by Clare Chase
Later, as I lay there in the dark, my mind swam with various thoughts of the day. I imagined Darrick huddled in conversation with moustachioed gangsters and thought it was very funny.
At some point between waking and sleeping Radley popped into my head. I wondered again about why she’d seemed to enjoy telling me off so much, that day in her office. It was as though she’d got some extra reason to dislike me.
And then I thought of Seb, smiling at her when she was civil to me in the pub.
My first thought on waking was the fact that my head hurt. This was swiftly followed by a vague feeling that I’d considered texting Darrick the night before. I looked at my phone and found that it had been more than just a thought.
I’d written: ‘Want 2 c u. Need 2 ask about gangsters. Hope u r a goodie. A xxx.’
Oh God. And he hadn’t texted back. No surprises there.
Chapter Twenty-Two
At the gallery, I wondered what to do about Lester. The fact was, Alicia was right: a face-to-face interview would be much better. I’d be able to put across the way he looked and his surroundings. The Savoy would add a bit of glamour and emphasise his jet-set lifestyle. Besides, he’d sounded quite keen on the idea and he seemed like a really nice man. I liked the thought of being able to get to know him better. And it would certainly be a great interview to add to my portfolio.
On the other hand, I knew it would take me much longer than an hour by the time I’d travelled over there and back, and it was only my second day …
I glanced at my watch. It was already half-past ten and the later I left bringing it up, the worse it would get. If I was going to go through with bunking off, I needed to address the issue now.
Elsie sat nearby, huffing and puffing over some website updates. Sinem was zinging through some flyers for an exhibition happening in March. She really might start to feel she should have been promoted in my stead if I swanned off for the afternoon. I spent ten more minutes agonising, the hands on the wall clock seeming to move at double speed.
At that point I went and knocked on Seb’s door. I think I must have looked so anxious by the time I opened my mouth that he thought there was something terribly wrong. When I explained what I wanted, he seemed relieved.
‘It’s no problem,’ he said. ‘No problem at all. If you’ve got anything desperate that needs doing, maybe you could finish it off afterwards?’
‘Of course.’ I should never have doubted he’d be supportive. I wondered why I had worried.
‘Do take stuff home if it’s more convenient than coming back here.’
‘I know it sounds silly, Seb, but I think it might be best if I’m seen to be at the gallery.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘Sinem’s very capable. If I want her loyalty, I need to make sure she knows I’m committed and actually adding something to the team, not just freeloading. And there’s Elsie to consider too …’
Seb laughed. ‘Don’t take any notice of what she thinks,’ he said. ‘With the best will in the world, that really would be a waste of time. I bow to your judgement on Sinem though. She’s a good worker and I’m glad you’re keen to keep her happy. Of course, you could just tell her you’re going off to a meeting.’
I gave him a look.
‘Up to you,’ he said, shrugging. He got up and rubbed my arm in a friendly way. ‘I’m pleased to see you’re considering these things. Shows you’re thinking long term.’
I felt a twist of anxiety in my stomach.
‘I did hope I hadn’t put you off yesterday with my worries over Darrick Farron,’ he added.
I thought of the text and hoped I wasn’t blushing.
After leaving his office I went along to the ladies’ and when I came back out again I could see Seb was in Radley’s office. I really needed to head in the opposite direction, but I paused for a moment. I had a nasty feeling he was telling her about my afternoon appointment.
Radley was standing up, one hand on her hip leaning towards Seb. She didn’t look pleased. His stance was just as aggressive; I hoped he was backing me up.
The interview with Lester went well. I’d barely had the chance to do any background reading – just some web browsing on my phone at breakfast that morning – but he made me feel totally at ease and was kindness itself when it came to filling in my vast areas of ignorance.
I wondered how he’d got to be where he was with such a controlled ego. He insisted on us having tea and scones together too, and in the end I thought, what the hell.
‘When will you be back in England again?’ I asked, putting down my plate. His cheeks went slightly rosy.
