A Sudden Change of Heart. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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СКАЧАТЬ The furniture, the fabrics you have chosen, this Aubusson rug, everything is perfection. But –’

      ‘But what?’ she cut in before he could complete his sentence.

      ‘The room is incomplete, my dear. A room is never finished until it has –’

      ‘Art,’ she supplied, and then immediately laughed when she saw the amusement in his face, the twinkle in his eye. ‘I need paintings on these walls, Hercule, I know that. But what kind of paintings? That’s one of the reasons I wanted you to see the setting, to help me make some decisions about art. Shall I use a Picasso? Or a Gauguin? Or go for a modern work, such as Larry Rivers? A Van Gogh? A Renoir, maybe? On the other hand, I could look for something really old, like a pair of Canalettos.’

      ‘A Van Gogh or a Gauguin would give the room strength, but I do not think it is a strength you require here, Claire. And Canalettos would be wrong. A soft painting would be the ideal choice, something in the pastel tones. It would underscore the stillness, the sense of…quietude you have created. Also, this space has a light look. Airy. A Renoir, most definitely. Oui. Parfait.’

      ‘Perfect, yes, I agree. But where am I going to find one? And who would lend me one for the photography? People don’t normally let their Renoirs out of their sight.’

      Hercule Junot smiled. ‘There is a possibility that I might be able to find one for you. A few months ago, I was shown a Renoir which was for sale –’ He paused, shrugged lightly, raised his hands. ‘Well, I do not know, chérie, perhaps it has been sold.’

      ‘If it hasn’t, do you think the owner would agree to lend it to me?’ she asked, her face eager.

      ‘Mais oui. The owner is a friend, a former client…I am happy to speak with her. If she still has it, she will allow me to borrow it. For a few hours. If that is enough time for you, Claire. Because of its great value, she would not want to leave the painting here in the studio overnight.’

      ‘And I wouldn’t want it to be here overnight! Not unless I slept with it. I wouldn’t want the responsibility, although we will insure it, of course, even if it’s here for only a few hours. Too risky not to.’ Claire stepped out of the set, went to join Hercule Junot, who was standing on the studio floor. ‘When can you speak to your friend?’

      ‘I shall be happy to telephone her this evening.’

      Claire said, ‘My lead time is three to four months, as you know, and I’m shooting this for the March issue. It’s going to be the cover shot.’

      ‘If she has not sold it, that might be an inducement for her to lend the Renoir. Having the exposure in the magazine could serve a purpose.’

      Claire nodded. ‘Good thought. What’s the painting like?’ She grinned. ‘Although who needs to know that, a Renoir’s a Renoir.’

      Hercule’s face had lit up at the thought of the painting, and he beamed at her. ‘It is beautiful, bien sûr, a semi-nude, a bather sitting on a rock. But this is not a large painting, Claire. It would only be suitable to hang over the fireplace or above the console. You will need a larger one…for the wall where the sofa is placed.’

      ‘I’m pretty sure I have one already. My assistant found a Seurat at one of the galleries, and they’re prepared to lend it to us.’

      ‘That is good. A Seurat will be compatible. It will sit well with the Renoir. I shall telephone you tomorrow, after I’ve spoken with my friend.’ He picked up his dark overcoat, which was thrown over the back of a wooden chair. ‘I must return to my bureau, Claire. Will you come with me? Can I take you to the magazine? Or are you staying here at the studio?’

      ‘No, I’m not, Hercule. I’ve finished for today. I’ll just have a word with my staff who are still working on another set, and then I’ll come with you. I’d love a lift to the Plaza Athénée, if that’s not out of your way.’

      ‘Ce n’est pas un problème, Claire.’

      Claire had known Hercule Junot for twelve years, having met him when she first came to live in Paris as a young bride. They had been seated next to one another at a posh dinner party, and the renowned older man and the unimportant young woman had taken to each other at once. He had found her irreverent, saucy, provocative, and challenging, and her knowledge of art and antiques, coupled with her journalistic flair for telling a good story, had been impressive. She had been the most interesting and entertaining dinner companion he had had in many a year, a sheer delight to be with.

      Hercule Junot, who was now seventy-six years old, was one of the most famous interior designers in the world, on a par with his peers Stéphane Boudin, a fellow Parisian, and the Italian, Renzo Mongiardino. Renowned for his elegant and glamorous formal interiors, he had great taste, immense flair, a discerning and critical eye, and was considered to be one of the foremost experts on Fine French Furniture. Another area of his formidable expertise was Impressionism, most especially the paintings of Van Gogh and Gauguin, the latter a great personal favourite.

      Rather than lessening as he grew older, his business seemed to be flourishing even more than ever, and he was in constant demand by those who appreciated his extraordinary gift for creating tasteful but eyecatching interiors full of style, wit and comfort; those who had the vast amounts of money required to pay for the antiques and art of the highest pedigree and quality which he favoured in his designs.

      Claire had been at a crossroads in her career when they had met. She wanted to continue working as a journalist, but she felt more drawn than ever to the world of visual and decorative arts.

      At that first meeting over dinner she had found herself confiding her concerns about her career and the route it should take, and Hercule had made up his mind that he must somehow help her.

      The following morning he had talked to a number of influential people, pulled a few strings, and in the process had contrived to get her a job on Decorative Arts and Design, a glossy magazine devoted to art, antiques, and interior design which was popular with the French and with the international public. It was owned by a friend of his who had long owed him a favour.

      Claire had started out in a most lowly position, that of caption writer, but such was her creative talent and energy that within eight years she had risen to the top of the hierarchy of the magazine.

      Four years ago she had been named publisher and editor-in-chief, answerable to no one but the owner. Hercule Junot, not unnaturally, was proud of her success and the name she had made for herself.

      In the ensuing years since that first meeting, most propitious for her, these two had remained staunch friends, and Hercule had become her mentor. Claire trusted his judgement about everything in the world of design, and whenever she was doubtful about a project she ran to him for his opinion and advice.

      Such had been the case today; a sudden lack of confidence about the set, an unprecedented occurrence for her, had induced her to invite him to the photographic studio to give his opinion.

      The set had been painstakingly designed and skilfully installed with the utmost care; nonetheless, she had been unusually critical of her own work when she had seen the finished result. She had also been suddenly hesitant and indecisive about the art she should choose to complete the room.

      Hercule had been impressed by the beauty and quality of the formal salon and the splendid choices she had made, and more so than he had actually said. Now he wondered if this had been an error on his part. СКАЧАТЬ