by Miranda Lee
‘Thank you,’ she choked out at last.
‘My pleasure. Now, hop to it and no more tears.’
‘How did you know I was crying?’
‘Megan, I’m a woman too.’
And an incredibly beautiful one, Megan was reminded when she opened the front door right on eleven.
Dressed in a chic black suit with an open-necked white silk blouse underneath, Nicole looked like the kind of woman who just might break that glass ceiling people were always talking about. She looked not just beautiful but also sophisticated and intelligent and, yes, in total command of herself and everything around her.
Megan envied her obvious confidence, though not her looks. If there was one positive leftover from this last week, it was that she’d come to believe she was a very attractive girl in her own right, with a good figure and some style of her own. When James had first picked out the yellow woollen dress she was wearing today, she’d felt it was too bright, and refused to wear it. Now neither its colour nor its form-fitting style bothered her one bit.
‘Now, that,’ Nicole said, looking Megan up and down, ‘is just the ticket. Come on, kiddo, get your handbag and we’re off.’
‘I have a couple of paintings I want to take with me,’ Megan said, and pointed to the sheet-wrapped bundle in the hallway near by. ‘If you carry my handbag for me, I’ll carry them.’
‘Yours?’ Nicole asked on their way down the front steps.
‘Yes. I want to see what Nathan thinks of them.’
‘And Nathan is?’
‘The owner of the gallery. Nathan Price.’
‘Don’t know him. But that’s all right. I don’t know much about art at the best of times. Are they any good?’
‘I think so.’
Nicole beamed over at her. ‘I like the sound of that. Very positive.’
‘It’s hard not to be positive around you, Nicole.’
‘What a lovely thing to say!’
And what a lovely person you are, Megan thought during the drive to the art gallery. No wonder Russell loves you.
This last thought, however, was a double-edged sword, because it led to her wishing for the moon again. What she would not give to have had James look at her the way Russell always looked at Nicole, and Hugh at Kathryn. But he never had. And he never would now.
Nicole fell silent behind the wheel, not sure whether she should bring up the subject of how Megan felt about James at this early stage. She had no intention of telling her that James believed he’d fallen in love with her during their second honeymoon, because quite frankly she didn’t believe any such thing. Fallen into lust, probably, with the more sexy-looking Megan. Nicole had little faith in James’s version of being in love, since he was supposed to have been madly in love with that pathetic, up-herself supermodel who was all sex and no substance.
Nicole would wait till she saw James tonight before she made any judgement on that score. She was becoming quite good at reading body language, her job in real estate making her much more astute in that regard. She knew straight away these days if a client was a serious buyer, or just a time waster. James would have trouble deceiving her in the flesh.
Meanwhile, she needed to find out how Megan felt about her husband. Obviously, she was very hurt. Maybe she even thought she hated him. But hate was often the other side of love.
But probing Megan’s obviously fragile emotions could wait till lunch-time. She’d buy Megan a glass of wine or two, and see if that would relax her enough for Nicole to broach such a delicate subject.
‘Whereabouts is this art gallery?’ she asked as they approached Bondi.
‘Turn left at the next set of lights. And then take the second street on the right. The gallery’s about two hundred metres down that road, next to a small row of shops. There’s parking behind it, so that’s not a worry. Not that there would be much trouble parking on a Monday.’
Nicole found the gallery, a pale grey, cement-rendered two-storeyed building with an alleyway next to it which led from the small car park at the back to the front, where a huge picture window gave any passer-by a good look of the artwork beyond. One glance showed that they didn’t just exhibit paintings. There was a large display of vibrantly coloured pottery pieces not far from the window. Very interesting, it was. But not to Nicole’s taste. She embraced simplicity these days, her home not filled with what she thought of as useless ornaments and knick-knacks. Her once extensive and very expensive wardrobe had also been reduced to basics, nothing but jeans and casual gear, plus a selection of classically tailored power suits bought off the rack. No more overpriced designer fashions for her. And no more frivolous party frocks, either!
