The Marika Loft Gallery
It was Saturday afternoon, the day of the auction. Our car was arriving at five to take us to London. It was 4.55 p.m. and there was no sign of Mason.
“Can’t you call him and find out where he is?” said Mum. “It would be a shame for him to miss it.”
I got my phone out of my trouser pocket.
“Too late. The car’s here!” said Dad, looking out of the window for the hundredth time.
Mum and I rushed over to take a look. It was silver with sliding doors and blacked-out windows. A man in a suit and wearing dark glasses got out and headed towards the house.
“Don’t let him see us staring!” said Mum, giggling as she fell back on to the sofa. She was wearing her new dress with a silky shawl over her shoulders. She looked really lovely. Dad was wearing a pair of navy trousers and a shirt a bit like mine, but he had a smart jacket over the top. The last time I’d seen Mabel she was wearing a white dress and a pair of sparkly silver shoes, which were now discarded on the sofa. There was a knock on the door and Mum let out a little high-pitched squeak.
“It’s the driver! Where’s Mabel?” she said, grabbing her shoes. “Come on, Mabel! We’ve got to go!”
Mabel came thumping down the stairs. She’d taken off her dress and was wearing her old denim dungarees over a stripy top. One of the shoulder straps was undone and there was a big orange stain down the front.
“See what I mean, Mum?” I cried. “She can’t come looking like that!”
Mabel ignored me and sat on the bottom step, stuffing her little feet into the silver shoes. She clearly still liked that part of her outfit. Mum sighed.
“Where’s your lovely dress, Mabel?” she said. “Why have you taken it off?”
“There isn’t time to change her now,” said Dad, grabbing his door keys. “Cole, text Mason and tell him we’ve had to go without him.”
Mum opened the front door.
“Good evening, ma’am,” said the chauffeur. “I’m Nick, your driver. If you’d all like to follow me, we can be on our way.”
Mum turned to me and grinned, her cheeks flushed.
Mabel was the first to get in the car. There was a booster seat all ready for her by the window. Mum climbed in beside her and Dad sat in the front next to Nick. I got in behind Mum and Mabel and fiddled with my seatbelt. A face suddenly appeared at my window and someone tapped on the glass.
“Sorry I’m late!” It was Mason. He climbed into the back and sat next to me. His cheeks were bright red from running.
“I didn’t think you were going to make it,” I said.
“What?” he said, grinning. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
He pulled his seatbelt across his chest and clicked it into place.
“I’m ready!” he called to Nick, who was back in the driving seat. The car slowly pulled away and I looked out at our scruffy, cold house and crossed my fingers.
After two hours of driving, we pulled up outside a large white building. Above the door in small, silver letters it read: The Marika Loft Gallery.
“Here we are, everybody,” called Nick.
“It looks so smart,” whispered Mum.
A small crowd of people stood behind a red rope at the side of entrance. A few of them were drinking out of takeaway coffee cups and they had expensive-looking cameras hanging around their necks. They were all staring at our car.
“Who are they?” I asked Nick.
“That’s the paparazzi,” he said. “They hang around on the look-out for famous people. They take photographs and sell them to the newspapers.”
Declan appeared through the front door of the gallery. Nick got out and opened Dad’s door, then came round to the side and pulled the door open for Mum.
“Welcome, everyone!” said Declan, shaking hands with Mum as she got out of the car. Mabel went all shy and hid her face in Mum’s neck.
I took a deep breath and climbed out as well. All of a sudden there was an explosion of flashes. At first, I thought something terrible was happening, but then I saw that it was the paparazzi people with the cameras. They strained against the rope and a security guard put out his arm to stop them going any further. They were all shouting. At me.
“Cole! Over here!”
“This way, Cole! Look at the camera! Look at me!”
“Cole! How does it feel to be a world-famous artist?”
I blinked as the flashes dazzled my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing. Why were they taking my picture? I wasn’t famous! Declan herded us towards the entrance.
