PORTRAIT OF A LADY

                                                                             

                                                                             Chapter Eighteen

                                                                              The Last Viewing

 

It was Friday; the last opportunity to view the paintings prior to the 'sale' the following day. Steve was unchallenged by the security man; indeed as he entered Steve offered a pleasant "Good Afternoon," to the man, who in turn responded with a sharp tap on his forehead and a "Morning Sir."

          Inevitably Mrs Pollard was there and they greeted each other in a friendly manner. After a few general pleasantries it was Mrs Pollard who brought their thinking back to the business of the final viewing day.

          "Are you going to bid tomorrow?" She asked..

          Steve didn't answer and after a little he heard her repeat the question but somewhat more curtly than the last time, and he thought she was annoyed with him. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. I did not intend to be rude but to tell you the truth I'm at a bit of a loss to know how to answer you."

          "Oh; it seems fairly straightforward to me. Either you are or you are not."

          "I wish it were straightforward," he said, "but it is not."

          "I thought you were very keen."

          "Oh I would be to own it’ but not to buy it."

          "You make it sound so mysterious Mr Farrah, but it seems like a simple choice to me."

          Steve was at a loss. How was he going to tell this lady, to whom he undoubtedly felt an attraction, that he was really a penniless tramp with no prospects of ever being anything else. There was only one way and that was to tell her the truth, or at least part of it. And then to suffer the consequences.

          "You see, to buy a painting is fine. At my peak I was glad that people were happy to pay big money for my pictures. But to own one is when it is in your heart; in your mind."

          "I'm afraid you've lost me." Mrs Pollard answered somewhat curtly as she turned back to the picture.

          "I'm sorry; I seem to have offended you. Absolutely not my intention. I'm simply trying to tell you that I have no money."

          "Then why are you here at this auction?"

          "Ah! There you have me. You see, I came across this picture by chance and I fell in love with it. It is speaking to me, even though I'm not sure what it is saying. But by tomorrow someone will have bought it and I will never see it again."

          "What if that person turns out to be me?"

          "Oh, I hope it is Mrs Pollard; I really hope so. You seem to love it as much as me; but you'll need a deep pocket."

          "Oh, why do you say that?"

          "This gallery is well known and has links with several London galleries. There will be agents looking for the good stuff and I know this picture will be 'viewed' favourably."

          She smiled at his little pun, but her face then became serious. "You seem to know more than you are telling me." She said.

          "Yes I suppose so. But when I was at my prime I used to exhibit my pictures here in this very gallery, and many of them finished up in London. People would pay the earth for them down there."

          "Oh did they? She smiled, but this time with coquettish attitude. "How much earth?"

          Steve smiled back trying to mirror her girlish grin. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

          "I think I might."

          "Well," Steve pondered. Then he decided. "It's quite possible that after the sale I will never see you again," he started. "This is about thirty years ago remember, so here we go; the highest price ever paid for one of my paintings was Eleven Thousand Pounds."

          Mrs Pollard was stunned. "But that's a fortune In today's money that's.., that's ..." She stopped trying to convert then to now, and changed tacks " and you gave it all up, but why?

          "You are asking me to tell you the story of my life Mrs Pollard. We will have to know each other a lot better before I do that."

          "Young man I do believe you are flirting with me."

          "If you did know me better you would know how far off the truth you are; but I do thank you for the 'young man' bit."

          Mrs Pollard smiled. She of course knew nothing about the Salvation Army lady, but due to her skill with the scissors Steve could no longer hide behind the mask of hair which hitherto had covered his face, and therefore could not hide the fact that he was blushing slightly.