A tinkling bell rang as one pushed open the gallery’s front door, a blond-headed man in a pink shirt and paisley tie immediately appearing from a back room. For a moment he didn’t seem to recognise Megan. But then he came forward with a camp smile broadening his thin, aesthetically handsome face.
‘Megan, darling. Long time no see. My, don’t you look scrumptious? And what do you have for me? Some new paintings at last? Do give me a look-see.’
Nicole appreciated that he totally ignored her to concentrate on Megan, and possibly business. There again, she thought ruefully, gay men did tend to ignore her. When a gay guy came in to buy a house, she always directed him to one of the other salespeople. Usually Derek, who wasn’t gay, but could have been by the looks of him.
‘They’re different from what I used to do,’ Megan said as she laid the paintings down on a counter top and began unwrapping the sheet. Once the sheet was undone, she carried the two paintings over to a long sideboard and leant them up against the wall. ‘They have to be looked at from a bit of a distance,’ Megan said, then stepped away from them.
Both Nathan Price and Nicole were momentarily struck dumb. They weren’t just good, Nicole thought. They were tours de force.
‘Oh, my!’ Nathan said, clasping both his cheeks in what could only be described as a camp gesture. But much better than words.
‘You like them?’ Megan enquired, her cheeks developing splotches of pink. As well they might.
Both were nudes. The first painting was entitled Despair. A very apt word. A brunette was sitting on a stool, with her shoulders slumped forward and her head in her hands. You couldn’t see her face. Fortunately, this made her unrecognisable. Fortunately also, perhaps, you couldn’t see anything too private. Even her nipples were obscured by bits of arms.
The second painting was not quite as discreet in that regard. This time the brunette was sitting astride a chair that was turned around, her bare arms resting along the top of the chair back. Fortunately, there was a solid middle panel to the back which stopped the painting from being pornographic, but she could see most of the subject’s breasts, along with their very erect nipples.
Once again, however, Megan had contrived to make the subject unrecognisable as a self-portrait, with a clever use of hair and shadow falling across the brunette’s face. Only one eye was clear, one incredible eye that held an expression which was as powerful as it was unmistakable.
The title of Desire was quite unnecessary.
It was the most erotically charged picture Nicole had ever seen.
‘Has James seen these?’ Nicole asked, her voice low and a little husky. But, dear heaven, looking at that painting had quickened her breathing. What it would do to a heterosexual male, she could only imagine.
‘No,’ Megan admitted.
Nicole wasn’t surprised.
‘I could get thirty grand for that painting alone,’ Nathan pronounced, jabbing a heavily beringed finger towards the one entitled Desire. ‘I have several wealthy clients who buy nudes. Not quite so much for the other one. Maybe only twenty.’
Megan just stared at him. My God. Fifty thousand dollars! She’d thought they were good, but this was breathtaking news!
‘Of course, if you do a few more,’ Nathan added, his eyes alight with artistic fervour, ‘you could have an exhibition.
If we time it right—say, just before Christmas—and do some proper marketing, then the sky’s the limit.’
Megan didn’t know what to say.
‘You’ve found your forte, darling,’ Nathan gushed. ‘Good nudes always sell. But might I suggest that you do a blonde next time? And change your setting. Your friend here,’ he said, giving Nicole a highly objective once-over, ‘now, she’d make a good subject. But keep to the black and white theme. That’s very effective.’
‘What about a man?’ Megan enquired, her mind filling with images of James in the buff. She didn’t need him to sit for her. She could remember every line of his body. Every muscle.
‘Even better,’ Nathan enthused. ‘You’d widen your market considerably with a few male nudes.’
Nicole just managed not to make a sound. But really!
‘I wasn’t talking about a few,’ Megan said. ‘Just one. It took me nearly three months to do those two.’
