unveil a new love interest, I couldn’t bring myself to miss it.
Chapter Twenty-One
We went upstairs – I was still in my coat – and Alicia ushered me through to her dining room, where she and her companion looked to be between courses.
‘This,’ said Alicia, ‘is Lester Frayn.’ She took in my blank expression in a fraction of a second and rolled her eyes as she explained, ‘He’s a top theatrical agent, based in New York. He discovered people like Faye Banks and David Wentworth-Tait.’
Okay, them I had heard of.
‘He was very interested to hear that you’re a friend of Jez Ellis,’ Alicia went on.
‘Don’t worry,’ the man called Lester said, ‘I know he already has an excellent agent of his own. I was just keen to ask you to pass on my compliments to him. I guess you could say I’m a big fan of his. He’s got a great career coming up.’
He had a very pleasant American accent, and one of the most disarmingly friendly smiles I’d seen in a long while. Alicia, who had been looking slightly anxious, seemed to calm down a bit. I heard her let out a breath that sounded as though it had been under starter’s orders for some time. She pulled back a chair for me. ‘Sit down and join us for a moment, Anna,’ she said. ‘Glass of champagne?’
I was conscious of the empty stomach and the gin, but it seemed rude to refuse, so I slipped off my coat and made myself comfortable. As she poured, it struck me as odd that they wanted me to come in and gatecrash their party.
I think Lester might have sensed this. He turned towards me and said, ‘We’ve just had the most wonderful appetiser. Alicia sure is a number one cook. We were going to wait a moment before our next course, so we can appreciate it properly.’
Which still didn’t quite explain my presence.
‘I wanted to get you up here for another reason, Anna,’ Alicia said suddenly. ‘I knew you’d be furious with me if I didn’t introduce you to Lester, since he’d be the perfect person for you to interview next. I explained to him how you were building up your freelance career.’
This was actually really kind of her. I was sure Lester would make an interesting interviewee. I would need to do lots of swotting up, since his work wasn’t really my field, but it sounded like a great opportunity. Lester was busy making self-deprecating remarks and explaining how the publicity would help him too.
‘It was Alicia’s suggestion,’ he said. ‘You mustn’t be bounced into it, Anna, if it doesn’t suit.’
‘I think it would be great,’ I said, ‘if you really don’t mind. I’d be delighted.’
Lester beamed. ‘I think it’d be a blast.’ This made me rather anxious. I hoped I could make the interview as fun as he seemed to think it might be, without having to resort to questions about Mary Poppins again.
‘You’ll have to make it snappy, though, when it comes to arranging something,’ Alicia said, casting a sharp glance at me. ‘Lester flies back to the States the day after tomorrow, and he’s already booked in at a big event tomorrow evening.’
I looked at her and I could see the challenge in her eyes. Scheming cow! She was doing this deliberately. She knew how hard it would be for me to get time off during the day. I’d claimed that Seb was going to be flexible, and now she was putting him – and me – to the test.
‘Say,’ Lester said, picking up on my dismay with remarkable sensitivity. ‘Looks like that might be inconvenient for you, Anna. We can always do something by email perhaps.’
‘But face-to-face is so much more authentic, isn’t it, Anna?’ Alicia said. ‘And you wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity like this. Surely you’d be able to slip into town for an hour or so? Lester’s staying at the Savoy. Why don’t you aim for three o’clock?’
Lester was looking rather pink. ‘Just you give me a call tomorrow if you can’t make it after all, Anna,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back at the hotel getting ready by that time anyway, so if you have to cancel you’ve no cause to worry about it. Is that understood?’
I finished my wine and left them to their main course. As I walked back down to the basement, I hoped Alicia would get indigestion.
I had expected that Sally might be out cold by the time I went back to her, but amazingly she was still in a sitting position and actually looked relatively cheerful.
‘It’s all right,’ she said to me, getting up unsteadily. ‘I’ve decided now, he was just a bastard.’
‘Yes, so you said. Look, Sally, I’ve got to eat something. I’m so hungry. It would do you good too.’
I ended up calling for a delivery pizza because she wanted to come with me to the shared kitchen, and I dreaded her letting off more expletives in Lester’s hearing, however much I wanted to pay Alicia back.
Over the food, Sally wanted to know about my day. I told her about meeting the gallery crowd, and what Seb had said about Darric
k. I didn’t really expect her to take it in, in her condition, but the pizza seemed to be helping sober her up, at least enough to engage on the subject. Meanwhile I had begun to join in the drinking, having opened a bottle of red, so we met somewhere in the middle on the sobriety scale.
‘See, what it comes down to, is this,’ Sally said. ‘How bad are the people that Darrick works for?’
I watched as pepperoni and mozzarella slid precariously towards the edge of the droopy slice of pizza she was holding.
‘If they’re goodies,’ she said, ‘then he’s a goody.’
‘But if they’re baddies,’ I added, taking another large swig of red wine, ‘then he’s dodgy.’
Sally pointed a finger at me and the pepperoni fell on to her lap. ‘Exactly.’
‘The trouble is,’ I said, ‘how can I tell?’
‘Good point,’ Sally said. ‘What you need to do …’ She put her pizza down on her bedside table. ‘… is to ask him.’
‘Do you think he’d tell the truth?’
Sally frowned. ‘Yes,’ she said eventually, with no further explanation.
I felt too sleepy to ask her why she was so convinced. ‘Do you think you should have a plate?’ I asked. ‘For your pizza, I mean?’
Sally peered at the abandoned slice. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘Because it’s on the table, you see. What you need to do,’ she said again, ‘is to see him, so you can find out the truth.’
‘The trouble is, Seb doesn’t want me to,’ I said. ‘To him it’s a case of don’t see Darrick if I want to keep my job.’
Sally refilled my glass, spilling red wine onto the floor. She rubbed at it with a stockinged foot and was silent for a while, pondering the problem. At last she looked up brightly and said, ‘S’all right. What you need to do, is to not tell him.’
Upstairs the matter seemed simple. Sally was right: I had to find out more. And anyway, Seb wasn’t in charge of my life. I noticed that the walls of my room moved slightly as I sat down on my bed to compose a text to Darrick.
