Page 18

During the journey to the art gallery, I forced myself not to peek at Aunt Ada’s blog post on my phone. But her trip to Paris played out in my mind and I tried to work out what had happened. Danny made polite conversation about the evening, but I did not hear what he said. If only the blog post had not left me on a cliffhanger. I may have grunted with frustration as Danny studied me curiously. The taxi stopped outside Heatherdale Art Gallery. It was a large, grey building accessed via many steps. Sturdy Corinthian columns framed the large doorway. A huge banner stretched across the front of the building that read: Felix Laine Exhibition. A picture of Felix pulled me out of my musings. I eased my legs out of the taxi, trying to pull down my shift dress and then cursed the high heels as I finally regained my balance.

‘I do hope we actually like the paintings.’ Danny ran his fingers through his short blond hair and rubbed the short sections at the side of his head. Having tamed his curls, he could have been a very distant cousin of Brad Pitt. ‘I will say what I think about the art. My mother brought me up to appreciate paintings because she had to design various hotel rooms.’

‘I’m sure Felix’s artwork will be impressive.’ I imagined Felix’s paintings to be photographic and very detailed.

‘I hope it’s not that abstract nonsense.’ Danny screwed up his face. ‘I just can’t abide that stuff.’ He shook his head and frowned. Danny’s suit was well tailored, single breasted and highlighted his slim shape. His whole stature changed when he wore a suit, and he commanded a presence.

I forced myself not to stare at him.

‘You’ve gone very quiet. What’s wrong?’

‘I hardly recognise you,’ I admitted, realising he had the knack of coaxing the truth from me.

‘I had a fight with a lawnmower and my head feels much lighter now. You’re looking sizzling hot, by the way.’

Unable to cope with the compliment sending shivers down my spine, I said, ‘I don’t feel hot. Air conditioning in the taxi kept me cool.’ Now I paused on the steps, working out how to change the subject. ‘Anyway, I’m sure Felix put a lot of work into whatever he’s done, and we’ll be able to support and admire it. I don’t want us to upset him.’

He kissed me gently on my cheek. ‘You’re so kind, Maisie.’

Shocked at the little wobble in my legs caused by the kiss, I took hold of the handrail and pretended I needed to adjust the strap on my shoe. As I ascended the steps, I declined Danny’s arm and managed to reach the entrance without clinging onto the handrail. Did Danny think this was a date? A striking marble room greeted us, and many people wearing expensive clothes chatted in the entrance hall. A waiter with purple hair to match his clothes, and presumably the exhibition, presented a tray of drinks. My large glass of Pimm’s tasted like a soft drink. However, university garden parties had taught me to pace myself.

Scent of Felix’s pine aftershave announced his presence before I even caught sight of him in a black suit and a deep purple silk tie paired with a spotted purple handkerchief. I leaned against a pillar when he spoke to me but did not hear a word he said and found myself nodding like an obedient dog.

When Felix moved on to the next guests, Danny whispered, ‘Do you need something stronger to stop you from swooning?’ He laughed at himself, then kissed a woman on both cheeks. She flicked her blonde locks out of the way, and I was sure Danny ate some of it. The woman wore a purple catsuit that was zipped up a couple of inches above the waist. A long necklace, with a large diamond pendant on a glittering chain rested above her cleavage. I breathed in and could not take my eyes off the jewellery.

The woman in the catsuit turned to me. ‘Hello, darling Maisie. I recognise the Ralph Lauren dress, it’s fabulous on the fuller figure. You wear it well, Maisie.’ Amelia stood in front of me wearing a blonde wig.

‘Oh, so sorry, Amelia. I didn’t recognise you at first,’ I said, with ‘ fuller figure’ ringing in my ears. And then a tiny flutter of envy rushed through me when I noted Amelia and Danny side by side, looking like a glamorous couple from a magazine.