“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said, ushering us into the reception. My heart was pounding and my ears were ringing.
“What just happened?” asked Mum breathlessly. Mabel peeked out from Mum’s shoulder, her bottom lip sticking out. Declan laughed.
“They just want a photo of Cole, that’s all. The fact that we haven’t revealed your painting yet is driving everyone crazy.”
He turned to me.
“Don’t be surprised if your photo is on the front pages of all the papers tomorrow. And I mean all of them. This is worldwide news! Everyone wants to know about the art world’s newest star, Cole Miller!”
He grinned but I didn’t smile back. I glanced at Mason and Mum and Dad. They all looked as shocked as I felt.
“Guys, don’t look so worried! I can imagine it’s a bit strange, having all of this attention, but I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” said Declan. “Right, let’s get you mingling, shall we? Marika is very keen to meet you both, Mr and Mrs Miller. And, Cole, there are a lot of people who want to talk to you. Follow me!”
Mum put Mabel down on the floor and my little sister gripped her hand tightly. Dad put his hand on the small of Mum’s back and Mason walked beside me. I was about to ask Declan where the nearest toilet was when we entered a large white room. It was full of people with shiny hair and expensive-looking clothes, drinking from long, sparkly glasses. Every single one turned around and the room went silent.
“Ladies and gentleman,” called Declan. “It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you Marika Loft’s incredible protégé … Cole Miller!”
“What’s a protégé?” whispered Mason.
“I have no idea,” I whispered back.
Declan quickly swept him, Mum, Dad and Mabel to one side while I stood on my own in front of everyone.
The crowd grinned and awkwardly clapped their hands together while trying to hold on to their glasses of champagne. I tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace and I could feel my face begin to burn. I recognized at least three actors, a rapper who had been number one last year, and a woman who presented a game show on TV. Once the applause died down some of the crowd came towards me, their teeth dazzling white.
“Cole! How marvellous to meet you,” said a lady in a long, blue dress. “Are you looking forward to this evening?”
I smiled back at her. “I guess so,” I said.
She looked around her and then leant in towards me, using her hand to shield her mouth.
“Tell me … do you have a whole pile of paintings in your studio, ready to be sold? I’d be very interested in buying them, you know… Very interested indeed.”
“Um. I don’t have a studio,” I said in my best posh voice. “I keep them under my bed.”
The lady in the blue dress blinked at me for a moment and then threw her head back and began to laugh.
“Oh, Jeremy!” she said to a large man standing behind her. “He’s such a darling!”
My family and Mason pushed their way back to join me.
“You OK, champ?” said Dad, whispering in my ear. I nodded. The lady in blue turned to Mum and I heard her asking where we lived and then the large man turned to Dad.
“I’m Jeremy Dickenson!” he bellowed. He was wearing a white suit and a black shirt that was nearly bursting open over his stomach.
“Pleased to meet you,” said Dad, shaking his hand. “I’m Doug. Doug Miller.”
/> “Good to see you, Doug!” shouted Jeremy. “What an incredibly thrilling evening for you all!”
He didn’t seem able to talk at a normal volume. I expect he spent a lot of time at loud parties.
“Yes, we’re all really excited, aren’t we, Cole?” Mabel appeared by Dad’s side and tugged on his arm and he picked her up on to his hip.
“So, what is it that you do, Doug?” said Jeremy, looking at Dad inquisitively.
“Do?” said Dad. Mabel started tugging on Dad’s earlobes. She pulled one, then reached around his face for the other.
“Stop it, Mabel,” he said quietly.
I looked up at my dad as he took Mabel’s hand off his ear.
“Ah!” said Dad. “Well, as you can see, I’ve got my hands full with this little one.”
Jeremy paused for a moment, then erupted into possibly one of the loudest laughs I’ve ever heard.
“No, old chap!” he said. “I don’t mean right now! I mean what is your job? Your employment? Are you in the city? Are you in finance?”
