The Goddess Rules (37 page)

“Have you spoken to Louis?” she asked, much too loudly for Kate’s liking, as they walked past a group of exotically shod girls with thrilling faces to match—all of whom would undoubtedly leap at the chance to take home the star of the show tonight, Kate noted as the last vestiges of hope deserted her. He hadn’t even caught her eye earlier as she watched him in front of the cameras. That was how important she was to him.

“Not a chance,” Kate said as they entered a dark screening room and let the curtain drop shut behind them.

“I didn’t know Louis did video installations.” Kate said in her friend’s ear as they sat down on the back bench. The film began and the audience of about fifteen people fell silent.

Kate watched with only half her mind on the piece at first. The piece seemed to be a moving film of airport X-ray machines. Each one was a different suitcase as it appeared on the monitor above the security machines. Kate had watched a hundred times as her cell phone and the blobby outlines of her belonging showed up on screen. Once or twice she’d noted with horror as a pair of scissors were revealed and it meant she’d have to hand them over to security as she’d forgotten to put them in her suitcase.

“It’s clever,” Kate said to Tanya. “I love watching other people’s stuff.”

“It’s sweet,” Tanya said, so Kate looked closer. Sweet had actually passed her by. Then she noticed that amid all the blobs, the white shapes, and the odd metal object like a gun or a knife, or even the famous scissors, was something unexpected. In the image on the screen now was a flower. Barely visible, but it was there. Next there was a bracelet wedged against a laptop computer. Kate looked more closely and then recognized the bracelet as the same kind of charm bracelet her dad had given her for her twenty-first birthday. She waited for the next image. She sort of knew that it would mean something to her but at the same time didn’t expect it to be. This time there was no doubt.

“Isn’t that your zebra head?” Tanya asked in too loud a voice. “I didn’t see this bit before.”

“Yeah, I think it is.” Kate leaned forward. In the next few images were a toy car, a chunky watch, and a brilliant white credit card. Kate began to wonder if she’d been hallucinating the bracelet and the zebra head. Then there came a suitcase with a blurred photograph in it. Kate instantly recognized it as the one she had in her bedroom drawer. She waited until the film stopped but nothing else came. Only more obvious, hand luggage objects.

“I liked that,” Tanya said as everyone filed out of the room and back into the dazzling white of the gallery. “You didn’t tell me he’d borrowed your zebra head.”

“He didn’t. It just looked like my zebra head. Mine’s only got one ear.” Kate was trying furiously to figure out what all that had been about. Was it a coincidence that things of Kate’s were in there? She paused by the wall on the way out and noticed the white piece of card with the name of the piece on. She waited for some people to move so that she could check it out. She hoped that it would say something like,
THINGS BELONGING TO THE WOMAN I LOVE
. But as she nudged closer it only read
TRANSPARENCY
. Kate rolled her eyes. She bloody well hated conceptual artists. She agreed with Robbie, it was meaningless.

“Did you like it, then?” Louis was standing in front of her when she turned around.

“The piece?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I thought it was . . . sweet,” she said. She couldn’t read his face.

“It was about you,” he told her.

“Was?” she asked. “In the past?”

“I did it a few years ago and never showed you. It’s pretty dated now and obvious but hey, it’s supposed to be a retrospective. I can put it in if I like, can’t I?” He looked tall tonight and Kate could see people hovering and wanting to speak to him.

“If only I’d known,” she said.

“I don’t think it would have made much difference.” He shuffled in the way he used to in front of her. “In the long run anyway.”

“Is Grace here?” Kate asked, not able to help herself.

“Somewhere.” Louis looked around and about five of the hovering people looked ready to pounce.