‘Don’t worry. I have so many wigs that I don’t always recognise myself in the photographs. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid.’ When she pointed at me, I noticed she was wearing a huge ruby ring and her nails were purple with tiny diamond jewels on them. She glided over to Felix who put his arm around Amelia as if they’d been married for years. A wave of disappointment hit me, reminding me Felix was way out of my league.

A clinking glass announced the start of the event. Felix and Amelia stood in front of a purple ribbon, then Felix moved in front of a lectern and held a microphone. ‘Thank you, friends, and welcome to Illusions. One day this exhibition will be referred to as Laine’s Purple Phase and you saw it here first.’ He coughed and paused to drink water. ‘Any purchases made today will be at a ten per cent discount for my exclusive guests. It is my pleasure to introduce Amelia Lord to open the exhibition.’ Felix’s face remained neutral, but he kept his eye on the door constantly.

Drinks in hand, we walked through oak doors and into a large exhibition space. Splashes of colour on large canvasses surrounded me. We passed a collection of one-dimensional paintings that appeared to be in the shape of cats or maybe they were dogs. I stopped in front of a painting covering a wall. The subject reclined on a chaise longue with a purple garment covering elements of her naked body, but the garment was one block of colour with a reflection of the woman roughly painted like a shadow. Large eyes dominated her face like saucers.

Amelia stood next to me. ‘That’s my absolute favourite. I posed for hours.’ She frowned a little then let out a raucous laugh that echoed in the marble hall. ‘He told me to have passion in my eyes. I didn’t realise my eyes are so huge and scary.’ She giggled again and tilted her head.

As if anticipating I might start to giggle too, Felix stormed into the middle of the conversation and screamed. ‘Out, out, you philistines. How dare you laugh at my beautiful painting? I refuse to explain the symbolism. This is how I see Amelia. This represents the real Amelia.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Don’t you get it?’

‘Well,’ said Amelia with her hands on her hips, ‘according to the painting, I’m a bloody mess. I need to get counselling and you need to stop smoking whatever you have in those roll-ups, darling.’

Felix did not look in my direction. ‘This will make you famous.’ He pointed a finger at her. ‘You’ll have modelling jobs for the rest of your life and won’t have to resort to reality TV,’ sniped Felix.

‘Oh, do be quiet,’ hissed Amelia. ‘Your face has turned the colour of your purple paintings. You know I can act!’ She walked towards a flashing camera and shouted. ‘I adore the paintings. He’s seen deep, deep into my soul.’ She pointed in my direction. ‘The couple over there are desperate to purchase one and we have a buyer online.’

A journalist scribbled notes at each painting then shook his head. Uneasy for Felix, I attempted to engage with him but ‘mmmmm’ seemed to be the only sound he made.

I walked away and joined a group of women who surrounded Felix.

Felix glanced at me, but his stare made me shiver. When I grabbed hold of his sleeve, he brushed me away. I did not like the diva in Felix one little bit and found myself watching the calm, businesslike Danny instead. Funny, how first impressions did not give you the full picture. Though Felix made me want to sign his name across my heart, Danny was beginning to intrigue me. Danny might not have captured me on the first page, but a few more chapters and who knew what I might find?

Then Jemima walked through the double doors. Her hair was swept up in a chignon and she wore a long, black dress. ‘Daddy.’ She beamed at her father who opened his arms to hug her and kiss her gently on the forehead.

My legs ached and I longed to get home, have a bath and relax in my pyjamas. I was keen to explore the potting shed again, wondering why my aunt never told me about it. There was no sign of Danny.

‘It’s divine,’ said an elderly woman, staring at the large painting.

I walked beneath draped purple material hanging from the ceiling and noticed it was much darker apart from the light resting on it.

‘He’s a genius!’ declared another man viewing an impressionist style image of Amelia that actually reflected her appearance. She was sitting on the same chaise longue. The purple of the fabric transformed into a field of bluebells. Strips of light were visible in the woods, along with the silhouette of a tiny fairy.