‘Yes, but now that you know they’re good,’ Nathan pointed out smugly, ‘you’ll paint more quickly. Nothing like confidence to speed up the brushes, and the inspiration. It’s over seven months till Christmas. If you do four more, that should be enough. Say two blondes and two men. How about that?’
‘I don’t know, Nathan. I really just came down here to get your opinion, and to ask you for a job.’
‘A job! Why would James Logan’s wife want a job?’
Megan hesitated, then decided there was no point in lying. ‘We’ve split up.’
‘So soon? Oh, dear heart, I’m so sorry. Sorry, too, that I can’t offer you a job. But times are very tough at the moment. I man this place all by myself during the week. I do have a girl who comes in to help at the weekends and on exhibition nights but I can’t really sack her just to hire you, can I?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Look, sweetie,’ he said, walking forward to take her hands in his, ‘use this opportunity to paint. Pour all the emotion which has to be seething inside you at the moment into your work.’
‘I don’t know, Nathan…’ Megan’s emotions weren’t seething so much as sinking. She suddenly felt terribly tired again. ‘I…I’ll think about it.’
‘Don’t take them with you,’ Nathan objected when she went to pick her paintings up again. ‘What say I frame them and put them up on the wall straight away? See if we get any offers.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘But don’t actually sell them without consulting me first. I’ll give you my phone number.’
‘It’s a deal.’
‘Are you sure you want to sell those paintings?’ Nicole asked Megan over their pre-lunch drinks. Hers was a mineral water, whilst Megan’s was a very nice Chardonnay from the Hunter Valley. They were in a local café. Nothing flash, but Nicole had been there before and the food was good. ‘They’re brilliant, but anyone who knows you will realise the brunette is you.’
‘Is it that obvious?’
‘Yes.’
Megan put down her glass of wine. ‘What does it really matter?’ she said. ‘What does anything matter any more? It’s not as though James will care. He doesn’t care about me, or my paintings.’
‘Are you quite sure about that?’
‘Quite sure.’
‘And do you still care about him, Megan?’
Megan looked away, and shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t.’
‘But you do.’
She nodded, no longer able to speak.
Nicole wasn’t sure what to do, or what to say. All she knew was she had to make sure that what Megan believed was really the truth. If James didn’t love her, then he could go stew in his own pathetic juice. But if he did really love her now, then, by God, he was going to know that this lovely girl still loved him back.
Nicole had come very close to losing Russell because of actions and words which could have been easily misinterpreted. Fortunately, the strength of their love for each other had won the day. But it had been a close call.
‘James is coming to our place for dinner tonight,’ she said.
Megan jerked her head back round to stare at Nicole, her eyes wide with surprise.
And reproach.
‘It wasn’t my idea,’ Nicole hastily added. ‘My better half thought James might need tea and sympathy. I couldn’t really say no.’
Megan sighed resignedly. ‘They’re as thick as thieves, those two,’ she said. ‘Not to mention Hugh as well. Neither of them approved of James marrying me. But they stood by him on our wedding day and didn’t say a word.’
‘They wouldn’t. They’re very loyal to each other.’
‘I don’t understand it. They have nothing in common, except perhaps golf, and money. Why are they such good friends?’
‘Russell didn’t always have money,’ Nicole pointed out. ‘Besides, having things in common doesn’t always make for a good friendship. They appreciate each other’s qualities. And they understand each other. They know what makes each other tick and why they do what they do. They were at boarding school together. Shared a room. At uni, too. Till Russell’s dad committed suicide. You do know about that, don’t you?’
‘Yes. Yes, James told me the whole sorry story after the to-do at your wedding.’
‘It screwed Russell up for a long time. He became a right ruthless devil. But both James and Hugh stayed his friend.’
Megan frowned. ‘Did you know that James’s father was an abusive pig of a man?’
‘Heavens, no. I had no idea. I don’t think Russell knows that, either. If he does, he’s never mentioned it.’