“Before you go,” Kate said, suddenly fearing that this would be the last contact they had, “I just want to say thanks for giving me the chance to work with you. It’s been a great experience and I love the piece and . . .” Louis was looking at her but it was as if what she was saying meant nothing. Which actually, if she was honest with herself, it didn’t. She thought of Mirri on the riverbank in a ridiculous coat, getting water down her waders and making a fool of herself in front of Nick. Nick wouldn’t mind, Kate thought. And if he did, well, as Kate had discovered, it would just mean he wasn’t the right person for Mirri. It was impossible to lose something that wasn’t there in the first place. Kate had lost Jake because he was never truly hers. She had lost Louis because she’d never accepted the side of herself that he loved. And he’d lost her because she’d been too fearful of taking chances to take anything but the safest of steps. Even though that so-called safe step of getting engaged to Jake had been the wrong one.

“Louis, I messed up,” Kate said. “I’m really sorry for who I was. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen when you told me about Jake. And I’m sorry that I didn’t see a good thing when it was right in front of me. And if it’s any consolation I know that I’m never going to be as happy with someone as I would have been with you. And I know it’s my loss and I don’t expect you to do anything about it, but I just wanted to tell you,” she concluded as one of the exotic-shoe girls tapped him on the shoulder.

“Louis Alcott?” she said. He nodded. “I’m Tatiana, I work at a gallery in New York, and I love your work. I was just wondering . . .” She was dazzlingly pretty with her raspberry python-skin shoes and leopard-print coat.

“Tatiana, would you mind just giving me a moment with my friend Kate. It won’t take long.” He smiled winningly and Tatiana retreated with a satisfied swoon.

“Kate. Thanks. I appreciate it,” Louis said, and touched her arm. Was that it? She looked at him, waiting for him to tell her that he was in love with Grace now or that he was glad that she still cared because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. But he didn’t.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure,” he said as he tugged at the hem of his T-shirt.

“I hope so,” Kate said as emphatically as she could manage, but it didn’t seem to matter. Louis gave her one last smile and then turned to Tatiana.

Kate stood like a lemon behind Louis for a second or two. She looked at the people filing in to the video piece. What bloody good was transparency, she thought, if it got you nowhere? She’d done what Mirri would have done, she’d been honest to herself and to Louis, and where had it gotten her?

“Transparency’s bullshit,” she said as Robbie arrived at her side clutching an exhibition program.

“Couldn’t agree more,” he said, sneering at the piece of card outside the entrance to the room. “I could do better myself.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

It was the first week in September and Kate had been living in her flat for just a few days. She really just spent most of her time wandering from room to room and marveling that it actually belonged to her. Not that it was wildly exciting just yet—some of the floorboards had been sprung up by the plumbers and were lying in wait to trip up unsuspecting visitors, most of the walls were still pink with plaster, and though there was a kitchen and a shower now, that was pretty much as sophisticated as it got. In fact, in its current state it wasn’t much better equipped than the shed had been. But it was home and Kate had been waiting an age to find where she belonged. She was at the top of a ladder when there was a knock at the door.

“Just a minute,” she called out as she put her paintbrush down on the top of the tin. She’d spent all day painting her walls a chalky-gray color, but whenever she came back into the room they looked more and more like a prison cell.

“Parcel.” The postman was standing at her door with a huge, flat package resting against his legs.

“Great.” Kate signed for it and got gray paint all over his pen. He handed over her parcel. She was surprised at how heavy it was.

“Mind you don’t put your back out with that,” he said when it was too late. Kate staggered into the hallway and was about to tear it open when there was another knock.

“It’s open,” she called out and turned around. It was supposed to be Leonard because he’d promised to come around and give her an honest opinion on the Cell Gray color. But she could tell by the shoes that it wasn’t.

“What’s
that
doing here?” Today was Nick Sheridan’s first full day in Mozambique. He’d just gotten back from visiting the site where the Mirabelle Moncur Wildlife Trust had asked him to design their headquarters. He was tired and dusty but walking up behind Mirri, with her bottom hanging just a bit below her indecently cut denim shorts, he knew that he’d done the right thing in agreeing to spend six months here. His daughters would come and visit for Christmas, he’d take them on safari, and they’d all go down to Victoria Falls. They’d definitely test Mirri’s patience, but not as much as it was going to test her patience to try to share her life with anyone other than Bébé. And possibly not as much as his patience was going to be tested if she kept on behaving like a willful child.