I heard Danny’s voice. ‘Yes, Mother. I think you’d love a series of these pictures for the new restaurant in the hotel. They’d be a great investment and a talking point. Yes. I will ask him to call you.’ He waved at me and then disappeared towards Felix and the bustling crowd.

Jemima’s delicate arm moved around my waist. ‘I’ll never forget this evening. My friends will be so jealous. Have you seen the footballer? He thought I was seventeen.’ She handed me the phone. ‘Let’s have a selfie together.’

I snapped a photograph and said, ‘Can you photoshop the colour from my face?’

When she was satisfied with the photograph she glanced around the gallery. ‘My mother isn’t anything like these paintings. And she’s not quite as mean as Daddy has represented her. I’ll have words. They are both so difficult to live with, but I love them.’ Jemima smiled then moved confidently towards her father.

My mouth was open, as I took in what Jemima had just said. Amelia was her mother. Felix and Amelia lived in different houses, so I assumed they were not together. I had been swooning over a man who was already taken. It was odd the way Amelia had never mentioned she was Jemima’s mother and was not paying any attention to her. I perched on a sofa in the foyer and fanned myself with the exhibition programme. Slipping off my shoes, I wriggled my toes and delighted in the cool, tiled floor beneath my feet. I moved my shoulders then admired the elaborate, arched ceiling. The general hum of voices floated above me, and I rubbed my eyes to stop me falling asleep. My thoughts returned to my aunt again and the stolen lines of the manuscript. Closing my eyes, I mulled over the blog post. Aunt Ada had a secret life she never shared with me.

A scream echoed around the room until everyone paused. I watched people freeze and resemble a tableau in a classic tragedy.

Hand spread on her chest, Amelia screamed again. ‘Where is my necklace? Who stole it? It was on loan from someone. Oh my God!’ Cameras snapped her frantically.

The heat forced me to remain seated.

Amelia pointed at an elderly security guard who held a walkie-talkie that was bigger than his head. ‘You must sort this out NOW!’ she commanded.

Danny sat beside me. ‘Never a dull moment.’

Jemima approached her mother. ‘Mummy, Mother, I think the necklace is attached to your hair.’

The security guard heard Jemima and tugged the jewellery hanging beneath Amelia’s locks of blonde hair, but it refused to move.

‘Mummy, please stand still and stop complaining. I’ll untangle it.’ She released the sparkling necklace. ‘I told you not to wear this again. It got caught the last time you wore it. Honestly! It’s like caring for a child.’

Amelia kissed Jemima. ‘What would I do without you?’

Cameras flashed again until Amelia bowed and declared, ‘Thank you. I’m delighted with the representation of my emotions in these paintings. Pure genius!’ And with that, her heels clipped on the floor until she found a crowd of admirers.

Jemima rolled her eyes and said, ‘I’m the daughter of two world-class divas. Is it any wonder I struggle?’

‘You’re perfectly fine if you ask me,’ I said.

She dragged me to another corner of the exhibition. ‘Come on, have a look at some of Dad’s photography. I love it and he’s given me one of his old cameras.’

Through a corridor and inside a tiny room there was a collection of photographs and paintings. There were close-ups of people. A man sat on a bench surrounded by pigeons and there was a magnificent photo of Notre Dame.

‘Lovely,’ I declared, wanting to go home now. A small impressionist oil painting captured my attention. Light reflected beautifully on the wet pavement. A woman wearing a black coat walked across a cobbled street with the umbrella hiding her face. There was a bistro with a red canopy above it, and the red reflected on the rain-soaked cobbled streets.

I sat on a bench opposite the painting. ‘Which area of Paris is this?’

Jemima sat beside me. ‘Montmartre. My father takes me to Chez la Mère Sylvie when we go there for his business trips. I love it.’

‘Montmartre,’ I announced as if I had heard the name of a close friend. ‘I’m going there on holiday.’

‘My grandfather lives there and has just signed up with Airbnb, I’m sure Dad can sort something out. I’ll tell him.’

