Artistic Licence (18 page)

Read Artistic Licence Online

Authors: Katie Fforde

BOOK: Artistic Licence
9.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

It was in a small town about twelve miles away, an area noticeably lacking in art galleries. As they drove through to find somewhere to park it seemed to be lacking in lots of things, being dotted with the plethora of empty shops that plagued many small town centres. She consulted the estate agent’s details she had purloined from Ben.

‘There’s only one property listed to rent here, although if that’s not suitable, there seem to be lots of others which might be. Why didn’t I think of coming to this town in the first place? I bet property is cheaper.’

‘I’m sure it is, but how are you going to get people in? I don’t think this town is exactly a mecca for art.’

Thea was indignant. ‘You’d be surprised! The surrounding villages are delightful – all sorts of artists and media types live in them, even if not in the town. They’ll love having great art on their doorstep.’

He looked at her and sighed. He didn’t say he thought she was doomed to disappointment, possibly because he knew enough about her by now to know that she wouldn’t listen.

They walked down the hill and cut through a little alleyway.

‘They call these laggars,’ said Thea conversationally. ‘I learnt that at a course on local history when I first came down here.’

‘Really? Where I come from they’re slips. I suppose it’s one of those words that never becomes a general term but just stays local.’

‘So, where do you come from?’

‘Wimbledon. It’s got very smart recently.’

They located the property on a street corner, just by the station. Until recently it had been a building society, but before that it had been a dress shop, prominent in the town, with huge plate-glass windows on two sides.

‘It’s wonderful,’ said Thea. ‘It’s so huge.’

‘Let’s go in before we get too carried away.’

While Ben struggled with the key, Thea wondered if he’d used the word ‘we’ in the patronising way adults did with children, or if he meant ‘both of us’. Naturally optimistic, she decided on the latter.

Inside, Thea was just as enthusiastic. There seemed to be so much space and light. It cried out to be something more exciting than just another financial institution.

Ben followed Thea as she went into the largest room, exclaiming on the building’s beauty. He didn’t point out the grubby carpet, the dark beige walls or the dirt.

‘It is a lovely space, you must admit that,’ said Thea.

He nodded slightly, like a man bidding secretly at an auction.

‘It’s just a pity there probably isn’t enough wall space,’ she went on.

Ben took a breath. ‘You could block out the windows, if you needed to, with fibreboard. You just build a framework and fix the board to it.’

Thea turned to him, delighted. ‘What a good idea! You are clever. What’s through this way?’

There were two other rooms, also with huge windows and Thea began to feel more and more that this was the right property. ‘Let’s go downstairs,’ she said, when she’d mentally found space for about half
of Rory’s huge works.

Downstairs was a basement. There were no windows, no natural light and there was a suspiciously damp smell.

‘It’s the carpet,’ said Ben. ‘If you got it up and let some air get to it, it would probably be fine.’

‘And there are no windows,’ said Thea enthusiastically. ‘We could put paintings on all four walls and prints in the corridor. We’d just need some good lighting. What’s in there?’

There was a little kitchen and another office, again with no windows.

‘This would be good for installations.’ She indicated the office. ‘And the kitchen’s got potential.’

‘As a kitchen,’ said Ben firmly.

‘And an office. I could put a desk in there.’

They stood in the dingy passage. He was looking down at her and, while she couldn’t see his expression, she sensed that he wanted to talk to her, in the way that headmistresses had often wanted to talk to her when she was at school. In other words, what he was going to say was not good news.

‘Thea,’ he began, putting a hand on her arm.

‘Ben,’ she said firmly, taking it off. ‘I think I know what you’re going to say and I think it would be better if you said it somewhere else. Like a pub. There’s one just across the road. I spotted it as we came in.’

‘So,’ she said, having taken a sip of her lager, still resolutely upbeat. ‘You’re going to tell me that I’m mad, that I can’t possibly make an art gallery work without a private income and that I should just let Rory’s art go to the States, which he can do really easily
– all he needs to do is look up his contact on the Internet – and leave me to take up a useful hobby. But let me save you the bother – I know all that. I’m going to raise a mortgage on my house, put another lodger in to help cover the payments and give this gallery my best shot. I’ll give it two years and, if in that time I’ve made no money, I’ll accept defeat. OK?’

