Read Online Breaking the Rules by Barbara Taylor Bradford - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford
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other woman’s arm. ‘All your hard work has paid off.’
Geo’s face was wreathed in smiles. She said softly, sounding pleased, ‘Thank you. I’m so thrilled you like it. I value your judgement.’
The whistling of the kettle startled them both and, swinging around, Geo hurried across the studio, heading for the kitchen.
For a moment longer, M lingered in front of the painting, continuing to study it, admiring it; she had become somewhat awed by Geo’s work, understanding that her friend was an artist of enormous talent who needed a break, just as she herself did.
Sighing under her breath, M went out to the kitchen, hoping that Geo’s exhibition would be a stunning success: certainly she deserved nothing less.
The two women sat in the windowed area of the kitchen, sipping their mugs of tea, talking about the upcoming exhibition to be held at a well-known gallery in December. And then, abruptly, Geo changed the subject when she said, ‘I’m glad we’ve become friends, M. I like you such a lot.’ She shook her head wonderingly, bit her lip. ‘When I remember how foolish I was, suspecting you and Dax, I feel like a real fool. I apologize again, M.’
‘Don’t be so silly, Geo, I’ve forgotten it.’
Geo smiled, but she was fully aware that M hadn’t forgotten it. She knew she had managed to frighten M, and frighten her very badly, and she had a strange feeling that this fear still lingered. M had insisted that they install a new alarm system, and she’d had no option but to go along with it, splitting the bill with M. Well, the old system had been on the blink, and essentially M was right, wanting their security.
Aware of the growing silence, Geo now said swiftly, with a laugh, ‘I have to admit it was jealousy of all things—silly, stupid jealousy …’
M nodded her understanding, then glanced away, stared out of the window at the little back garden, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly sitting up straighter in the chair, she murmured, ‘In jealousy there is more self-love than love.’
Geo was taken aback, but after a moment’s reflection she exclaimed, ‘There’s a great deal of wisdom in your words, M.’
‘Oh, no, not my words,’ M responded, shaking her head. ‘They were written by the Duc de La Rochefoucauld in the seventeenthcentury. Still, I believe they’re as applicable today as they were then.’
‘Absolutely,’ Geo agreed, and took a sip of the hot, sweet tea, wondering how M could remember that obscure but interesting quote. On the other hand, the young English-woman sitting opposite her was filled to overflowing with knowledge, and about so many different things. She could talk expertly about books and plays, movies and opera, and she knew a lot about art. Geo admired her for all this, and also because she was so brave, coming alone to New York, wanting to make it on her own. M’s aspirations were similar to her own, and Dax too shared the same kind of ambition.
‘How did you learn so much about art, M? I mean, you speak so expertly—yes, that’s the best word—about Renoir, Monet, Bonnard, the Impressionists, Post-Impressionists and Turner, particularly Turner. Even I don’t know everything you do.’
‘From my sister,’ M responded swiftly. ‘She took me to a lot of art galleries even when I was a kid, and she instilled a great deal of knowledge in me. Force-fed me, I suppose you could call it. I’ve always said that children learn so much from exposure to the arts in general, and certainly my exposure to all the great galleries in England and France helped to create a love of paintings in me.’
M gave Geo a big smile. ‘I can admire, but I can’t do it—paint, I mean—but you can, Geo. You’re enormously talented, and don’t ever forget that, and you’ll see, your exhibition will be a tremendous success. And you’ll be on your way.’
‘Oh, God, I hope so, and all I can add to that is, from your mouth to God’s ears.’ Leaning across the table, Geo
Geo’s face was wreathed in smiles. She said softly, sounding pleased, ‘Thank you. I’m so thrilled you like it. I value your judgement.’
The whistling of the kettle startled them both and, swinging around, Geo hurried across the studio, heading for the kitchen.
For a moment longer, M lingered in front of the painting, continuing to study it, admiring it; she had become somewhat awed by Geo’s work, understanding that her friend was an artist of enormous talent who needed a break, just as she herself did.
Sighing under her breath, M went out to the kitchen, hoping that Geo’s exhibition would be a stunning success: certainly she deserved nothing less.
The two women sat in the windowed area of the kitchen, sipping their mugs of tea, talking about the upcoming exhibition to be held at a well-known gallery in December. And then, abruptly, Geo changed the subject when she said, ‘I’m glad we’ve become friends, M. I like you such a lot.’ She shook her head wonderingly, bit her lip. ‘When I remember how foolish I was, suspecting you and Dax, I feel like a real fool. I apologize again, M.’
‘Don’t be so silly, Geo, I’ve forgotten it.’
Geo smiled, but she was fully aware that M hadn’t forgotten it. She knew she had managed to frighten M, and frighten her very badly, and she had a strange feeling that this fear still lingered. M had insisted that they install a new alarm system, and she’d had no option but to go along with it, splitting the bill with M. Well, the old system had been on the blink, and essentially M was right, wanting their security.
Aware of the growing silence, Geo now said swiftly, with a laugh, ‘I have to admit it was jealousy of all things—silly, stupid jealousy …’
M nodded her understanding, then glanced away, stared out of the window at the little back garden, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly sitting up straighter in the chair, she murmured, ‘In jealousy there is more self-love than love.’
Geo was taken aback, but after a moment’s reflection she exclaimed, ‘There’s a great deal of wisdom in your words, M.’
‘Oh, no, not my words,’ M responded, shaking her head. ‘They were written by the Duc de La Rochefoucauld in the seventeenthcentury. Still, I believe they’re as applicable today as they were then.’
‘Absolutely,’ Geo agreed, and took a sip of the hot, sweet tea, wondering how M could remember that obscure but interesting quote. On the other hand, the young English-woman sitting opposite her was filled to overflowing with knowledge, and about so many different things. She could talk expertly about books and plays, movies and opera, and she knew a lot about art. Geo admired her for all this, and also because she was so brave, coming alone to New York, wanting to make it on her own. M’s aspirations were similar to her own, and Dax too shared the same kind of ambition.
‘How did you learn so much about art, M? I mean, you speak so expertly—yes, that’s the best word—about Renoir, Monet, Bonnard, the Impressionists, Post-Impressionists and Turner, particularly Turner. Even I don’t know everything you do.’
‘From my sister,’ M responded swiftly. ‘She took me to a lot of art galleries even when I was a kid, and she instilled a great deal of knowledge in me. Force-fed me, I suppose you could call it. I’ve always said that children learn so much from exposure to the arts in general, and certainly my exposure to all the great galleries in England and France helped to create a love of paintings in me.’
M gave Geo a big smile. ‘I can admire, but I can’t do it—paint, I mean—but you can, Geo. You’re enormously talented, and don’t ever forget that, and you’ll see, your exhibition will be a tremendous success. And you’ll be on your way.’
‘Oh, God, I hope so, and all I can add to that is, from your mouth to God’s ears.’ Leaning across the table, Geo
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