*

Danny listened to me talking about Felix, Amelia and Jemima in the taxi. He nodded at my comments but did not seem surprised at all by what I said. When headlights from another car shone into the taxi, I noticed how defined Danny’s face was now that he had removed the chaotic stubble on his face. A sharp businessman had replaced the scruffy jogger. Sat with his arms across the back seat of the car, he waited and tapped his fingers to the tune on the radio. When I imagined myself sinking back and falling into his arms, I blinked to banish the idea.

‘Have you got something in your eye?’

‘Erm, I don’t think so.’

Moving closer he gently pushed my curls out of my face.

Our eyes connected.

He removed a torch from his pocket. ‘Come closer.’

I could smell the champagne on his breath. ‘Why have you got a torch in your pocket?’ Now I giggled, hoping he had not picked up on my sudden nerves.

‘Habit, I suppose. You never know when you might need one. I can’t see anything in your eye.’ Having returned the torch to his pocket, he seemed to study my lips.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand to check for crumbs of food. ‘I’m probably just tired. Thanks. I’m not used to drinking these days.’ And I hoped the fizzing in my body was also caused by the champagne.

He rested his arm across the back seat, encouraging me to rest my head on him. ‘Sleep on me if you want to get some rest.’

‘I’ll be fine.’ My heart was beating, so I sat upright, and shuffled to my side of the car.

The taxi approached Heatherbridge and swerved around the final bend, forcing us to face each other. We leant into a kiss at exactly the same time. The tenderness of the kiss surprised me, banishing my nerves and rendering me silent for once. And one of my ears seemed to have popped, which was probably caused by the champagne. Sinking into the leather seat again, I rested my head on his arm. When I woke up, I was conscious of Danny watching me. Grant said I looked like I was catching flies when I fell asleep on a bus, so he was probably disgusted.

‘Don’t worry, you didn’t snore too loudly.’ He grinned. ‘We’re back and I think your Mum is peering out of the window.’ He pointed to the curtain dropping back into place upstairs.

Mum presented us with fried eggs, chips and a large mug of tea when we arrived at my cottage. It was wonderful to sit there in my old shorts and T-shirt, without any of the make-up on. The silence in the kitchen was a welcome relief from the constant buzz of the gallery, but Danny ate without speaking, occasionally checking his phone. Was he regretting the kiss now? I could not read him, and certainly could not ask him in front of my parents.

‘Have you paid too much for the paintings?’ I asked, curious to know why he appeared so glum when the kiss had switched off the world around me, sending my head in a spin.

He shoved chips in his mouth, shook his head and returned to his screen. ‘No, I think I’ll get them at the right price. I am texting Mum and Felix at the moment. I need to act quickly. Sorry to be so rude.’ He held his thumbs up to Mum. ‘Lovely chips - just what I need.’

Mum hovered around, checking if we needed more tea and asked, ‘I’m curious to know what the paintings were like and hoped you’d take some photos.’

‘The paintings were quite a mix of styles. Some were impressionist and quite romantic while others were a brutal representation of Amelia. I think there’s quite a menacing side to Felix’s character,’ I said, thinking how stupid I had been to fall for him like some silly lovestruck teenager. Tonight, I had seen the artistic temperament. I once dated a post-graduate artist who broke up with me because I was not an effective muse for his Pre-Raphaelite painting.

Mum shook her head. ‘I can’t imagine he has a menacing side to him. He’s so charming, clever and creative. Was Amelia offended?’ Mum fluttered her eyelashes as if Felix was in the room. What chance did I have if this attraction was in my DNA?

I reflected on how Amelia was more concerned about her necklace than the paintings. ‘Amelia is the mother of Jemima, so I guess she knows Felix well.’

My mother’s jaw dropped, but Danny still tapped away on his phone and now there was a frown right across his forehead, suggesting the deal was not going his way. For some reason, I had an urge to try and rub away at the frown etched into Danny’s forehead.

Rain hammered on the windows. I rested my legs across the sofa, enjoying Danny’s presence beside me.