‘James doesn’t like to talk about it.’
‘But he told you.’
‘Only recently.’
During their second honeymoon, Nicole realised. When James said he fell in love with her…
Nicole thought about that all during their lunch together. And during the drive back to Woolahra.
‘Thanks for the lunch, Nicole,’ Megan said when they pulled up outside her parents’ place. ‘And for going to Nathan’s with me.’
‘So what are you going to do if he rings you and says he has a buyer for your paintings? Sell, or wait for an exhibition?’
‘I’m not sure now. About either of those alternatives. They’re very private paintings, Nicole. I never really thought about selling them. I just wanted to see if Nathan thought they were any good.’
‘You don’t have to sell them if you don’t want to.’
‘No. No, I don’t.’ She didn’t like the idea of people she knew looking at them and knowing it was her. Well…sort of. She hadn’t exactly posed that way. They were partly works of her imagination. But the emotions had been all hers. She sighed, then glanced over at Nicole. ‘Are you going to tell James you were with me today?’
‘Yes. Why not? You’re my friend. He’s not.’
‘Really and truly, Nicole?’
Her vulnerability was just too touching for words. I’m going to kill that man if he doesn’t really love you, Nicole thought as she bent over and gave Megan a kiss on the cheek. ‘Of course you are. I’ll call you some time tomorrow. Make sure you’re putting your shoulder to the wheel, or whatever that saying is. Even if you decide not to sell those two particular paintings, that doesn’t stop you from painting more. No slacking, now. And no sleeping in. The art world awaits its newest genius.’
‘I wish,’ Megan said with a wry laugh as she climbed out of the car.
‘Wishes are made to be granted!’ Nicole called after her.
Only some, Nicole, Megan though sadly as she waved goodbye. Only some.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I WOULD have been better off staying home, James thought grimly within minutes of his arrival at Russell’s house. Roberta might have given him the cold shoulder ever since he’d arrived home earlier that afternoon. But he could withstand his housekeeper’s chilly manner far better than Nicole’s probing gaze. Mostly because he could escape it.
Tonight, he had no option but to tolerate being s
tared at, and not so subtly quizzed over what had really happened on Dream Island.
His patience wore thin very quickly.
‘Sorry, chaps,’ he said when he was still on his first glass of red. ‘It was very kind of you to invite me here tonight but fact is, I’m not in the mood for conversation, or food. So I think I’d better go home.’ It wasn’t far from the house Russell had bought at Bondi to his own place in Bellevue Hill.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Russell protested immediately. ‘Look, we won’t give you the third degree any more, will we, Nicole? Promise. But don’t go. Have another drink.’ And he poured some more wine into James’s glass.
James sighed. ‘I don’t think you understand, Russ.’
‘I think I do,’ Nicole said, her green eyes turning soft and warm for the first time that evening. ‘You really do love Megan, don’t you?’
‘More than I would ever have thought possible.’
‘Then you’re right,’ she said. ‘You shouldn’t stay here tonight. You should get over to her parents’ place pronto, and tell her so.’
‘What? Good God, Nicole, what would be the point of that? Megan hates me.’
‘No, James. She doesn’t hate you. I had lunch with Megan today and she doesn’t hate you at all. Just the opposite, in fact.’
His heart began pounding in his chest so hard and loud that its beat echoed in his ears. ‘She still loves me?’
‘Yes.’
‘But how could she, after what I did?’
‘Because she’s Megan, that’s why. She’s good and kind and gentle. And very forgiving. She doesn’t do revenge, James. Ever. Neither is she a deceiving cow. The only reason she would have been on that pill was because she just couldn’t face having another baby this soon. It’s only been three months, after all. She was probably just too scared to tell you. You can be rather intimidating, James, especially to someone like Megan.’
James stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. ‘If what you’re saying is true, then she couldn’t possibly still love me. Not now. Not after the way I’ve acted.’