Mabel had stopped pulling Dad’s ears and was staring at the man. Dad moved her over on to his other hip.
“At the moment I’m a full-time parent,” said Dad. “My wife Jenny works and I … well, I look after the kids.”
Jeremy blinked at Dad. He paused for a moment.
“Why?” he said.
“Well, I’m sure you know what childcare costs can be like,” said Dad, smiling. “Until I can find a job that fits around the children we just decided that it would be better if—”
But Jeremy had apparently spotted somebody he knew in the crowd.
“BIANCA!” he bellowed, completely ignoring the fact that Dad was halfway through a sentence and marching off to the other side of the room. As he disappeared into the crowd, it slowly parted and there was a hushed silence as someone made their way through. It was Marika Loft. She was wearing similar clothes to the ones she’d worn to our school – wide-legged trousers, high heels and a shirt – but this time her outfit was grey. Painting ‘A Sky in Blue’ felt like a lifetime ago now. I watched as she said hello to Mum and Dad, shaking their hands and giving them the biggest, warmest smile. Then she came towards me.
“How are you, Cole?” she said, putting her arm in mine.
“Um. I’m OK,” I croaked. I looked around me but my family and Mason had already been swept away into the crowd.
“You should be very proud,” she said. “It is an incredible piece of work. It tells such a story.”
I nodded. My throat felt really dry, and when I swallowed it hurt. A man appeared in front of us. It was Declan.
“Can I just interrupt you there for a moment please, Marika,” he said. “We want to get a photograph of Cole next to the cloaked painting before the big reveal.”
“Cloaked?” I said.
“The painting is covered with a sheet,” said Marika, her violet eyes twinkling. “We’re going to unveil it just as the auction begins!”
My heart raced. I looked around the room at all these people, waiting to buy my picture.
“Actually, I am a bit worried about the painting,” I blurted out. “I’m … I’m not sure you should sell it. I, I don’t think it’s my best work.”
Marika and Declan both blinked at me. Then Marika began to laugh.
“But of course we’re selling it!” she said. She dropped her voice. “Don’t worry, Cole. There are plenty of wealthy people in this room who are prepared to spend a lot of money to get their hands on some of your early work. Have confidence: you’re a once-in-a-generation talent.”
I opened my mouth to say that I wasn’t, but Declan took my arm and began to guide me to the front of the room. As we walked through the crowd, I could hear people discussing me in excited whispers.
“Oh look, Yvette. That’s him!”
“He’s so little! Is he really twelve years old?”
“Isn’t it amazing how someone so young can have so much talent?”
“I hear his family are terribly poor. What an incredible rags-to-riches story.”
“Yes, the dad’s unemployed and the mother is soon to be out of a job.”
I kept my head down as Declan batted them away with his charming grin.
We came to a small stage lit with spotlights. On the plain white wall was my painting, covered with a black sheet. A photographer appeared and immediately began to give me orders.
“Stand on the left of the painting, twist your body towards me, and keep your hands in your pockets,” she barked. I walked to the wall, took a deep breath and then turned to face the photographer. I scanned the room for my family. I could just see the top of Mum’s head but she wasn’t looking in my direction.
“Hands in pockets,” said the photographer. “Twist a little more to the side … a bit more … a bit more…”
I turned awkwardly and she moved around me, taking hundreds of photos. She stepped closer, then back a bit, and then she got me to look over my shoulder towards her. The flash from the camera was making my eyes water and I quickly wiped them with my sleeve.
I blinked against the flashes and suddenly Mum was there, right behind the photographer, looking concerned. Declan spotted her and clapped his hands together.
“Right. I think you’ve got the shot,” he said. “Come on, Cole. We’ll get you over to Marika. The time has come for the big reveal!”
The bright spotlights and the flashes had made me feel dizzy. Someone put a glass of water in front of me and I took it and had a big gulp. It was Mason.
“Are you all right?” he asked. I shook my head.
“I want to go home,” I told him, but it was too late. The auction was about to start.
