The Last Goodbye (34 page)

“But what happens if someone attacks you then on the way back?”

“If someone attacked me they’d know about it. Now that’s it – end of!”

I knew there was no point in arguing with her.

A few days later PC Black had rung me with an update to say that unfortunately they hadn’t been able to find any CCTV footage in that area – if it had been a few metres further up the street, it would have been picked up but in the spot where I had been attacked, there was nothing.

“That’s probably why he did there,” he had said. “These guys do it for a living – they’re professionals. They know exactly where and where not to do it. Unfortunately we’re seeing a lot more of these types of attacks with the recession.”

I was shocked that the muggers had the city mapped out and had pinpointed the best places to attack people. I just had to accept that it was gone. Well, I hoped karma would reach up and bite him on the arse one day.

Chapter 47

It was when I was alone in the gallery one morning while Nat was in Spain with her mum that I had an idea for something nice that I could do for her. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought of it earlier. The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I just hoped that my plan would work.

I logged on to the computer and went through Nat’s files and found exactly what I was looking for. I felt a buzz of excitement flow through me. I really hoped that she wouldn’t get mad at me. It was a bit risky and the last thing I wanted was for it to backfire. I made some phone calls to a few of our printing and framing suppliers but when I told them that I needed it for the end of the week, they had all balked at the tight timeframe. I had to beg them and they agreed that they’d do it this once as an exception seeing as the gallery put so much money their way every year. I rubbed my hands in glee. It was all starting to come together.

I told Ben what I was doing and while he agreed it was a great idea, he also said it was brave of me, which made me start to doubt whether I was doing the right thing. What if Nat hated it? Something like this was very personal and she might not even be comfortable with it. I was wondering if maybe I should just forget about the whole thing. The last thing I wanted to do was to upset her more. But I had already put the wheels in motion, so to speak, so I couldn’t very well back out of it now.

I asked Ben to pop over to the gallery on his way home on Friday evening to give me a hand. My stomach was full of butterflies as I stood back and watched Ben hanging Nat’s photos up on the gallery walls. Nat’s subjects were always people. There was an old woman dressed decadently in furs, fingers heavy with jewellery, wearing a pair of slippers and pushing a shopping trolley with what looked like her belongings inside it. I remember Nat saying she had taken it on Kensington High Street. There was one of a bearded Jewish man with a kippah upon his head, deep in prayer. Another was one she had taken of a class of little girls with straw hats and ribbons in their pigtails from a local Montessori school crossing the street, following in an obedient line behind their teacher. There was one that she had taken of turbaned man manning a stall in Portobello Market. The photos looked amazing, they really and truly did. Her work should have been on these walls years before now. As we both stood back to admire them I felt goosebumps pop up along my skin. I just hoped Nat would feel the same way.

“I can’t believe Nat took all of these!” Ben said again.

“I know. She’s really good, isn’t she?”

“She has a great eye. Why did she never exhibit them herself?”

“Oh, you know Nat, she wouldn’t have the confidence – plus she doesn’t see herself as a ‘photographer’ – more someone who likes taking pictures as a hobby.”

“Well, she is every bit as good as these other people.” He gestured around the room.

“Oh, I know, I keep on telling her that. But hopefully this will make her see it for herself.”

I was a nervous wreck all weekend, thinking about how Nat was going to react. I couldn’t sleep with worry. Ben had to keep telling me to relax. I think he was afraid I’d send myself into premature labour.

The following Monday morning I went in to work half an hour earlier than usual just to make sure that I would be in before Nat. I was giddy with excitement as I looked at her photos displayed on the wall again. They looked great, there was no doubt about it. I just hoped Nat would think so too.

At five minutes to nine I watched her tie her bike on to the railings outside the window. She looked radiant and sun-kissed and it was clear that the break had done her the world of good.

“How was the holiday?” I asked as soon as she came in the door.

“Amazing! I just ate, slept and drank. The only exercise I did was to turn the pages of my book and lift my wineglass to my lips. It was exactly what I needed. And it was good to see Mum again too. Were you okay for the week on your own?”

“All good. As you see, the place didn’t fall down without you. But I was lonely talking to these four walls every day.”

“Aw, poor Kate!”

“I have a surprise for you.” I bit down on my lip. I always did it whenever I got nervous.

“What is it?” she said warily. “You know I hate surprises!”

“How can anyone hate surprises? C’mon, it’s upstairs.”

She climbed the stairs after me until we both stood on the mezzanine floor.

“What’s going on, Kate?” She looked at me in confusion. Then she moved closer to the walls and started looking at her photographs.

“Welcome to the exhibition of works by Natalie Anderson!”

I had tied a red ribbon around the central picture.

“But how did you . . .” She was speechless.

“Don’t ask! Let’s just say I pulled in a few favours!”

“But you can’t just put my photos on the wall!”

“Don’t worry, I’ve run them all past Tabitha first.”

“Did you tell her they were mine?”

“Well, not exactly . . . I just said that you were a new photographer we were working with.”

“Oh God, Kate, I’m going to kill you!”

“Well, she was very impressed actually. She said that if we keep finding talent like that she’ll be a happy lady, so there! And here, there’s just one more thing . . .” I handed her the invite that I’d had Charlie design and print.

“What’s this?”

“Read it.”

“But this says that I’m having an exhibition . . . starting next week.” She was horrified.

“Yep.”