He sipped his drink. ‘Well, I
was
going to say a lot of that and I did come down here to talk you out of it, but I suppose I knew there was no point.’

Thea had been hoping for a brisk, impassioned argument. ‘No,’ she said quietly.

‘So, while I think you’re completely mad and doomed to failure, I will help you in any way I can. With contacts, stuff like that.’

Thea’s mouth twitched. ‘Oh, but not with the painting and decorating?’

His mouth twitched too, but was quickly controlled. ‘I don’t have a lot of time, but I expect I’ll do a bit of that too, if I have to.’

Thea smiled properly and put out her hand. ‘Of course you don’t have to. It’s very kind of you to help at all. And the contacts stuff will be really useful – after all, any fool can slap on a few coats of emulsion.’

‘Which you’ll probably find is a good thing.’

‘I’m sure I can get Petal and co. to help out.’

‘Really? She’s never struck me as the most helpful girl.’

‘Oh, yes! She got the other lodgers to clean the house beautifully, before I came back. I don’t mean she actually did it herself, but she made the others.’

‘Well, good for her. Perhaps she’s growing up at last.’

‘I think she takes after Molly.’

‘Probably.’

‘And Molly’s mad keen to be involved, too.’

‘Thea, I don’t know how well you know Molly. I’m devoted to her myself but she is rather –’

‘Forceful? Bossy? Yes, I do know, but I need someone like that. She’s so
positive
. I think I can keep her in check.’ She smiled. ‘I’m so grateful for your help as well. Rory will be, too, I’m sure.’

‘I’m not doing this for Rory!’ He sounded unreasonably cross. ‘I mean, much as I admire his work, I know he’ll succeed as an artist, especially now he’s so keen on showing …’

‘So?’ Thea whispered, when she couldn’t wait any longer.

‘I’m doing it – or I will be – because I admire you for having a dream and going for it.’

Thea gulped. She didn’t know what to say. To be admired by Ben, even for being crazy, was wonderful. And so, she realised, was Ben. Like the last clue in the crossword puzzle, it was so obvious when you knew the answer. Why she couldn’t make love to Rory, why her heart beat faster when she heard his voice on the phone, why she wanted him near her, even when he was saying negative things about her project. She was either in love, or had the most almighty crush. Either way, she had to say something, and quickly, or he might guess. ‘I thought you thought I was mad,’ she burbled. ‘In fact, you said I was, in so many words.’

‘Yes, I do and you are, but I do admire you for it.’

‘Oh.’

‘And it will keep Molly out of mischief, too.’

She felt more in control of herself now, but he really
did have lovely eyes. ‘So I’ll get a medal from the rest of the family?’

‘Definitely.’

Thea smiled in what she hoped was an insouciant way. Without a mirror she couldn’t check that she didn’t just look simple.

Afterwards, when they’d called on the estate agents and told them Thea was interested in renting the property, and had arranged for Thea to meet the owner’s solicitor, Ben drove her home.

‘Do you want to come in for tea or anything?’ Thea asked. ‘Or do you have to get back?’

Ben took a breath and looked firmly out of the windscreen. ‘Listen, Thea, I feel it’s only fair to tell you straight away that although I am attracted to you – I could hardly help it – I’m not into relationships. I don’t know what, if anything, Molly’s told you about my private life, but Toby’s had too many women coming into his life and passing out of it again without me having girlfriends as well. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.’

It took her a few moments to take in what he said, but she still couldn’t quite believe it. ‘What?’

‘I said, I’m not into relationships.’

A tide of pure anger began to force its way up from Thea’s stomach to her face. She knew she was bright scarlet and that she must try to keep her feelings under control. If she let herself betray any emotion at all, she was likely to deck him.

Molly hadn’t told her anything about his private life. In fact, it was very odd, when Molly had dragged every single man she knew out of the closet for Thea to meet, that she’d never mentioned Ben. Did she know
he ‘wasn’t into relationships’? It didn’t seem a good enough reason for Molly, somehow. More likely it was because Molly didn’t want to annoy Ben by offering him women he wouldn’t want.

‘If you don’t want a cup of tea,’ she said, rigid with the effort of controlling herself, ‘you only have to say no. You don’t have to give me a whole lot of information I really have no interest in.’ The control had slipped and, now that it had, Thea went with it. ‘Why on earth do you think I give a stuff about your dating habits?’