“I like it.” Mirri moved back a few steps and stood beside him. She squinted slightly at Kate’s portrait of her, which she’d hung over the fireplace. “I like the way I look in it.”

“But it’s not yours.” He shook his head disapprovingly. “You gave it to the National Portrait Gallery.”

“Well, I didn’t give it to them, actually. As you can see.” She pointed to the painting. “I kept it.”

“You can’t keep it. It’s not yours. You gave it to the nation.”

“They won’t notice.” Mirri bit her lip guiltily.

“They’ll have made a space for it.” He slapped her bottom playfully. “And a little white label to hang beside it. You have to send it back tomorrow.”

“But it makes me think of Kate.” Mirri played the sympathy card. “I miss her. She’s like a daughter to me.”

“You speak to her every night.” Nick folded his arms and looked more closely at the picture.

“It reminds me of you,” she said with a flourish of inspiration. He didn’t believe her. “It was a time when I used to sit and look out the window and think of you. I didn’t know if you were dead or alive or married or even remembered me,” she said tragically.

“I can’t believe you were an actress.” Nick walked over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a gin and tonic. “You’re so terrible at it.”

“It’s true. Look, can’t you see the loss in my eyes.” She pointed at the portrait, which he had to admit did reveal all the depths and complexities of Mirri that most people never saw. It was a stunning portrait of a beautiful woman, but it wasn’t the most flattering picture he’d ever seen of her. When he thought about it he was pleased that she liked it. It meant that she was at ease with herself.

“Please, darling,” Mirri said as he handed her his drink for her to take her customary long sip before giving it back to him. She followed him toward the endless glass doors that looked out onto the plain. There wasn’t much of a garden, just a baobab tree, better known as the upside-down tree because it looked as if it has its roots in the air, and some very scratchy grass where Bébé was rolling with one of his brothers. The sun was setting in the distance and Nick gazed with wonder at the horizon, which was the widest and farthest he’d ever seen.

“Only if you marry me.” He turned to her as if he had her in checkmate. He’d asked her every day since they’d met up again but she’d resisted. This painting could be a bargaining chip.

“If I like your building then I’ll marry you,” she told him.

“It’s a deal,” he said. “I’m going to build you the most spectacular structure you’ve ever seen. It’ll be like a cathedral to our love.”

“Oh, good.” Mirri laughed and took another sip of his drink. “That seems very fitting, because you know you’re the answer to my prayers, don’t you? I used to go up to the hills over there in the evenings and think about you.”

“Mirabelle Moncur, are you getting sentimental in your old age?” Nick turned his head to hers.

“No.” She smiled naughtily, “It’s just that I like that painting a lot, it reminds me of a wonderful summer in England. Besides, I can’t send it back. I like to get my own way.”

“That’s more like it.” Nick laughed. “If you weren’t a tricky, devious, spoiled pain in the backside I’m not sure I’d like you.”

“That’s why I love you,” she said as she hung her hands around his neck and kissed him.

“I have to remind you, though,” he told her, “I like to get my own way, too, now and again.”

Kate recognized the scuffed sneakers standing on her mat. She looked up to see Louis in the doorway.

“You did it.” He knocked on the door. “You’ve got your own front door.”

“I have a kitchen sink, too,” she said proudly as she stopped cutting the string on the parcel and stood up.

“But no running water?” He pointed at Kate’s face, which was streaked with the dubious gray paint.

“Ah, yes.” Kate rubbed her cheek, but it didn’t come off. She was wearing an old pair of dungarees and an orange-and-pink scarf in her hair. “But the loo flushes.”

