Artistic Licence (33 page)

She met Rory at the pub he stipulated. It was not in a part of London she knew and Thea felt a little awkward going into a busy pub on her own, when she had no confidence in Rory’s punctuality. But she went
in and searched the crowd for Rory.

He was at the bar, entertaining a couple of young men with Irish jokes. ‘Hey, Thea! Over here! What are you having?’

‘If you’re paying, a large one.’

‘Of course I’m paying. Jimmy, a large Paddy for the lady.’

Thea almost changed her order to a mineral water, but then decided a bit of Dutch courage, or in this case, Irish courage, might not be a bad thing. ‘Rory,’ she said firmly, when she’d thanked him for her drink. ‘I do need to talk to you. Can we go and sit down?’

‘I suppose so, Thea, but I don’t think you’re going to like what I’m going to say when you’ve said your piece.’

‘Probably not, but I’ve got to say it. I’ve got to try and make you do the decent thing. I mean, do you really want Veronica, who pulled the plug on your first show, getting the credit for discovering you?’

‘I wouldn’t if she had. But she says she always stuck up for me. She says she tried to persuade everyone to lighten up and let my show run its course.’

‘And you believe her?’

‘I have to believe her. She got me a show in one of the best galleries in London. Edward cancelled a retrospective of a really famous artist, so I could show.’

Why hadn’t Edward mentioned this to her when they were discussing whose right to Rory was the greater? Was Edward not telling Thea everything? Or was Veronica lying to Rory? ‘Who was that, do you know?’

Rory shook his head. ‘Forgotten. Someone terribly important. I’m going to have to bone up on
contemporary artists. I know nothing about them.’

Thea smiled, not really amused. ‘You must ask Edward as soon as possible. In case you need to give a lecture on them.’

‘That was a low blow, Thea.’

‘You deserved it.’ It wasn’t so much a blow as a hint. If Rory did ask Edward, he might learn that not everything Veronica told him was true. She tried one more appeal to his sense of fair play. ‘So I can’t persuade you to do the decent thing?’

‘Not if I value my life. Veronica would kill me if I changed my mind now, after she’d gone to so much trouble to introduce me to Edward and set up the show.’

‘Oh! So you’re not worried about
me
killing you? For pretty much the same thing? Only in my case it wouldn’t be so much murder as justifiable homicide! I put my own money, Molly’s money and the sweat of my brow into my gallery! Weeks of hard labour! Not to mention looking after your dog and your puppies so you could come to London and leave me stranded!’

‘No,’ he said baldly, unimpressed. ‘Because you’re not that sort of person. You wouldn’t sabotage a vicar’s tea party out of spite, let alone someone’s career. Even if that someone happens to be me. Veronica wouldn’t think twice about it.’

‘I could learn to be that sort of person,’ she muttered, wishing it were true.

Rory put out his hand and cupped her cheek in it. It was warm and comforting and trustworthy, quite unlike its owner. ‘No you couldn’t. And that’s why I love you.’

She looked at him, startled.

‘I mean the word in its widest sense,’ he added. ‘I’m afraid I’ve come round to thinking that you and me are a beautiful relationship that was destined not to happen. But don’t worry, I’m not completely brokenhearted.’

Thea suddenly felt tears spring to her eyes. She bit her lip. She was tired and had gone through a lot in the past twenty-four hours. Despair, which she had kept at bay with every trick she knew, suddenly seemed very near. She took a large sip of whiskey. ‘Oh, God,’ she murmured so quietly he couldn’t hear her. ‘I wish I could say the same.’

It was dispiriting to have to take the train back to Cheltenham to tell Molly that her mission had failed. Rory had not promised to change his mind and come back to Thea’s gallery. He hadn’t even promised to think about it. He had refused. The only good news was that Edward Grampian was seriously talking about giving Thea a job that she could do and still run her gallery. It would be hard work, but she would scout around the country for work which wouldn’t usually come his way. He might even offer exhibitions to artists who’d previously exhibited with her.

This, she hoped, would be enough to stop Molly getting too downcast. But it wouldn’t stop her railing against Rory and his perfidy. Thea could have done quite a bit of railing herself, but there was no point. She just had to move on and look forward to the graduate show.

She decided not to tell Molly about Ben’s part in it all. It wasn’t fair to her – it wasn’t her fault, but as his relation she’d feel bad about it. And worse, she’d
probably feel obliged to stick up for him, to explain away his actions as being ‘for the best’.