“But I can’t, Kate!”

“Why can’t you? It’s all arranged and we’ve already had loads of RSVPs.”

“Oh my God, Kate, I can’t believe you did all of this!”

“Well, someone had to. I’ve known you for so long and you’ve never had the guts or belief in yourself to do this. I knew that if I left it to you, you’d never do it.”

She started to cry then. “Thank you, Kate – this is one of the nicest things that anyone has ever done for me.”

Relief flowed through me. “You’re welcome, you deserve it. You have such talent – I just know the exhibition is going to be a big success.”

“I wish I had your faith . . .” She walked back over and started looking at her photos closely. “How did you even find them?”

“On the computer, of course, but there were so many to choose from – I could have done three exhibitions easily.”

“Well, let’s just see how this one goes first, yeah?”

“Are you excited?”

“Are you mad – I’m far too petrified to be excited! I still can’t believe I’m having my own exhibition . . .”

After lunch a man came into the gallery. He was dressed in jeans and a jacket with a V-necked pullover underneath. I guessed he was probably in his mid-thirties. He was wearing thick-framed tortoiseshell glasses. I could tell he was a real arty type just from the way that he dressed.

“Check him out.” I elbowed Nat.

She looked up from the computer. “Yeah, he’s good-looking, I suppose,” she said half-heartedly.

I guessed she still wasn’t back in the game. I would test her from time to time but she had yet to get excited over a fine male specimen.

I climbed down off the stool and walked over to the guy.

“Hi there,” I said. “If you need any help just shout.”

“Thank you,” he said.

He wandered around the ground floor for a while before climbing the stairs. I could see him up over the balcony. He came to a stop in front of one of Nat’s photos. I knew which one it was – it was a simple black-and-white photo of a young woman sitting on a park bench. The woman’s hands were clasped together on her lap while she stared off into space. She didn’t seem to notice the pigeons that had gathered around at her feet. He stood fixated on the photo for a long time, way longer than usual. I went upstairs to him. I must say I was finding the stairs hard work these days. My hips, my knees, everything seemed to be aching constantly.

“Can I help you there?”

“That picture – who took it?” He pointed at the wall but didn’t take his eyes off the photo.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it – hang on until I get the photographer herself and she can tell you all about it.” I shouted down to Nat. “Nat, can you come up for a minute?”

She came up and joined us on the mezzanine.

“Nat, this gentleman was just wondering about this photo?”

“Where did you take it?” he asked her abruptly.

“I, um . . . just took it in the park over the road, one lunchtime. Why?” she said nervously.

“I’ll take it.”

We both looked at him.

“Em . . . okay . . . don’t you want to know how much it is?” I said.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Right – okay, I see. I’ll take it downstairs and wrap it up for you.”

There was something on edge about the man. He didn’t seem to be on the same planet as us at all, whatever was going on inside his head.

We went back downstairs and over to the till. He picked up one of the fliers for Nat’s exhibition off the counter and read it while I wrapped the photo in brown paper and tied it up with string. He paid over the money and then disappeared out of the gallery.

“That was a bit weird, wasn’t it?” Nat said to me, coming up behind me at the till.

“Yeah, he seemed a bit . . . unhinged or something.”

“I thought I was in trouble because I didn’t ask the woman in the photo for her permission first. I’m still not sure of all of the correct protocols. God, I really hope this exhibition will be okay . . . I feel like I’m in over my head – you saw what I was like there and that was just one person!”

“Don’t be worrying, it’ll be grand.”

Chapter 48

The day of Nat’s exhibition came around quickly. I shooed Nat out the door at lunchtime to get her hair done.

“Go on – no one wants to come to an exhibition and look at your scarecrow hair. Sort it out.”

“You cheeky mare!”

While she was gone I set about arranging the wineglasses on a table just inside the door. I had picked up fresh hydrangeas from the market earlier on and I distributed them in vases around the gallery. I lined up chairs along the mezzanine and set up the microphone as we always did for our exhibitions. I stood back and looked around the place. I had been working on exhibitions for a long time and couldn’t believe that this one was finally Nat’s.

“
Swit swoo
– check you out!” I said to her when she came back later that evening. Her thick auburn hair was blow-dried with a bouncy wave and she had changed into a black V-neck dress with a chunky red-beaded necklace and super-high platform heels. She looked stunning. I felt like a fat frump beside her. I had brought a change of clothes to work with me. It was another magnificent jersey ensemble but this time in a fuchsia colour. God, I couldn’t wait to start wearing regular clothes again. And high heels. I’d had to discard my high heels weeks ago when I had started to feel like a sumo wrestler on stilts, standing on top of them. I missed my heels.

“So how are we looking?”

“All done, I think – I’ve the champagne chilling in the fridge. Let’s have a glass.”

I took out a bottle and popped the cork. I poured her a frothy glass and a thimbleful for myself.

“Thanks, Kate – I need this to help steady the nerves.”

We clinked our glasses together.

“Here’s to a successful exhibition and the start of a glittering photography career.”

Nat gulped her glass back while I took a small sip from mine, wanting to make it last.

“Have you practised your speech yet?”

“Damn it – I knew that I was forgetting something!” She slammed her glass down on the counter so a small bit of the champagne sloshed over the side of the glass. She reached down to pick her bag off the floor and pulled out her notebook where she had been scribbling notes as they came to her over the last few days.