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Authors: Katie Fforde

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BOOK: Artistic Licence
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‘I thought the critics panned it,’ said Thea.

‘Oh, they did. And rightly so. Rory’s work was far too immature and his behaviour at the show even more so. I told Maxim … you know? Maxim Applozzia? You must have heard of him – he’s got three galleries in New York and is opening here next year.’

Thea nodded, hoping her ignorance wasn’t as obvious to everyone else as it was to her.

‘I told Maxim to take it all down, close the show. Rory just wasn’t ready to exhibit.’

The nausea which had been threatening now seemed a real possibility. She didn’t trust Veronica remotely, but parts of her story were probably true – possibly all of it was. But why in God’s name had Ben never said a word about her part in Rory’s downfall? If
she’d known where the loo was, she’d have escaped to it. As it was, she could only stand her ground and hope her body wouldn’t let her down. ‘Oh, really?’ she said tightly. ‘I’d heard Rory’s story, of course, but he didn’t mention your part in it.’

‘Oh, he probably wasn’t aware of my part in it.’ She laughed gaily. ‘The poor boy was in no state to be aware of anything –’

‘Except that his show had been taken off and the critics had completely disparaged it.’

Veronica decided to take some time with this woman, who obviously was a little slow but if she was ever to be got rid of she would have to have a few things pointed out to her. ‘Darling, Thea? Interesting name. I don’t think you quite understand. The critics may have given Rory a very hard time, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t admire his work. They just thought it immature. I knew that in a few years he’d mature beautifully –’

‘Which? Rory, or his paintings?’

‘And of course, while we’re terribly grateful that you found him for us in Ireland, you were only just a few steps ahead of us. Edward and I had put out a lot of feelers and were about to track him down.’

And the ‘feeler’s’ name was Ben Jonson, no aitch, like the poet. Thea began to shake, aware that she was suffering from shock.

Veronica went on, ‘Of course, we will give you a credit in the catalogue, won’t we, Edward? That would only be fair.’

Thea knew she had to get out of there and soon, or she’d vomit over Veronica’s Manolo Blahniks. ‘I think I need to talk to Rory about being fair. Would you give
me a moment, Rory? Outside?’ Her teeth were beginning to chatter and the air-conditioning suddenly seemed far too powerful.

Rory, looking shifty and embarrassed, was only too willing to follow Thea into the street.

The sweet, dirty smell of a city when it’s about to rain was refreshing after the powerful odour of Veronica’s scent. Thea stood for a few seconds, breathing deeply, trying to fight the physical symptoms of shock which seemed to linger long after her brain had accepted the situation; she had been totally and utterly shafted by everyone. At that moment she could have suspected even Petal and Molly of being in on the act.

‘Where would you like to go?’ he asked.

‘I don’t want to go anywhere! I just want you to tell me why, when you never intended to show in my gallery, you let me go to all the trouble and expense of setting one up.’

He looked down at her and put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Would you like to go to a pub or something? Somewhere we can talk.’

‘No. I have to stay in the fresh air for a bit.’

‘If you call this air fresh.’

‘For Christ’s sake! It’s all there is.’

‘Let’s find a park or something.’

‘God, Rory! Can’t you just tell me you’ve sold me down the river here and now? Or, being an artist, do you need some goddam sylvan setting?’ She set off down the street so fast that she could hardly avoid the oncoming pedestrians.

Rory hurried after her. ‘OK, forget the park. But slow down, please.’

Thea couldn’t slow down. She had to work off the adrenalin she could feel rushing through her veins, filling her with panic.

Eventually Rory managed to get alongside her. He took hold of her arm in an effort to calm her.

Thea ignored it but let it stay. ‘So tell me. Did you ever mean to show with me?’

Just then a terrific clap of thunder deafened the world and rain, warm and hard, came down on them.

‘Jesus, Thea, this is ridiculous! Come inside somewhere.’

‘No! Why don’t you just tell me the truth? After all, I know it already. I just want to hear it from you, personally, the artist I’ve turned my life upside down for!’