To her surprise, Molly was waiting on the platform with Petal as the train drew in. She must have come home for some reason, Thea thought, as she struggled to open the door through the window. I just wish I had some good news for them.

‘Hi, you two!’ She stepped down on to the platform, her bag preceding her. ‘How lovely of you to come and pick me up. Save me having to get a taxi.’ She kissed Molly and was about to kiss Petal, when she saw the expressions on their faces. ‘What’s the matter? It’s not the pups, is it? Lara? Oh, no, don’t tell me. I couldn’t bear it. Not Little Chap, the one I’ve been hand-feeding?’
That’s why Petal’s here
, she thought distractedly.
So I won’t be alone in the house.

‘The dogs are fine,’ said Molly. ‘Or they were when I picked up your keys half an hour ago.’

Thea’s heart, which had begun to race, took a moment to realise all was not lost. ‘Then it must be the gallery. A flood. Oh, my God, not a fire! Not all Rory’s pictures!’

‘Thea!’ said Molly, irritated. ‘What has got into you? Why are you imagining all these disasters?’

‘Because you two have got faces which could announce the outbreak of World War Three. What’s happened?’

‘Ben rang and told us
everything
,’ announced Petal.

‘What?’ What ‘everything’ could Ben have possibly told them?

‘We can’t talk about it here,’ said Molly. ‘Let’s get in the car and go back to Thea’s. There’s a lot to discuss. Though I must say it’s very disappointing.’

‘Can’t argue with that,’ Thea agreed. ‘You get in the back, Petal. I’ve got all my stuff.’

‘You could put it in the boot,’ suggested Petal, who liked the front seat best.

‘Oh, just get in, both of you,’ snapped Molly.

Home was much tidier and cleaner than Thea had left it, in spite of her high-speed attack on the dirt. The hall smelt of polish and air freshener, and the floor shone as it never had before. Even the kitchen was surprisingly orderly. The newspapers on the floor had been used, but they hadn’t yet been ripped and rumpled by puppy games.

Thea picked up Little Chap and then the kettle. ‘So, what did Ben say, to make you both look so miserable?’ She managed the kettle and puppy together, filling one and cuddling the other. She wished she could have the place to herself, to have a quiet cup of tea, see to her dogs and plan a strategy.

‘He told us that Rory definitely won’t be showing with us,’ announced Petal. ‘Because Veronica – that’s his wife – has found a really wonderful exhibition space for him.’

‘Well, I knew that.’ She put down Little Chap so she could deal with mugs and tea bags.

‘But you don’t seem to understand the implications,’ said Molly, sitting down.

‘Or you wouldn’t be so cool about it,’ broke in Petal. ‘It’s all been a complete waste of time. I may as well go back to Surrey!’

‘Well, there’s no point in weeping and wailing and gnashing my teeth. Rory’s not the only pebble on the beach.’

‘But this was our big chance to make a name for
ourselves as a gallery,’ protested Molly, as if Thea must have forgotten. ‘We were going to get so much publicity and interest from the art world. Rory would have put us on the map.’

‘I know. His paintings are wonderful, but I’ve got a really good degree show lined up. And we’ll have a bit more time to get ready for that. We weren’t ever going to be a one-show wonder, Molly. We’ll just have to make our reputation a bit more slowly, without Rory’s help.’

‘I still don’t think…’

‘Would you like tea, Molly?’

‘Yes, please. But I don’t see why you’re not tearing your hair out over this. I mean, the whole reason for you dashing off to London was to convince Rory to change his mind and you failed. We know you did, because Ben told us.’

‘Ben doesn’t know everything,’ said Thea airily. ‘Ben doesn’t know that I showed my slides and stuff for the graduate show to the owner of the gallery where Rory’s showing. He liked them a lot. He thinks I have a good eye and he wants me to be a scout for him. So there!’ She could have added a lot more, but didn’t, for the sake of discretion.

‘Oh. And this proper gallery owner actually liked that ghastly pink kitchen and those weird videos?’ Molly was at once appalled and disbelieving.

‘Yup. You see, we don’t need Rory.’

Petal sighed. ‘I was really looking forward to his show, I must say. I don’t know if I’m really into the gallery now.’

