Love (7 page)

“
He’s famous, you know. Travels all over the world then writes about it. I’m always asking him when he’s going to write about the Cove. We could do with some more tourists.”

“
I don’t think he’s that sort of travel writer,” said Karen.

Sandy looked disappointed,
“I expect it’s all much the same. Anyway, he’s gone up to London, quite suddenly really. He just stopped in on his way out yesterday morning and cancelled his papers.”

‘
did he say when he was coming back?” asked Karen. “Only he leant me a torch and I wanted to return it.” She decided against mentioning the coat as Sandy would wonder how on earth she had come to borrow it and she didn’t want to be married off by the local gossips

“
No dear, he didn’t,” sighed Sandy. “But he’s always back and forth. So who knows when he’ll be back again?”

So much for keeping him at arm
’s length thought Karen as she resolved to get on with her painting and not waste time thinking about men. Her only outings would be the statutory dog walk. She would put Adam out of her thoughts completely and concentrate on what was important in her life - her art work.

By Saturday Karen was feeling quite pleased with herself. She found some old photos of her family in one of her grandmother’s dresser drawers. She picked out one of the whole family on the beach. She must have been about two or three, her sister Amanda, five and her brother James, seven. Her parents looked so much younger and more relaxed as she and her brother and sister built sandcastles and moats. James looked very serious with his glasses and his pot belly, Karen laughed to herself when she saw the photo. Her grandparents also looked happy as they sat under the big beach umbrella with her parents.

Her grandfather had been a rather quiet man, especially in comparison to her
grandmother who was still the life and soul of the party. Her grandfather died when Karen was only ten and so her memory of him was hazy. He left Gran well-provided for and able to go back to her first love - painting. Not that her grandmother hadn’t been happy with her married life. She had been happy as a wife and mother to listen to her talk about it. But Karen never understood why her grandmother stopped painting for so long when she obviously loved it so.

When Nick called Karen at teatime to remind her about their date for that evening she
was busy blocking in her family portrait and felt quite reluctant to tear herself away from the studio. She dragged herself away from her painting and went upstairs to look through her clothes for something suitable for an opening night.

She found a long black jersey dress that she had brought just in case, not that she had really expected to wear it but her mother always said it was best to be prepared for every eventuality. Luckily it was not too formal but cut very simply with a low scoop neck, long narrow sleeves and the soft fabric clung flatteringly to her slim waist and hips. She d
ecided on a pair of black ballet shoes to complete the outfit instead of her usual boots. She preferred heels but remembered that Nick was not much taller than her and didn’t want to tower over him. She brushed out her shoulder-length hair to a high shine and as a concession to the spirit of an opening evening put on some of her new pinky-brown lipstick. She didn’t normally wear much make-up. Her naturally clear complexion meant she didn’t the need powder or foundation and her arched eyebrows and thick black lashes saved a fortune in mascara.

The effect of the black dress was a little stark. Karen remembered that she
’d brought one of her favourite pieces of jewellery: an intricate Celtic knot in silver with a serpentine centre which one of her ex-boyfriends had made for her in his final year of studying jewellery design. She slipped the leather cord over her head and admired the unusual green stone in the centre. It contrasted well with the black of her dress and the creamy whiteness of her skin. With a shiver she remembered his somewhat unusual tastes in the bedroom, with a lot of leather ties involved. But his body was astonishing, completely decorated with intricate Celtic tribal tattoos.

Karen settled Humphrey down in the kitchen in his spanking clean bed next to the Aga and left him a giant dog
chew to compensate for his lonely evening. She remembered that she hadn’t brought her smart long winter coat and that her old ski-jacket did not look terribly good over a dress, in point of fact it looked quite disgusting. Then she remembered that she still had Adam’s peacoat. It was a bit naughty to wear it out without asking but he had loaned it to her and he wasn’t around to ask.

She still found herself looking over at his house each evening and again at bedtime but she
’d seen no lights nor any signs of life. She wondered why he hadn’t told her he was going away. He’d been quite clear about his intentions that afternoon, or so she had thought. Perhaps she’d misread the signals and he really was merely being neighbourly for her grandmother’s sake. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’d led her on and then dumped her. It heightened her resolve to guard against his charms.

