“I never thought I’d enjoy unpacking crates so much,” Maris told Dinah. “The last time I did it, Angela gave me shit for being so slow. Remember?”
“I remember,” said Dinah. “You got off easy. She’s been on my case for months.”
“When’s she coming back, by the way? Does she let you know or does she just surprise you?”
“She lets me know, thank God. Otherwise I’d be in a constant state of anxiety.”
“I don’t know why she treats you so badly. You’re Peter’s sister, after all.”
“His half-sister,” said Dinah, “by a Chinese mother.”
“Meaning you had the same father. But I knew that. Do you remember your father?”
“Oh, yes, I remember him well. He was very much in love with my mother. She was much younger than him and very beautiful. At least, I thought so. Maybe I imagined the whole thing, but I always thought it was a big love affair between them.”
“So he left Peter’s mother for her?”
“Oh, no. She was his mistress. You didn’t know that?”
“I guess not. I always figured she was his second wife. Silly me,” said Maris, making a face.
“It was very common then,” said Dinah. “I was born ten years after Peter. His mother, Henny, knew about me, but didn’t acknowledge either me or my mother.”
“Henny?” said Maris.
“Yes,” Dinah laughed. “Henrietta, I think. She and Father were married in England in the fifties. I have Peter’s photo albums. We’ll sit down sometime and have a look at them.”
“I’d love that,” said Maris. “It sounds like a fas-cinating story.”
“It is,” said Dinah. “Believe me.”
Maris had started coming into the gallery every day with Dinah and helping out. There was plenty to do because Angela was always sending a new shipment. She was relentless and was constantly on the move, making new contacts and milking old ones. Sometimes Dinah had instructions to hold shipments until Angela came, in which case they were stored in the back room or in a locker Dinah had leased when the back room filled up.
“I think she doesn’t trust me to price it right or display it,” said Dinah. “And of course, Peter always called up the customers when he thought there was something they would like. Although I do remember that she didn’t trust him to open all the shipments, either.”
“Control freak,” said Maris.
“Big time.”
They sent Dinah’s cousin Lim out to get lunch while they continued unpacking, dusting and polishing, discussing the displays, and deciding on pricing. Dinah was grateful for Maris’s help with the displays. She seemed to have a good eye for it, the way Peter had, sensing what would show better where and next to what. For her part, Maris found herself enjoying the work. She felt useful for a change and it felt good to carry on with what Peter had been doing. It was like keeping his memory alive. It was still very much his gallery.
Maris liked Lim — she called her “Slim” because she was so tiny, smaller even than Dinah — and Lim thought Maris was wonderful. A real artist. Lim was impressed whenever one of the artists came into the gallery. She would run out to get fresh buns and make their favourite tea, treating the visit as a special occasion.
“She’s young,” said Maris. “Give her a few years and she’ll get over it. Be prepared to pick up the pieces when she discovers we have feet of clay. It could be crushing. I’m thinking nervous breakdown, major depression at the very least.”
Dinah laughed. “You know what would be really funny?” Maris shook her head. “If Angela comes back and starts giving you a hard time. I can picture Lim turning into a Rottweiler and letting Angela have it — right between the eyes. Wouldn’t that be great?”
“You’re scaring me, Dinah,” said Maris. “Maybe you need a holiday.”
“Actually,” Dinah agreed, “I probably do. Now that you’re back, maybe I’ll just do that.”
“All right by me,” said Maris. “I’d be happy to manage things for a while. I’m sure Slim and I could do very well. I think we’ll try and double sales, just for the fun of it.”
“On second thought,” said Dinah, “maybe I’ll wait. I don’t want to be out of a job when I come back.”
Maris had been back in Singapore a month when Axel Thorssen walked into the gallery. Dinah spotted him first and thought he was a good-looking guy, but not the usual type of customer to amble in off the street. When Maris came out of the back room carrying a carving of a fertility goddess from Indonesia, Dinah saw her eyes widen when she spotted the tall, fair-haired man. Maris looked over at her and smiled, then mouthed the word “cute.”
Dinah went up to him and said, “Can I help you with anything, sir?”