The Big Reveal
I stood beside the painting and looked out at the crowd. Mum and Dad were standing right at the front, looking up at me with proud smiles on their faces, while Mabel skidded around them in her new silver shoes.
Someone tapped the side of a champagne glass and everybody hushed as a woman stepped up to a lectern and switched on a microphone.
“That’s the auctioneer,” whispered Marika, appearing next to me. “She’s one of the best in the country.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention please?” said the woman. “If you are intending to join in with the auction then can I please ask you to refer to your buyer’s guide for the terms and conditions of this sale before you place your bid.”
She held up a little booklet. It had a photograph of the painting, covered with the black cloth on the front. A few people in the crowd fumbled with their guides as the auctioneer continued.
“Before we reveal this wonderful work of art and begin the bidding process, I’d like to pass the microphone over to the person who has made this quite remarkable event happen, Marika Loft.”
Everyone applauded as Marika walked to the lectern.
“Thank you,” she said into the microphone. “And welcome to my gallery. As you know, we have a rather remarkable young person in the room this evening.”
I skimmed my eyes around the crowd as I wasn’t really sure where to look. Rows of teeth grinned back at me. I turned to listen to Marika and tried to smile.
“This young man has the kind of talent that only comes along once in a generation, and we are so incredibly lucky to be witnessing the start of his artistic career, right here and right now.”
There was another smattering of applause.
“But before we begin, I’d like to ask Cole about his inspiration for the painting that we are going to be auctioning here tonight.”
I gulped nervously. She hadn’t told me I would need to speak! I caught Mum’s eye and she nodded, encouragingly.
“Cole. We’re all dying to hear from you. Can you first of all reveal the title of your new masterpiece?”
I looked out at the audience, blinking at the bright lights. And then I leant towards the microphone.
“It’s called ‘Catch’,” I said, my voice wobbling.
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br /> There was an “Oohhhh” from the crowd and another ripple of applause. I looked towards Mum, who had Mabel in her arms.
“And, Cole,” continued Marika, “can you share with us your inspiration behind ‘Catch’?”
I paused for a moment, trying to think of what I should say, what all of these arty people would expect me to tell them.
“So, ‘Catch’ is about… It’s about family and um…” I spotted Mason who was grinning at me. “… friendship.”
Marika nodded enthusiastically.
“And the title, Cole: ‘Catch’. Would you like to explain what the title means?”
“I guess … it’s like … the game,” I said slowly. She nodded. “You need two people to play catch, just like you, um, need your friends and family in this … ummm … crazy game of … life.”
A big “Ahhhh” came from the crowd and they started clapping.
I exhaled. What a load of nonsense, but it seemed to have gone well. Marika and I stood next to the painting. The auctioneer returned to the microphone.
“Well, I’m sure that you are all longing to see ‘Catch’ for yourselves, and to start the bidding of course!” said the auctioneer. “Cole? Would you like to reveal your painting after a count of three?”
I stepped closer to the wall and held on to the corner of the black fabric.
This was it.
I was going to show the whole world the painting, and if it went well, all of our money worries would be solved.
I looked up as a sea of glowing mobile phones pointed towards me. The official photographer was at the front of the crowd, her camera ready to capture this moment for ever.
“Ladies and gentlemen, can we have a countdown?” asked the auctioneer.
“Three, two, one!” called the crowd. I pulled the cloth and ‘Catch’ by Cole Miller was there for everyone to see.
There was a huge gasp, and then silence.
I squeezed my eyes together. I couldn’t bear to look. They hated it! That was it. It was all over. I’d utterly failed.
I took a deep breath, bracing myself for everyone to start laughing, but suddenly there was thunderous applause. I opened my eyes and blinked. Everyone was grinning at me! I felt my lips curl up and I grinned back. I searched again for my family. Mum was jiggling around with Mabel, a huge smile on her face, and Dad was pounding his hands together. He gave me a little wave and I waved back.
The Boy Who Fooled the World Page 12