‘As a matter of fact, I may come over on a flying visit as early as January,’ he said. ‘Alicia and I have been having a little talk about that.’
It seemed an unlikely pairing but maybe he was kind and patient enough to see beyond her sharpness. And, of course, given his successful career, she wouldn’t feel the need to boss him around so much or interfere with how he ran his life. If they did make a go of it I hoped he would alter Alicia’s pH a little. Something less acidic would be much more acceptable.
I was back at the gallery just before everyone else was due to leave.
‘Seb said you were going to burn the midnight oil,’ Sinem said, ‘so I’ve left you some notes here on what I’ve done so far and a couple of calls that came through. Did he explain that you have to go out down the side staircase if you leave after seven? The rest is all alarmed at that point and you’ll see the security guards knocking around.’
‘Thanks, Sinem,’ I said. ‘I presume Elsie’s already left?’
She nodded, pulling a face. ‘She went early as a matter of fact.’
‘Oh dear. Some kind of problem?’
‘Radley overheard her moaning about you going off this afternoon,’ Sinem said. ‘Well, you know how she can be. She let Elsie have it – told her how it was in your contract, and how it was good for the gallery if you were happy and stayed on. She said if Elsie was rude to you about it, her internship would be over on the spot. And then she basically let her know how far from indispensable she was.’
‘Oh dear.’
Sinem shrugged. ‘It was her own fault really. We were told you’d made that arrangement with Seb, and that it was all above board, before you even came in on the first day.’ She picked up her coat, ready to leave.
‘It wasn’t great timing, having to duck out of work so soon after I’d started.’
‘It was always going to irritate people,’ Sinem said cheerfully, over her shoulder. ‘But that’s life for you.’
At least Radley had backed me up though; Seb must have used all his powers of persuasion to get her on side.
Seb popped his head around my office door at 6.50 p.m. ‘Don’t stay just to make a point, will you?’ he said. ‘Do whatever you really have to and then get off home. Not every day will be like today. It’ll all get easier.’
‘Thanks, Seb. You’ve been so supportive. I feel bad that I’ve given you the run around already.’
‘It’s no problem.’ He paused for a moment, a smile flickering on his lips.
‘What is it?’
‘To be honest, I’m about to give you the run around back; just so you can stop feeling shifty about this afternoon of course.’
‘Very thoughtful of you,’ I said, wondering what was coming.
‘You won’t have heard of Henry Feldenstein?’
‘Actually Sinem mentioned him when we were talking about your really high spenders.’
Seb nodded approvingly. ‘He happens to be flying into Glasgow on Friday afternoon for a meeting on Saturday. I was wondering if I could persuade you to go up there and have dinner with him?’
After Lester, I felt it was the least I could do, though the idea filled me with dread. ‘Sure. What do you want us to talk about?’
Seb handed me some notes. ‘He’s interested in the Marcus Oriel exhibition and he’s worth a fortune to us if we handle him correctly.’
Which didn’t do anything to settle my nerves. ‘I’ll do my best. Maybe you could brief me some more over the next couple of days, once I’ve had the chance to read this lot?’ I held up the papers.
‘Of course. Don’t worry though. He’ll be putty in your hands. He was delighted when I told him it would be you joining him for dinner rather than me. I tend to rub him up the wrong way. And I must admit, I did mention you were a redhead.’
Seb’s asking me about Friday was clearly a formality then; it was all already signed and sealed. On top of that, I wasn’t wild about the implications of his final sentence. ‘Bloody hell, Seb!’ I said. And I would have made more of it, except we were both momentarily distracted by the sound of a text coming in on my phone.
‘I’ll leave you to see to that,’ he said, moving swiftly towards the door. He waved a hand as he left the room.
The text was from Darrick. It read: ‘If I’m a man of mystery u r female equivalent. Meet u 2morrow? 8pm yr place? Text me yr address. D.’
Suddenly I was aware that my office door had opened again.