They were both drenched remarkably quickly. Thea was only wearing a long cotton skirt and a little vest top. In seconds even her underwear was soaking and she watched Rory’s magnificent torso appear as the rain plastered his T-shirt to his body. ‘Well?’ she demanded.

Since the storm, she no longer felt the need to hurl herself along at breakneck speed. She stopped on a street corner, ignoring rain and hurrying people alike.

‘It wasn’t like it seems! I’d –’


Thea!’

As she turned she realised the plaintive little voice had spoken before.

‘Thea! You went so fast I could hardly keep up with you!’

‘Toby! Darling!’ He was drenched, his fine hair plastered to his head and he was shivering violently. To crouch down and wrap him in her arms was
entirely instinctive. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I wanted to stop you running away.’

Thea, huddled on the pavement, still holding the shaking child, wanted to cry. She had been so wrapped up in her problems that she hadn’t even noticed Toby chasing after them. Anything could have happened; he could have been run over, knocked into the road, or even kidnapped.

‘I wasn’t exactly running away, I wanted to talk to Rory, but it must have looked like that.’ It had felt like that, too: escaping from Veronica’s cloying scent, her glamour, the elegant gallery which had seemed to mock everything she’d done in the last two months.

‘I’m so glad I’ve found you. Dad would have been so cross if you’d got lost or anything.’

Thea straightened up, still keeping hold of Toby’s hand. She didn’t think Ben would give a toss – if he could betray her as he had done, why would he care if she took a few wrong turnings and ended up miles from anywhere? ‘Well, I haven’t, so that’s all right. Now, which way back to the gallery?’

Rory shrugged. The rain was still beating down and they were all shivering.

‘Which way, Toby?’ Rory asked. ‘You’re the Londoner.’

‘I don’t live in Knightsbridge,’ Toby said.

‘I can’t believe this!’ Thea said. ‘We’ve only been gone a few moments. We can’t have got so far away that we can’t find our way back.’

‘You were going at a hell of a lick, Thea.’

‘So we are lost, after all?’ asked Toby after they had all looked up and down the streets, searching for clues as to their whereabouts.

‘It certainly seems that way, only not just me, but you and Rory as well.’ She sighed. ‘Well, never mind, we’ll get a taxi and give the gallery’s address. It’s not really a problem. If we walk up to the crossroads, we’ve a better chance of getting one.’

‘It’s always hard to get a taxi when it’s raining,’ said Toby, after trying to spot an orange light on top of the many taxis that sped passed for several minutes.

‘We could go to the underground station,’ suggested Rory. ‘At least we’ll be dry while we look and Knights-bridge tube is quite close to the gallery. I’ll know the way from there.’

‘OK, you find the nearest station, then.’

South Kensington Tube station seemed to be several miles away, although it was probably because they took so many wrong turnings finding it. In her London days Thea always carried about a tattered
A to
Z. It had since fallen apart completely and, because she was going to be with Magenta, who had a perfect sense of direction, she hadn’t bought a new one. It made her feel incredibly vulnerable.

While they joined hundreds of others waiting for the tube, Thea had a belated thought. ‘I suppose we should ring the gallery and tell them we’ve got Toby. His mother will be out of her mind. Have you got a mobile, Rory?’

‘No. Haven’t you?’

She bit her lip. ‘No. I left it at home. I was in a hurry to get to London.’

‘So, why did you come to London?’

‘Why do you think?’ she hissed, clutching Toby’s hand like a lifeline. ‘And I can’t talk about it now!’

Eventually a tube came and they stuffed themselves
on to it. Belatedly, Thea realised it was the rush hour, and they’d have a very squashed journey. She felt Toby’s hand become sweaty in her own, but she wouldn’t release it. It was her fault he was lost and she couldn’t risk it happening again. ‘I expect we’ll start steaming soon,’ she told him. ‘Like in a rainforest.’

It was still raining when they emerged and the warmth they had felt in the tube was washed away. ‘OK Rory, we’re in your hands. Which way?’

Rory lead them to the gallery quickly enough, but when they got there it was closed.

Thea rattled the door in frustrated disbelief. ‘They can’t just close it. They must have known we’d come back with Toby. Veronica must be beside herself with anxiety.’