‘Well, honestly!’ said Thea. ‘A fine friend you are! Take away the crumpet and only leave the art and you
lose interest. Perhaps I should point out that some of the graduates are fairly gorgeous, too.’

‘It’s not that,’ said Petal, making it clear that it was.

‘Well, have a cup of tea, both of you. And then, now I know that the gallery hasn’t been burnt down, or been flooded, or anything, I would like to unpack and sort out my washing and stuff.’

They took the hint, drank their tea and left.

Thea spent the rest of the day at home. Somehow she couldn’t face the gallery just yet. Although all her cheery statements about its future were true and she did believe them, she was more bruised by Rory’s defection than she wanted Molly and Petal to know – probably because of Ben’s part in it all. If only she could believe him when he said he hadn’t gone looking for Rory for Veronica’s sake. If only she hadn’t fallen in love with him, or even if only she could fall out of love with him now she knew he was the root of all her troubles. It was a shame the heart didn’t work like that.

She went to bed early and fell asleep immediately, aided by hot milk with whisky in it. She was in the middle of her deepest sleep when the phone finally penetrated her dreams enough to wake her.

It was Rory. He sounded drunk. ‘Is that you, Thea? It’s me, Rory. I’m ringing from a pub.’

‘I guessed. What do you want?’

‘I was just ringing to tell you that I’ve decided to show with you after all.’

‘What?’ Thea sat up in bed to make sure she wasn’t still asleep.

‘I said I’m going to show with you after all. It means you can keep the pictures. I’ll be down in a few days to tell you where to hang them.’

‘What? Why? What changed your mind?’

‘I decided not to let my life be ruled by that bitch. I’ll show where I want to show and let Veronica go hang. Let her try and ruin my career all over again!’

‘Calm down, I’m sure she won’t do that.’

‘Yes, she will. She told me. But I don’t care. And now I’m ringing off. Goodbye.’

Thea stayed sitting up in bed, wondering if she could allow herself to be pleased, or if Rory would have forgotten about his drunken telephone call in the morning.

Fortunately, because it had taken a while to wake up, most of the call was recorded on the answering machine. For a moment the thought drifted through her head that, should she have to sue him, she could actually produce the tape in court.

Far too wide awake now to be able to go back to sleep, she lay in bed for a while, mentally placing the pictures and wondering if it would be worth disturbing the puppies to make a cup of tea. If she went down, they’d all think it was morning. She’d have to heat milk and give them Weetabix, and take them out into the garden. If it had been four or five, Thea would have done this to get a head start on the day. But it was only half past one.

Eventually she decided she’d never get back to sleep if she just lay there, listening to the news on the World Service. She got up, braved the puppies and took a cup of tea back up to bed. Typically, it was half past five when she finally dozed off.

Dragging herself out of bed at seven, Thea felt terribly groggy and short of sleep, but knowing there were hungry pups, lakes of wee and piles of poo
awaiting her, she pulled on her dressing gown and threw herself in the direction of the stairs.

If only she’d put on shoes. She put her foot in a puppy poo the moment she opened the kitchen door. She swayed about for a moment or two, debating whether to scoop up newspapers and deal with the other poos first, and then try and hike her foot into the sink in the scullery, or vice versa. It was the thought of balancing on one leg after so few hours of sleep that unnerved her, but then again, walking about with poo between the toes was worse than unnerving. She limped to the sink.

When her foot was at last clean, she emptied out her Wellingtons and put them on. By the time the kitchen floor was swabbed, all the puppies had raced around the tiny garden for a bit and had eaten their breakfast, she realised that there was a definite bubble of cheerfulness developing within her. She would hold Rory to his promise, and if she had to threaten to cut his pictures into pieces and send them to him bit by bit, she would do it.

‘I can’t understand it! Ben definitely said that Rory
couldn’t
show with you because Veronica would use all her influence to ruin him!’

Thea tucked the phone under her chin and picked up a puppy. ‘Rory obviously felt differently. Perhaps he’s not as frightened of Veronica as Ben is.’

The sarcasm floated past Molly. ‘Oh, Ben’s not frightened of her. But he has had to fight hard to keep on good terms with her for Toby’s sake.’

Thea sighed, her broken night suddenly catching up with her. ‘Well, anyway,’ she said, ‘Rory
is
showing
with us, so we can get back on track and organise it all.’

‘He can’t change his mind again, can he?’