‘Sorry,’ Seb said. ‘I forgot to say I’m out all morning tomorrow, but I should be back by two p.m. if you need anything. In fact,’ he went on, ‘let’s meet anyway – say three-thirty? – It’ll give me the chance to tell you all about Henry Feldenstein’s weak spots.’
I didn’t get back to Alicia’s until gone 9.30. I sent Elsie an email from my work account just before I left. That should show her.
Once home, I went straight to the kitchen, planning to make pasta and pesto before I went up. It seemed the fastest possible way of installing food into myself, so I could go and get some sleep. I’d been feeling rather rough all day after the session with Sally.
Alicia pottered in as though she’d just happened to be passing. ‘So I hear the interview with Lester went ahead,’ she said. ‘He called and said what a nice time he’d had.’
I longed to tell her what I thought of her low tactics, deliberately forcing me to test Seb’s promise of flexibility so soon after I’d started work. However, I needed to be adult about this. Instead of fuming at her, I could just gloat over how kind Seb had been. I was still tempted not to compliment Lester, because that would be congratulating her on her conquest, but in the end, I couldn’t resist it.
‘He’s such a nice man, Alicia,’ I said.
She flushed. ‘He is, isn’t he? I met him a few years back at an awards dinner where I was catering. We’ve kept in touch ever since, and had the odd drink. I never really thought it would come to anything more.’ She was being totally un-Alicia like. ‘Then this time around, same awards, he suddenly suggested dinner. He took me out, and so I invited him back here to reciprocate, and the next thing I knew we were making plans to see each other again.’
‘I’m so glad,’ I said. ‘Really, Alicia.’ And I was too, in spite of it all.
Though I felt a little less warm and slushy when she said, ‘So how did Sebastian react when you told him you needed the afternoon off?’ with great relish in her voice.
‘He was wonderful,’ I said.
She gave me a look.
‘No, really. It was no problem at all. I think when I first went in he thought I was going to discuss some problem I had with the work, or …’ I thought of Darrick. ‘… some other kind of hitch. But as soon as he knew what I wanted he relaxed completely and just told me to go and get on with it.’
Alicia let out a long breath. ‘I’m quite surprised, I must confess.’ At least she was honest enough to admit it.
‘I gather even Seb’s exhibitions director, Radley, who can be tricky, backed me up. They genuinely want me to be happy working there I think.’
‘Very modern of them,’ said Alicia, looking disappointed. ‘What is he up to? That’s what I wonder.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, Sebastian gets you in, pays you a very decent salary, and gives you the most amazing terms, seeming quite happy for you to duck out of your work almost as soon as you get there.’
‘It’s just good management practice,’ I said, picking up the saucepan, ready to drain my pasta. ‘It encourages staff loyalty.’ The moment the words were out of my mouth I thought of the date I’d arranged with Darrick.
‘Well it’s going a hell of a lot further than any employer I’ve ever come across,’ Alicia said. ‘You know what Sebastian’s like, Anna. He’s a very driven man; no way does he do things by accident. It’s still my bet that he’s after something more than just your work skills if he’s treating you this well.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
The following morning I felt as though someone was playing a series of erratic tunes on a stringed instrument in the pit of my stomach. I knew the strange quivery sensation was down to my approaching date with Darrick. I was really nervous about seeing him again. It wasn’t because I was anxious about what he might say regarding his job. The reasons behind my inner flutterings were rather more basic than that.
I needed to focus on work. After being out for half of the day before it was important to put my all in now, and not to get distracted.
‘Fat chance,’ said Sally, when I voiced this intention to her over breakfast. ‘Bet you don’t go for five minutes between now and this evening without thinking about him.’
I had a nasty feeling she was right. ‘I’ve got lots to do though,’ I said.
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘Seb’s got a couple of people coming in from public galleries and he’s really keen for them to take some of Shakespeare’s paintings. I’ve got to put together a package to convince them.’
‘What will you put in it?’