He appeared taken aback and she plunged on. ‘But still, now I know, I can file the information away with all the other useless facts we all clutter our minds with. And if ever I have an opportunity to pass it on to any woman mad enough to want to go out with you I certainly will.’

He caught her anger but, unlike her, kept it in check. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve probably said too much –’

‘You have. Way too much. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m dying for a cup of tea, so I’ll go.’

She was out of the car and up the steps to her house when she realised she hadn’t thanked him for driving all the way down from London to help her.

She stalked back to the car. He opened the passenger door. ‘Thank you very much for helping. Please don’t feel obliged to do it again.’

She had found her key, unlocked her door and got through it before Ben drove away. Once in the kitchen she stared at the whisky bottle for a long time before settling for tea. But she was glad she’d made the sober choice because five minutes later there was a knock on the door.

It was Ben. ‘I’ve changed my mind. I would like a cup of tea.’

‘Then you’d better come in.’ Thea had had plenty of time to regret losing her temper. She followed Ben down the stairs to the kitchen. ‘The kettle’s just boiled, it won’t take long.’

Ben stopped at the kitchen table and turned round to confront her. ‘Actually, I don’t care about the tea. I came back because I can’t bear the thought of you trying to open a gallery without any sort of experience, or contacts, or anything. Whatever you think about me personally, you must let me help where I can.’

Having recently wanted to tear him limb from limb hadn’t affected Thea’s feelings for him at all. She shrugged. ‘Then thank you. I would be very grateful for that.’

He scowled. ‘You don’t have to be grateful,’ he said angrily and strode out of the room. She could hear that he took the stairs three at a time.

Meeting the owner of the property’s solicitor was not the boring but easy task she’d imagined. The owner, it seemed, had been let down over matters of rent several times. Thus, he not only wanted Thea to sign a contract undertaking to rent the property for two years, whether the gallery was open or not, but he wanted three months’ rent as a deposit. This amounted to approximately six thousand pounds, money Thea had to have before she could sign the contract and get into the space to start decorating.

Thea was certain she could raise the money, and more, from her house, but she couldn’t do it instantly. She drove home, considering her options. She could go
to the loan sharks, people who would lend her the money with pleasure and probably let her have it immediately in used notes, but at a rate of interest which would require her to sell her entire house to pay them back. There was Molly, who could probably let her have it immediately and would be happy to wait until she’d arranged a mortgage to get it back, but would then feel she was an equal partner in the project, which might be a dreadful nuisance. There was her mother, who would want Thea to ask her for money, but as she lived on very little, Thea wasn’t prepared to do it. ‘I’ll sleep on it,’ she decided, knowing she’d sleep on a rail if one were offered. ‘And sort it out tomorrow.’

Thea was confident when she walked into the building society the following day. After all, she was a woman of property. It should be a simple matter of borrowing money against the property. The woman she spoke to was young, pretty and efficient. She was also firm. Thea could not have a mortgage, or ‘Personal Finance’ for however little, unless she had a regular income. And she couldn’t say for sure, but she didn’t think lodgers would count.

‘Once you’ve got the money, of course, it’s up to you how you pay it back. But we will need payslips and things to prove what you earn.’ Then, seeing Thea’s desolation, she added, ‘I could refer you to a more senior member of staff. He might have some better suggestions.’

Thea sighed. ‘If I need to see him I’ll come in again.’

The woman smiled. ‘It would be a good idea to make an appointment.’

*

When Thea got home she made an uncharacteristic raid on the bedrooms for dirty mugs and glasses. She rescued the corkscrew from Petal’s bedroom yet again and decided to buy her one of her own. Then she remembered she had no money, and no prospective art gallery, just because she had been paid cash in hand at the photographers.

She thought about going back to them and asking them to write a letter, stating what she’d earned and implying she still earned it, so she could go to another building society, but decided against it. She
had
told them she wouldn’t be coming back, but only after she’d got back from Ireland, when she’d already missed rather a lot of her scheduled days.

Other books

In the Light of What We Know by Zia Haider Rahman
Till We Meet Again by Lesley Pearse
Dancing on the Wind by Mary Jo Putney
Cat Raise the Dead by Shirley Rousseau Murphy
Snow Job by William Deverell
Oppression by Therrien, Jessica
Forgotten by Evangeline Anderson