‘My nanny will be more worried, I expect.’ Toby began to look nervous himself.

‘It’s all right, Toby,’ Thea soothed. ‘We’ll sort it out. Where’s Ben at the moment? Up here, or down in Bristol?’

‘Here.’

‘Were you going to go home with Veronica?’ The thought of Toby spending time with that harpy made Thea shudder.

Toby shook his head. ‘No. She’s too busy to see me this weekend, which is why we visited her at the gallery.’

‘Then why didn’t she stay there? Now we must think what’s the best thing to do.’

‘Get out of the rain,’ said Rory.

‘Should we go back to your house, Toby? Or Veronica’s?’

‘Mine, but it’s miles away.’

‘Then why in God’s na—I mean, then why did you visit Veronica at the gallery if it’s miles away from where you live?’

Toby shrugged. ‘I think she thought it would be fun for us, coming on the bus.’

‘You don’t remember which bus, Tobe?’ asked Rory. ‘We could get one back.’

‘We had to change. It took ages.’

‘Well, I’ve had enough. I’m going to lie down in the road outside Harrods until a taxi stops.’

‘But Thea,’ protested Toby as he was pulled along behind her, ‘they won’t see you if you’re lying down.’

‘Well,’ said Rory a few moments later. ‘I was a bit shocked by the way you pushed that old lady aside, Thea.’

‘I didn’t push her aside and she wasn’t old. She was warm and dry, and had just indulged in a lot of retail therapy. Our need was the greater.’

‘It’ll cost an awful lot to go by taxi all the way to my house,’ said Toby, who had given the address to the driver.

‘Too late to think about that now, old man.’

‘And even if it wasn’t,’ said Thea, ‘I’d have still got in. I’ve had enough of the underground for one day. Even if it was only one stop.’

Toby sighed. ‘Do you think everyone will be dreadfully cross?’

‘I expect so. People always are when they’re worried. But it’ll be all right. They’ll be so overjoyed to see you. Veronica will probably buy you a mega present.’

‘I don’t expect she’ll be there. She never comes to our
house. She and Dad don’t get on.’

‘I expect that’s why they got divorced,’ said Rory.

Just as the taxi drew up outside Toby’s house, while Thea was calculating the tip, a car drove up and tried to park in too small a space opposite the taxi. Thea was still fiddling around in her purse, hunting for pound coins and didn’t notice, but Toby said, ‘Oh. It’s Dad. It’s early for him to be home.’

Thea didn’t want to see Toby’s dad, unless she had a blunt and heavy instrument about her person with which to batter him to death.

The taxi pulled away at about the same time as Ben managed to park his car. He got out, slammed the door, his expression matching the weather, which was still thunderous.

‘Dad!’

‘Toby!’ Ben seemed to cross the street in a single stride. ‘Thank God you’re all right. What in hell’s name happened?’

Toby released himself from his father’s embrace, avoiding his gaze.

‘It’s a long story,’ said Thea defensively. ‘It’s not his fault.’

This time Ben’s rage was not tempered by relief. He turned it on Thea at full force. ‘Of course it’s not his fault!’

Rory cleared his throat. ‘Would it be a good idea if we went into the house? It’s still raining cats and dogs, and Toby here is drenched. We all are.’

Ben thrust his hand into his pocket and gave his keys to Rory. ‘Take him inside and get him a hot drink if his nanny’s not there. You’ – he took hold of Thea’s shoulder in a vicious grip – ‘you, come with me and give me an explanation!’

Chapter Eighteen

It took all Thea’s strength to rid herself of his hand, clamped to her shoulder, and she didn’t manage it until Toby and Rory had gone into the house and he slackened his grip.

‘Now, what the hell do you mean by running off with my son? What have I ever done to you to deserve that?’ he demanded.

‘What?’ She was as angry as he was but also confused. ‘What do you mean, “running off"? I haven’t done anything of the kind. It’s you who’s totally and utterly betrayed me! God! I thought it was bad the first time it happened to me! But this … it’s … worse.’

BOOK: Artistic Licence
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