“Thank the Lord for small mercies.” Louis smiled. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“God, no, I’m sorry. I’m not used to owning a house to invite people in to.” To be truthful Kate was just so shaken to see Louis again that she couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted, but experience had taught her not to expect anything too promising. Besides, she was just beginning to feel as if she could stand on her own two feet. For the first time she wasn’t borrowing Leonard’s garden shed, she wasn’t asking Mirri’s advice, she wasn’t craving Jake’s love. She was finally sleeping under her own roof, albeit in a sleeping bag on a yoga mat, and doing things for herself.

Since she’d finished her portrait of Mirri, Kate had been encouraged enough by the response of Leonard and Nick and Mirri to advertise in Green and Stone for anyone who might want a portrait. Of themselves or their children or lovers, and not just their cats and iguanas. So as she felt the familiar feelings of yearning as she looked at Louis, she reminded herself that she’d be fine, no matter what he’d come to say. As long as it wasn’t to invite her to his wedding. She wasn’t improved enough as a person not to throw a paint tin at his head if that was the reason he was here.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Louis said as he closed the door quietly behind him and stepped onto one of the dangerous floorboards.

“Mind that one,” she said as he nearly disappeared through to the cellar.

“Ah, yes.” He walked with extreme caution into the sitting room and found himself a safe-looking piece of windowsill to perch on. Kate followed him and sat on the stepladders.

“I’ve been really pissed off with you,” he said, and looked down at his feet.

Kate was taken aback. The last thing she wanted was a telling-off. “Really?” she asked, thinking maybe she’d just ask him to leave now.

“I thought that what you did to me after you got engaged to Jake was unforgivable.” He sounded cold and she didn’t like the way he wouldn’t catch her eye. “I pretended to be civil, you know, for the sake of us working together and for the project, but it was really hard.”

“Louis.” Kate stopped him. “If you’ve come here to give me a bollocking, then I’d rather you went away and wrote it down in a letter or something. Only I’m not sure that I want to hear it.”

“I thought we were being honest.” He pushed the fallen piece of black hair back from his face.

“Oh. Okay, go on.” She didn’t like this honesty game and she cursed Mirri for having started it. What was wrong with subterfuge and white lies and hiding from your true feelings? Hadn’t she been happier in those days? She thought back and realized that she hadn’t. “But can you make it not too brutal? Only I’ve just moved in and I don’t want loads of negative energy flying around.”

“Fine.” Louis chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully for a second. “The thing is that I fell in love with Grace. She was lovely and bright and great company,” he said calmly. Oh God, here came the invitation to the wedding. Kate looked for a nearby paint tin to hurl.

“But every night when I was at dinner with her I thought about you. When I went into the gallery in the mornings I’d go and look at your work, hang around your paints and things to feel close to you. The piece I said I made years ago? Well, I made it after you’d split up with Jake.” Louis began to chew his fingernail. Kate pushed the scarf back off her face. “I told myself I didn’t give a damn about you, but I did. And when you told me that night at the opening that you were in love with me . . . well, walking away was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Right,” Kate said without much emotion. As she sat here, in her new house, surrounded by her new beginnings, she suddenly wasn’t sure whether she was brave enough to hear him out. For the first time in ages she felt as if nobody could hurt her. She didn’t know if she wanted to be shaken up again so soon. She took a deep breath. “I’m going to get us some tea.” She walked out into the hall without letting him finish.

“Kate,” he called after her. “Just hear me out. Please.”

“I can’t, Louis. I just want to be by myself for a while.” She stood in the hallway and looked down at the parcel, which was leaning against the bottom stair. The brown paper was peeling back at the top. She wondered what it could be. It was very badly wrapped.

“Don’t walk away from me.” Louis came after her, then stopped as he watched her take the first layer of paper off the parcel. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know. It came in the post just before you arrived.” She knelt down and peeled off the paper. “I think it might be a picture.”

“It is.” Louis stood over her.

“Oh my God.” Kate moved away from it when she felt her finger brush a corner of canvas and oil paint.

“What?”

“This better not be what I think it is,” she said as she very carefully stripped away at the package. “She can’t have sent this without so much as
HANDLE WITH CARE
written on it. Can she?”