Elinor stood next to Barbara, her champagne glass held awkwardly in her hand and her smart high heels starting to make her calf muscles ache. Barbara was dressed in a smart black trouser suit whereas Elinor, by contrast, was wearing a tight-fitting sequin dress she’d borrowed from Elena for the occasion. The silver dress was loose, of course, on Elena but stretched comfortably to fit Elinor’s ample curves. Elena had insisted she looked great in it so, against her better judgement, Elinor had taken her at her word.
She was listening politely to the conversation of five guests who’d surrounded Barbara shortly after making an appearance at the Kestrel Gallery’s opening night. As the five had made their way determinedly towards Barbara, Barbara had bent her head and quickly whispered in Elinor’s ear:
‘These are a group of pretentious interior designers but they quite often buy my work for their clients...’
She’d then straightened up and smiled gaily as she greeted them with a double kiss, introducing Elinor to them as her ‘fellow artist’.
Out of the corner of her eye Elinor could see Leo, looking proud as punch, strutting about the gallery talking to people he recognised. He was dressed in a smart grey suit and tie. Elinor had wondered where he’d fished it out from, but Leo had explained how Barbara had hauled him over to Plymouth to buy a smart suit years ago. She hadn’t wanted him to bring down the tone of her exhibitions with his everyday casual clothing.
This had surprised Elinor, as snobbery wasn’t something she would normally have associated with Barbara, but she could see now that underneath her eccentric ways Barbara had a hard-nosed business acumen that evidently contributed to her commercial success.
She zoned back into the conversation just as Barbara said, ‘Do have a look around and let me know what you think. I do value your feedback very much and it makes a real difference to any future work I do.’
The others all nodded as if they all knew their opinion was going to be very important to Barbara and turned as one to stroll about the gallery.
‘Phew! That wasn’t too difficult. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to shake them off. To be honest with you, Elinor, the biggest danger in these events is that you can get completely monopolised by one set of people and never get a chance to speak to anyone else.’
Elinor nodded, reeling at the hidden complexities of the art world. She’d made a decent living back in the days when she’d been a full-time artist, as she’d worked on commissions for people and sold her work online. But this prestigious exhibition was on a whole other level of promotion and publicity.
The gallery owner came up to Barbara with a middle-aged couple in tow, beaming from ear to ear.
‘Barbara, let me introduce you to Mr and Mrs Coults. They’ve just bought two of your paintings and were very keen to meet with you.’
Since this introduction didn’t include her in it, Elinor moved back politely and left Barbara to carry on the cordial conversation while she wandered anonymously amongst the shoals of people drifting in and out of the gallery rooms.
She walked to a large room at the back of the gallery and glanced briefly over to where her two paintings were hanging optimistically on the dark green wall. Her eyes narrowed as she saw what seemed to be a red dot attached to the plastic sign next to one of them. Thoroughly surprised, she moved to have a closer look.
There was no denying it.
There was a circular red sticker placed on the sign next to her painting. It had sold!
Elinor felt the elation fizz inside her. Ten thousand pounds! Even with the thirty per cent fee due to the gallery that would still leave her with seven thousand pounds in its entirety. For someone like her, who’d been out of work for a year, this was an absolute fortune.
Her mind was buzzing but in the midst of her excitement she also started to wonder who’d conceivably buy the work of an unknown artist at such an extortionate price.
She immediately thought of Leo and her heart sank. She really hoped he hadn’t been deceived into paying such a ridiculous price for her painting. Surely he’d know that she would have painted anything for him, for free, after his kindness to her? Feeling troubled, she started to look around to see if she could find him.
She tracked him down in one of the rooms, chatting to Frederick, another of his innumerable friends. She hurried up to them.
‘Leo, please tell me you didn’t buy my painting?’
Leo turned to her eagerly.
‘Have you sold a painting?’
‘Yes, it appears so. So it wasn’t you after all? Really?’
Leo shook his head.
‘No, it wasn’t, I’m afraid, Elinor. Although, as you know, I do think they’re fantastic paintings.’
‘Oh, thank God!’ exclaimed Elinor, bending down, a hand above her knee and another clutching at her heart in relief. ‘I was so worried you’d gone and squandered a fortune on it!’
Leo patted her reassuringly on the shoulder as Frederick started to laugh.
‘Elinor, don’t worry. I know I could commission you to paint me a picture any time and you know what that would be of.’
Elinor nodded breathlessly in agreement, suddenly feeling very foolish. The only painting Leo would ever ask her for would be one of Warren Cove, which was where the ashes of his wife, Elinor’s Auntie Lowena, had been laid to rest.
‘Which just goes to show you, Elinor, that you don’t value yourself enough,’ scolded Leo as she straightened up again. Elinor groaned inwardly as Leo became fired up. ‘Somebody here clearly liked your painting so much they paid ten grand for it! Ten grand! It’s bloody fantastic. And there I was thinking we’d have to take your book to the British Museum soon to earn you some kind of a living!’
‘What are you talking about, Leo?’ interposed Frederick, totally confused by this conversation. ‘What book?’
As Leo started to explain to Frederick how Elinor had discovered a potentially valuable book, Elinor caught sight of Barbara waving vigorously at her from the entrance to the gallery. Obediently, she walked over to her, grabbing another glass of champagne on the way.
‘Elinor, where did you go? I’ve had a lot of people asking me who you are,’ complained Barbara, instantly making Elinor feel bad for escaping temporarily from the polite chit-chat. ‘They’ve been so intrigued with your work. And I hear one of your paintings has sold too! That’s wonderful, darling!’
‘I know! I still can’t quite believe it. I’m struggling to imagine a painting of a surfer would be of interest to anyone.’