When Mum was out of the room, Danny’s arm stretched out on top of the sofa as if he wanted to put his arm around me. ‘She is so annoying,’ complained Danny. ‘My business partner has decided to sell her share of the business. Talk about timing.’ He tapped away on his phone, sighing with frustration at times.

Though I wanted to get his attention, it was obvious he was preoccupied. Playing it as cool as I could, I settled down to check my emails. Snuggling into the sofa, I contemplated resting my head on his shoulder. Then I noticed another blog on my phone and now it was my turn to retreat to another place.

Pages of Other Worlds Blog

The Manuscript

Dear Readers,

As I coloured in the paintings in the street below, I glanced up at Bella’s apartment, but she did not gaze out of the window. The curtain shifted in the breeze barging into the open window.

The man who took her briefcase knocked on the door of the apartment. Once inside, he stood in front of the open window, talking with Bella. He handed something to her.

She tossed the document down into the square. ‘I will only write what the characters tell me to write,’ she bellowed. ‘Leave! No amount of money will change how I feel.’

‘You must do as I say to sell. Do you hear me?’ His voice boomed into the street below, making me worried for Bella. ‘I can’t protect you forever.’

The man departed from the building, slamming the door. I watched as he paused in the doorway to light a cigarette. He shook his head as he stamped on the discarded match.

I knocked on Bella’s door to see if she would answer.

I worried about Ada and Bella. Why did this man need to protect Bella?

‘You two are like teenagers obsessed with your phones,’ said Mum, prodding me with her elbow. ‘Do you want anything else to eat, Danny?’

‘No thanks, Mrs Bloom. I must get home because there’s a problem with my business partner.’

‘I’ll see you out.’ I stood up, avoiding eye contact with Mum.

We both paused at the door, leaning towards each other, until we heard a woman’s voice booming through the phone’s speaker. ‘Danny, Danny. I need you to come home. I need your help. You know I love you.’

I nodded and then stepped away. ‘Laura,’ I whispered, remembering his fiancée’s name.

He switched off the phone. ‘It’s over between us but my business is in trouble. She’s about to sell it to the highest bidder, without any regard for my share.’

Mum released a huge sigh when Danny had gone. ‘How the hell do you youngsters manage to date each other these days when you’re always on your phone? Don’t tell me you’ll have to text each other later or have that facetime.’

‘Mum we’re not dating.’ I stopped myself from letting out a huge sigh.

She screwed up her face. ‘He was the guest here and you could have chatted more with him about what happened tonight.’

As if I could … I wiggled my ears at the memory of them almost exploding from the kiss. ‘He was preoccupied with his business deal.’

‘What were you reading on your phone? I hope Matt isn’t on the scene again.’

‘ NO! I was reading another blog post and I’m worried. I really think my aunt may have got herself into some trouble when searching for the author, Bella.’ This was sure to get her off the scent.

‘What do you mean?’ asked Mum.

When I read out the post, my parents listened.

Mum didn’t answer but I saw a look pass between her and Dad and then she rolled her eyes.

‘It’s written like a story. I’m not sure it’s real,’ said Mum, folding her arms to show she was still annoyed with me for not talking to Danny. Little did she know…

Dad mumbled something into his newspaper.

Why were you searching Ada’s blog when Danny was there? No wonder he was looking at his phone. I hope you didn’t ignore him all night.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ I remembered the weird buzzing in my ears caused by my lips colliding with Danny’s. ‘He was distracted first. Anyway, I’m worried about Aunt Ada. I just have a feeling - that’s all.’

‘What feeling?’

‘That she may still be alive, because I didn’t sense her passing like with Gran. And even if it is a small chance, I need to check. It’d haunt us all if we ignored it and …’

‘OK. If you need to go, then go.’ She kissed me on the cheek. ‘But admit it, your plan to go to Paris distracted you from Danny, didn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ Along with the kiss that had made me feel… ALIVE again.