‘Reviews that say how innovative Shakespeare’s work is, and what a huge, world-class star he’s destined to be, that kind of thing.’
Sally smiled. ‘I think it’s really great that Seb wants to get them into public galleries – you know, so that ordinary people will be able to see them whenever they want.’
‘Hmm.’ I thought of the paintings. ‘Well, I suppose …’
‘You’re meant to stick up for him you know.’ She went to make herself another slice of toast.
‘It’s not just that I’m uncertain about the public benefit,’ I said. ‘I also think you’re being a bit idealistic about Seb’s motives.’
‘Really?’
I nodded. ‘He’s keen to get the paintings into public galleries because if people see that that sort of institution wants to collect Shakespeare’s work it’ll boost his selling power elsewhere.’ I took a swig of my coffee. ‘If Seb can tell a potential buyer that a chunk of Shakespeare’s work has been saved for the benefit of the nation, it’ll raise his status and make him even more desirable. So then he’ll sell better to private buyers.’
‘Really?’ Sally looked shocked.
I nodded. ‘And the more private buyers are interested, the more galleries will want to collect him, and so on, forming a virtuous circle. If you see it as virtuous.’
She brought her toast over to the table. ‘I’m beginning to think your Seb’s a bit of an operator.’
I laughed. ‘He’s got a business to run. I suppose you can’t really blame him. And by the way,’ I said, putting down my coffee for a moment, ‘he’s not my Seb.’
‘But he is being very decent to you, from what Alicia’s been telling me.’
‘The old gossip! But it’s true, he is. Then again, he’s scuppered the first part of my weekend in return.’ I told her all about the trip to Glasgow to meet Henry Feldenstein.
‘Hmm,’ Sally said. ‘It does sound as though he’s planning to get his pound of flesh then.’
‘So long as Feldenstein’s not expecting any kind of flesh,’ I said. ‘I rather get the impression Seb wants me to use my feminine wiles to convince him to buy Marcus Oriel’s work.’
‘Wear brown tweed and look forbidding,’ said Sally. ‘It’s the only defence left to you.’
At work I began to piece together what th
e art critics had said about Shakespeare. Elsie was trawling through a series of Google alerts to find every positive piece that had made its way on to the web. At 10.30 a.m., she emailed another link through and I clicked to see the article.
The headline was Zachariah Shakespeare: a very, very silly man.
‘Um, Elsie,’ I said, ‘you know when I mentioned that I was specifically looking for positive reviews of Shakespeare’s work?’
She looked up and rolled her eyes. ‘Uh-huh?’
‘Well, by that, I meant articles which say nice things about him, okay? The ones that imply he’s a money-grabbing fool are of less use to me.’ It was the third such article she’d sent through in the last forty minutes and I had a feeling she was doing it on purpose.
‘What about if the article calls him something like a “Shock Jock”? That’s what this one here says.’
My head was aching slightly. ‘To be fair, that could appeal to some people. Better bung it through.’
Elsie let out a huffy noise. ‘You see. It’s not simple, is it?’
I kept looking at my watch in spite of my resolve to knuckle down. I hoped Sinem hadn’t noticed. She was deep in a batch of letters to buyers who might be interested in our February exhibition.
All my clock-watching made the morning seem interminable. At last it was midday and I felt it wouldn’t look too odd if I went out to get some lunch. I walked for a few streets first, to try to settle my nerves, and eventually found a place called Beatrice’s Bites. The baguettes in the window looked tasty enough, although the name of the shop made me think of mosquitoes.
The day was unusually mild, and I sat on a bench in a square, munching through mozzarella and tomato, and watching the world go by. A couple of pigeons pecked around near my feet, edging closer and looking hopeful. Glancing through a cafe window, I could see a man in a red cravat talking to a woman with a very pronounced chin.
It was a while before I was conscious that I’d carried on staring at them, but without seeing what was in front of me. I was back to thinking about the evening again. I roused myself, and shook my head to clear my thoughts and focus on reality.