‘It’s certainly an unusual subject but you’ve done it beautifully. You deserve to sell both those paintings. They’re absolute masterpieces.’
Elinor blushed, not used to getting such lavish praise from someone as acclaimed as Barbara.
‘Barbara doesn’t hand out such fulsome compliments very often. You’ve clearly impressed her,’ said a quiet voice in Elinor’s ear.
Elinor looked up and smiled at Tony who was standing next to her, looking smart in a navy suit and a pale blue tie. Elinor was finding it increasingly funny to see everyone so dressed up. It seemed to add to the superficiality of the evening. All of them were acting a part that bore no relation to their everyday reality.
‘Have you just arrived, Tony?’ asked Barbara.
‘We have,’ affirmed Tony, cordially.
Hearing Tony say ‘we’, Elinor peered behind him and saw Jennifer standing there, looking absolutely stunning as usual in a full-length, light blue dress. The soft chiffon material floated downwards in loose, swirling layers. It was the kind of dress that would have made Elinor look like a frumpy matron but on Jennifer, who was tall and slim, the garment looked regal and imposing. Jennifer and Elinor smiled politely at each other, Elinor assimilating Jennifer’s presence with mixed feelings. She was pretty sure that Tony and Jennifer were only mates, but there’d always be a niggling doubt in the back of Elinor’s mind telling her that they could conceivably be something more. It didn’t seem possible to Elinor that any red-blooded male wouldn’t be physically attracted to a natural beauty like Jennifer.
‘You need to go and look at the exhibition and see if you can reach into those deep pockets of yours, Tony,’ teased Barbara.
Tony grinned at her affectionately, his eyes creasing at the corners in friendly amusement. As more guests came up to talk to Barbara and Elinor, Jennifer and Tony moved off in tandem to saunter around the gallery.
By the time the crowd had died down slightly, Elinor had managed to work her way through five glasses of champagne, three of orange juice, and numerous canapés. That’s it, she thought, as she gazed down at her bloated stomach, I have to get back into my running tomorrow. Since she’d started working on the mural at The Hut she hadn’t done any exercise and she was worried she was going to lose all the fitness she’d built up so persistently over the preceding months.
Weariness was overwhelming her. She’d spent the better part of six hours standing on a ladder in The Hut earlier that day, and now spending the entire evening standing in her high heels was killing her legs. After a quick survey of the room, she decided to give herself some much-needed respite and disappeared into the storage room at the back of the gallery. She’d been in there earlier in the evening and had spotted a comfortable chair to sit down on.
She sank gratefully into the cushioned chair as soon as she walked into the cluttered room and quickly removed her high-heeled shoes, ruefully observing the red lines imprinted on the skin of her feet. She leant her head backwards, closing her eyes with a relieved sigh. Before long, she found herself drifting off into blessed slumber so she didn’t hear the door to the room open forty minutes later.
She was woken up by the sound of giggles resonating close to her. She opened her eyes and stared in shock at the little crowd in front of her. Frederick, Leo, Barbara, Tony and Jennifer were watching her with a great deal of hilarity.
Elinor sat up hurriedly, feeling a deep blush creeping up her cheeks as she strived to pull herself together. She quickly flattened her hair and reached for her shoes before remembering she’d tossed them to the other side of the room in disgust.
‘Are you looking for these?’ asked Tony humorously, dangling the pair of silver stilettos in front of her.
Elinor grabbed them ungraciously, quickly putting them on to cover up her ungainly feet, by now red and swollen. To cap it all off, the toes of her tights had ripped open and she had a huge ladder working its way up her leg.
‘Has everyone gone?’ she asked eventually, looking up at the small crowd of spectators.
‘Yes, dear. Everyone’s gone. It’s been a wonderful evening. I’m just sorry you missed the end of it. We didn’t know where you’d got to but thankfully someone said they thought they’d seen you come in here. Otherwise you could’ve been locked up for the night!’ exclaimed Barbara, looking distressed at the thought.
The others clearly didn’t feel a similar concern. It didn’t escape Elinor’s notice that they were all looking like they were gallantly trying not to laugh at her. She was going to have to tell José about this tomorrow. It was almost as though she was following in his footsteps by falling asleep on the job, although with considerably less danger to the public in her case.
She stood up and stretched into a big yawn.
‘I’m sorry to have missed the end of the show but I think the six hours of painting at The Hut finished me off today. I’m definitely ready to go home now.’
‘Good. That means poor Godfrey can lock up his art gallery and we can all go home for some well-deserved rest,’ said Barbara firmly.
Godfrey, who was the gallery owner, poked his head in the door.
‘OK, everyone? Ready to go home now?’
Everyone murmured their assent and as one they all walked back out into the main gallery.
After effusive thanks and goodbyes to Godfrey they all split up, Elinor and Leo getting into Leo’s old Volvo to drive home to Trenouth. Before they drove off, Barbara bent down quickly to speak to Elinor through the car window.
‘Elinor, I want you back in the studio soon. You need to immerse yourself into making paintings again. You’re much too talented to be wasting your time on a café mural.’
Flattered, Elinor nodded her agreement.
‘Sure, I’ll be back at the studio soon. I promise. Thanks for everything, Barbara. You just earned me seven thousand pounds tonight.’
‘No, Elinor,’ corrected Barbara adamantly. ‘You just earned yourself seven thousand pounds.’
Barbara then stood back and waved as Leo and Elinor drove off.
Watching Barbara in her side mirror, Elinor saw her tall, solitary figure standing for a long moment under the street light, diminishing slowly as the car sped away until she was just a tiny dot on the horizon.