I’m very pleased to meet you,” said Penny. “I have heard so much about you from Nick and I’ve known your grandmother for ages. How is she by the way? I heard she was away on holiday.”
“Th ank you, I expect she’s having a lovely time,” replied Karen. ‘she was looking forward to the heat. You really have done wonders with this building.”
“ Not me,” demurred Penny. “Geoffrey, my husband, is the mover and shaker behind the gallery. You must meet him. But he’s busy either selling a painting or signing up a new painter. Nick, get Karen a glass of wine. Look, I’m sorry. It’s way past Megan’s bedtime, and I have to run her home and pick up the baby-sitter. But we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other at dinner.”
Karen looked surprised. She had not bargained on a dinner as well.
Seeing her reaction, Penny said, ‘trust old Nick not to tell you. We’re booked for a meal at the new Hungarian bistro around the corner from here. It’s jolly good, especially the Hortebagy pancakes. Don’t worry, you’ll love it and it will be a chance to meet Geoffrey. He has to eat too, after all.”
The minute Karen had Nick to herself she tackled him, “So, I gather we have a dinner date as well. Thank you for asking me.”
Nick look a bit abashed though his eyes twinkled, “It’s not really a date Karen, there’ll be a big group of us. You wouldn’t show me up in front of my family now, would you? I promised them a beautiful London artist and I can’t possibly find another one at this short notice. Please say you’ll come.”
Karen laughed. It seemed disagreeable to refuse and what else was she going to do? All dressed up and nowhere to go - she might as well give in gracefully. “All right, I accept. Dinner. Now let’s have a look at the paintings, that is why I came.”
Armed with large glasses of red wine, the pair inspected the art. Karen was surprised by the quality of the work. Admittedly, the subject matter was fairly conventional but there were some striking landscapes.
“ Let’s do the upstairs gallery,” said Nick. “I think Martha Goodwin is more your cup of tea.”
Karen followed him up the elegant spiral staircase to the balustraded mezzanine gallery which ran the length of the room. It must once have been the old choir stall. She didn’t like the paintings at all. It was funny how people thought that abstract or conceptual work, no matter how badly executed, was interesting as long as it could be summed up in a few sentences. She did not like to put a damper on Nick’s enthusiasm so she stood noncommittally by while he enthused about a large canvas covered in what looked painted black tin cans, entitled "Pollution".
As Nick rambled on, she looked down at the gallery below. More people were coming in all the time. Then, over by the coats, she spotted a tall familiar figure. It was Adam! What on earth was he doing here? He appeared to be talking to a couple of elegantly dressed people: a thick-set older man with greying curly hair and an attractive dark-haired woman. They were joined by a stunning blond woman who slipped her arm through Adam’s as they moved into the main gallery.
Karen felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She had thought she looked pretty good this evening but the woman on Adam’s arm had a style and finish which shrieked haute couture. Karen always rather envied women who managed to achieve that look of effortless elegance. Adam had certainly not mentioned any relationship to her but they hadn’t discussed their private lives in any great detail. She was sorry she’d come now. Still, she might manage to avoid them if she was lucky.
Just then, Nick, following her gaze, said, “Hey Karen, Adam Chancellor’s here. He’s got the place next to you. I hear he’s done an amazing conversion. Now there’s a commission I wouldn’t turn down. I wonder who the lovely lady is. He’s certainly a lucky bugger.”
“ I really
“Th ank you, I expect she’s having a lovely time,” replied Karen. ‘she was looking forward to the heat. You really have done wonders with this building.”
“ Not me,” demurred Penny. “Geoffrey, my husband, is the mover and shaker behind the gallery. You must meet him. But he’s busy either selling a painting or signing up a new painter. Nick, get Karen a glass of wine. Look, I’m sorry. It’s way past Megan’s bedtime, and I have to run her home and pick up the baby-sitter. But we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other at dinner.”
Karen looked surprised. She had not bargained on a dinner as well.
Seeing her reaction, Penny said, ‘trust old Nick not to tell you. We’re booked for a meal at the new Hungarian bistro around the corner from here. It’s jolly good, especially the Hortebagy pancakes. Don’t worry, you’ll love it and it will be a chance to meet Geoffrey. He has to eat too, after all.”
The minute Karen had Nick to herself she tackled him, “So, I gather we have a dinner date as well. Thank you for asking me.”
Nick look a bit abashed though his eyes twinkled, “It’s not really a date Karen, there’ll be a big group of us. You wouldn’t show me up in front of my family now, would you? I promised them a beautiful London artist and I can’t possibly find another one at this short notice. Please say you’ll come.”
Karen laughed. It seemed disagreeable to refuse and what else was she going to do? All dressed up and nowhere to go - she might as well give in gracefully. “All right, I accept. Dinner. Now let’s have a look at the paintings, that is why I came.”
Armed with large glasses of red wine, the pair inspected the art. Karen was surprised by the quality of the work. Admittedly, the subject matter was fairly conventional but there were some striking landscapes.
“ Let’s do the upstairs gallery,” said Nick. “I think Martha Goodwin is more your cup of tea.”
Karen followed him up the elegant spiral staircase to the balustraded mezzanine gallery which ran the length of the room. It must once have been the old choir stall. She didn’t like the paintings at all. It was funny how people thought that abstract or conceptual work, no matter how badly executed, was interesting as long as it could be summed up in a few sentences. She did not like to put a damper on Nick’s enthusiasm so she stood noncommittally by while he enthused about a large canvas covered in what looked painted black tin cans, entitled "Pollution".
As Nick rambled on, she looked down at the gallery below. More people were coming in all the time. Then, over by the coats, she spotted a tall familiar figure. It was Adam! What on earth was he doing here? He appeared to be talking to a couple of elegantly dressed people: a thick-set older man with greying curly hair and an attractive dark-haired woman. They were joined by a stunning blond woman who slipped her arm through Adam’s as they moved into the main gallery.
Karen felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She had thought she looked pretty good this evening but the woman on Adam’s arm had a style and finish which shrieked haute couture. Karen always rather envied women who managed to achieve that look of effortless elegance. Adam had certainly not mentioned any relationship to her but they hadn’t discussed their private lives in any great detail. She was sorry she’d come now. Still, she might manage to avoid them if she was lucky.
Just then, Nick, following her gaze, said, “Hey Karen, Adam Chancellor’s here. He’s got the place next to you. I hear he’s done an amazing conversion. Now there’s a commission I wouldn’t turn down. I wonder who the lovely lady is. He’s certainly a lucky bugger.”
“ I really
Similar Books
