Playing the Game. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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СКАЧАТЬ you know. I was very disappointed.’

      Before she could answer, Annette came hurrying in with a plate of canapés. ‘Marius, don’t chastise her! I’ve done that already!’

      ‘Well, of course you have,’ he remarked with a cheerful laugh, then asked, ‘So, who wants a glass of bubbly? Both of you, I hope. Certainly I’m going to have one.’

      ‘Can’t wait,’ Laurie answered, beginning to thaw out in front of the blazing fire. She was filled with happiness to be with them; she adored Annette and loved Marius, who had never been anything but very kind to her.

      ‘I’ll have one too,’ Annette said, and went and sat on the sofa. As Marius poured the champagne, she asked, ‘What time’s your plane this afternoon?’

      He glanced across at her, still pouring the wine. ‘I had a bit of luck a short while ago. Jimmy Musgrave has offered me a lift on his private jet.’

      ‘Who’s Jimmy Musgrave?’ Annette asked, a brow lifting. ‘Do I know him?’

      ‘No, you haven’t met him yet because he’s been in Los Angeles. He’s a new client of mine, came to me through one of my Hollywood contacts. He called to tell me he was flying to Barcelona later today and couldn’t see me next week. I said, what a coincidence, so am I. And he was quick to invite me to fly with him. He said he’d like my company, that we could “talk art", was the way he put it. To answer your question, I have to be at the airport at five.’

      ‘That was a lucky break.’ Annette accepted the flute of champagne from him and smiled. ‘It should be nice in Barcelona this weekend; you’ll be able to get a bit of sun.’

      Walking over to Laurie, he handed her the glass, then sat down in the chair next to her. ‘I doubt it,’ he murmured, addressing Annette. ‘I really do need to spend some time with the director of the Picasso Museum, and I want to do a good long walk through, to refresh my memory.’

      ‘How’s the book coming along?’ Laurie asked, referring to the one Marius was writing about the painter.

      ‘Rather better than I expected. It’s odd, Laurie, it just started to take off in the last six months or so. I’ve done more work in that time than I did the whole of the previous year. I think Picasso really comes alive on the pages at last. And by the way, ladies, I’ve decided to dedicate this book to the two of you – my very special muses.’

      ‘How lovely,’ Laurie cried, and raising her glass she said, ‘Here’s to your new book, Marius, and thank you for the dedication to us.’

      Annette said, ‘That’s nice of you, darling; yes, thank you, thank you very much.’

      A small silence fell between them; the three of them sat back, sipping their champagne, relaxing, enjoying being together in this beautiful room in front of the blazing fire on this cold day.

      It was Marius who broke the silence when he asked, ‘Are you still planning to drive down to Kent tomorrow? To review Christopher’s paintings?’

      ‘Yes. I must make some decisions. In fact, he must, too. I’ve got to start making my plans for the next auction.’

      ‘You’ve never actually said what else there is in his late uncle’s collection.’ Marius gave her a very direct, penetrating look. ‘Either there’s something really special or absolutely nothing at all. Come on, sweetheart, spill the beans.’

      Annette shook her head. ‘No, no, I’m not keeping secrets from you, if that’s what you’re suggesting,’ she instantly shot back, a frown knotting her brow. ‘And actually, I did tell you there were a couple of Impressionists, and also an important piece of sculpture. As for paintings, there’s a Cassatt and a Degas, and I did tell you.’

      Catching the nuance of irritation in her voice, he said, in a placating tone, ‘Come to think of it, that you did, I’d just forgotten. In fact, didn’t you say there was a Giacometti sculpture in the collection also?’

      ‘I did, and I know it’s valuable. Oh, and there’s a Cézanne. I admire his work, you know. For some reason it’s really dirty, therefore it must be cleaned. I can’t imagine what that uncle of Christopher’s was like. A careless man, I suppose, at least when it came to taking care of his art collection. Imagine neglecting a Rembrandt and a Cézanne. He didn’t even have the collection catalogued, at least as far as I know. And Christopher doesn’t know very much more than I do. Apparently he wasn’t close to his uncle, hardly knew him, but since there was no other heir, he inherited the collection.’

      ‘Everything else as well,’ Laurie murmured. ‘I read about it in the papers. There was some sort of really sad incident in his life, and he became a recluse, as well as being something of an eccentric anyway – the uncle I mean.’

      Marius, thoughtful, said slowly, ‘I believe it was a broken engagement, or a divorce; there was a woman involved, some tragedy, if I remember correctly. I think you and I read the same newspaper stories, Laurie.’ He glanced at his wife. ‘Don’t you know any of the family background?’

      ‘Not much. Christopher has never told me anything. He’s rather shy, reticent.’

      ‘Ho, ho, that’s what you think, is it! Well, he’s certainly not too shy to ogle you. He’s got big eyes for you, Annette.’ Marius laughed. It sounded a little hollow.

      ‘That’s not true. And he’s only twenty-three, for heaven’s sake!’

      ‘What’s age got to do with anything? Age is merely a number, that’s all. And he does have eyes for you. I saw it myself at the party on Tuesday night. Come on, admit it.’

      ‘Oh pooh,’ Annette exclaimed in a dismissive voice, not wishing to acknowledge the truth in what Marius was saying. That would only give him ammunition to tease her, or taunt her, as he was sometimes prone to do. It was another way to control her.

      Laurie sat back, watching them, not daring to enter into this conversation. She knew it was wise to remain silent. She was only too well aware that Marius had always been extremely possessive of Annette, and jealous. There were times when Laurie had seen him watching her sister like a hawk, his face a mask of anger, if there was another man showing interest. Whenever she had mentioned his dreadful possessiveness, which seemed pathological to her, Annette had dismissed it vehemently. Nonetheless, there was a certain problem there, whatever Annette believed.

      Marius stood up, went to fetch the bottle of champagne, and refilled their glasses, then took it back to the silver bucket. He stood there for a moment, his hand on the bottle, looking from his wife to his sister-in-law. Finally he said, ‘Listen, the two of you, I’ve just had an inspired idea. I think you should both go down to Kent tomorrow to that house of Christopher’s, his uncle’s huge pile. You’d enjoy the outing, Laurie, wouldn’t you? And Laurie would be company for you, Annette. I’ll tell you what, I’ll talk to Paddy on my way to the airport. I know he’ll be happy to drive you to Kent, wait and bring you back. Now what do you say about that, the two of you?’

      Laurie was absolutely silent, frightened to speak.

      Annette looked across at her sister and smiled. She said, in the most loving of voices, ‘Marius has just had a brilliant idea, Laurie. I’d love it if you would come with me. I wish I’d thought of it myself.’

      ‘Oh, honestly, I don’t know,’ Laurie answered СКАЧАТЬ