Axel said, “I’m kind of new at this, but I liked what I saw through the window and thought I’d come in and have a closer look.”
Maris was listening as she set the fertility goddess on a pedestal. She thought she detected a Scandinavian accent. Either that or German, she wasn’t sure.
“Are you interested in something that hangs on the wall, or an object, say, pottery or a carving?” Dinah was saying.
“I think maybe an object would suit me better,” said Axel.
“Are you living in Singapore?” said Dinah.
“No, just here on business. I live in Sweden.”
Right the first time, thought Maris. Scandinavian. The accent was a little softer, more lilting than German.
“We ship to Sweden,” said Dinah. “In fact, we ship all over the world.”
“How long have you been here in Singapore? The gallery, I mean.”
“A long time,” said Dinah. “My brother opened the gallery in 1989.”
“That would be Peter Stone, of Peter Stone Gallery? Like the sign says?”
“Yes. Peter Stone.”
“Is he around?”
“No, I’m afraid my brother passed away nearly a year ago.”
“I’m sorry,” said Axel. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s all right. I’m slowly getting used to it.” Dinah smiled. “I’m Dinah, by the way. And this is my associate, Maris Cousins. She’s a painter.”
“Pleased to meet you both,” said Axel. “I’m Axel Thorssen. Future collector, perhaps.”
“You’ve chosen an excellent place to start, Mr. Thorssen,” said Maris. “Dinah and I can guide you gently and painlessly through the process.”
“I’d like that,” said Axel. “And, please, it’s Axel.”
“Where would you like to begin?” said Dinah. “Should we be talking about age, colour, shape, basic material?”
“Whose?” asked Axel. “Mine or yours?”
They both laughed and Maris smiled. Sense of humour, she thought. Or, at least, trying to be funny.
“Maybe we should be talking price range,” said Axel. “I’m not a wealthy man.”
“You don’t need to be wealthy to be a collector,” said Dinah. “Especially at the beginning.”
“And later?”
“Well … if you get the bug …”
“There’s a bug? Uh-oh. Then I’m in trouble because I usually catch whatever’s going round.”
Dinah laughed again. “Would you like some tea, Axel? We have green, oolong, black, and orange pekoe.”
“Ah, so we’re starting with colour. I’ll have green, thank you.”
Maris smiled and went back to ask Slim to bring them green tea for three.
When she returned, Dinah was showing Axel the Indonesian fertility goddess. The figure was kneeling with her hands on her large belly; her enormous breasts were shaped like coconuts with the nipples pointing skyward. “This is a relatively new piece,” said Dinah, “carved from chinaberry wood from Bali. We have priced it at 125 Singapore dollars, which is around seventy Euros. Not expensive at all.”
“It’s exquisite,” said Axel, picking it up. “It feels solid.”
“It is,” said Dinah. “Chinaberry is a fairly dense hardwood of very high quality. It’s resistant to humidity, which is why the Balinese use it for their carvings. Although it’s a coarse wood, when properly finished it has a beautiful smooth texture and interesting grain. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, it’s quite remarkable,” said Axel. “I think I’m getting the hang of this collecting thing. You see a piece and you have to have it.”
Dinah laughed. “You’re a collector at heart, Axel. I can feel it.”
Just then Lim walked in with the tea, and Dinah invited Axel to sit with her and Maris to talk about some of the finer points of collecting.
“You mean Visa or MasterCard, I imagine,” said Axel.
He just gets funnier, thought Maris. Better not to encourage him.
“Just kidding,” he said. “I’m smarter than I look.”
“That’s a relief,” said Maris and smiled at him. “Just kidding,” she added.
“Maris,” said Dinah, “Mr. Thorssen is a potential client. Don’t be cheeky or we’ll lose him.”
“Axel,” said Axel. “And I think I like the way you do business. The personal touch and all. It’s the most fun I’ve had in weeks. I don’t suppose you’d both consider having dinner with me sometime. Maybe even tonight. I’m free, and I’m sure you’ll be hungry later.”
“Well, that depends,” said Dinah.
“On what?”
“On whether you’re just interested in us, or in us and our stuff,” said Maris.
“Oh, both,” said Axel. “Definitely both.”