With a final goodbye to Humphrey, Karen made for the garage. Gran
’s yellow mini was a joy to drive and Karen climbed in feeling that the evening might not be so bad after all. She backed out of the narrow drive and stopped at the top to close the gates. Still no sign of life at Adam’s house. The Pengellys, however, were taking advantage of the windless evening to make a large smelly bonfire. Karen wondered if it was legal to burn plastic, it was certainly one way to prevent the seagulls from getting the rubbish! She waved in their direction and headed for Marazion.

It was a fine clear night and the sky was full of stars. Karen found she was becoming quite attached to country life, where she lived in London it was so light at night that she could seldom see the stars. It made her long to do a painting of the night with a gleaming moon, thousands of stars and the outline of the
Marazion palms against the horizon. The castle on St Michaels Mount stood out darkly against the sky as she came over the top of the hill and she thought how, as a little girl, it had always seemed to her an enchanted place.

Parking was always a problem in the narrow streets of the little village of Marazion. But eventually, after much driving up and down narrow alleys, Karen was able to squeeze the mini into a tiny space. Thank goodness Gran didn’t drive one of those awful four-wheel drive all-terrain vehicles. The gallery had been converted from an old meeting-house. The granite facade was still fairly forbidding but once inside Karen stopped to admire the high ceilinged space. There was quite a crush of people handing in coats so while she waited in the queue she looked about for Nick. Just as she was handing her coat in, she felt a hand on her arm and turned around to face Nick.

“
Karen! Come and meet everyone,” he said taking her by the arm and guiding her through the throng of people to the far side of the gallery where a large group stood laughing and chatting animatedly in front of a large painting. Not standing on ceremony, Nick pulled her into the group, “Karen, this is my sister Penny and her charming daughter, my niece, Megan.”

Karen
shook hands with a pleasant looking blond woman of about thirty and a tiny blond girl of about three.

“
Oh, 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 wouldn’t know,” said Karen. She always found men who admired other women ostentatiously when they were with one rather irritating. In fact, she was not sure that she and Nick had much in common at all and what was worse, she was stuck with him for dinner as well.

Nick was keen to get downstairs but Karen made a point of studying
, at some length, all the paintings on the upper gallery. Nick was clearly bored by her scholarly analysis but could hardly abandon her. When they finally went downstairs, Karen had lost sight of Adam’s party. Maybe they’d gone. She didn’t want Adam to see her here with Nick. It sounded ridiculous, even to herself. Could it be that she was ashamed of being seen with him? She chided herself for being such a snob. Somehow, the fact that he had that gorgeous golden creature on his arm, only made things worse.

She was beginning to relax when, horror of
horrors, there was Nick greeting Adam and the blonde enthusiastically. Karen cringed inwardly as Nick pulled her forwards saying to Adam, “I managed to persuade Karen your lovely neighbour to leave her life’s work for a few hours and come out with me.”

“
Hello Karen,” said Adam. “Let me introduce you to Morgan Bosman. Morgan this is Karen Packer, Iris’s granddaughter.”

The couple whom Karen had seen with Adam earlier joined
them. “And here,” continued Adam, “are my agent David Dowling and Glenna Dowling.”

David and Glenna smiled and shook hands with Karen and Nick. Morgan merely nodded vaguely at each of them. Her interest was clearly only in Adam.

“Can’t we go and eat soon, darling?” Morgan asked Adam. “I’m desperate after that ghastly car trip. The food on the motorways is utterly atrocious.”

“
Why don’t you join us at the Hussar? It’s the new Hungarian restaurant, it certainly serves better grub than you get on the motorway, we’re all going there afterwards. I’m sure they can add a few chairs to our table,” Nick said eagerly.

Karen was reminded of a puppy, Nick was so anxious to have them join the party. She hoped with all her heart that th
ey would refuse. She could not bear the prospect of an evening with Adam and the icy Morgan. Luckily, someone heard her prayers.