Given Time

by Anthony Burn

  She buried her face in my neck, kissing it repeatedly. I rubbed her back and carried her back to the bedroom, silently thanking Amy for helping Lauren to make the right decision. I put her down gently on our dishevelled bed and unwrapped her robe.

  ‘Oh my God, yes,’ she said, as she pulled me on top of her.

  The flight to Thailand took over fifteen hours, with a couple of stops to refuel on the way. Despite having taken off from London at ten in the morning, we had flown into darkness within just a few hours. We took advantage of the sideways-facing divan, which converted into a narrow double bed, to get some sleep in an effort to counteract the effects of jet lag. Even so, we were still red-eyed by the time we reached the villa at just after nine in the morning.

  We took a relaxing day to unwind and catch up with Drew and Amy, alternately playing in the pool and snoozing on the sun loungers as our body clocks began to adjust.

  Several times during the day I caught a look from Amy as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. She finally came out with it during dinner that evening.

  ‘By the way, did I tell you I’ve finished my novel?’ she asked.

  Lauren couldn’t contain her excitement. ‘No, you didn’t. That’s brilliant. When can we read it?’

  ‘Well, I wanted to ask you if you would read it with me?’ Amy said. ‘So I can watch your reactions. Do you mind?’

  ‘While we’re here?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes. But only Lauren. Is that okay?’

  ‘I don’t mind at all,’ I said, and looked to Drew for confirmation.

  ‘Yeah, no worries. It’ll give us a bit of peace from the incessant chatter.’ He grinned, and quickly ducked to avoid his fiancée’s slap.

  The following morning the girls had pushed a couple of sun loungers together and were laying on their fronts with their heads bent over Amy’s tablet as Lauren read her novel. She laughed in a few places, causing Amy to regard her with undisguised glee, and asked a number of questions, most of which her companion answered with a firm ‘Wait and see’.

  After a while Drew and I left the women to their reading and went off to try out some kayaking and mountain biking for the day. When we returned in the middle of the afternoon, the girls had moved into the shade. They greeted our arrival with shushing noises and instructions not to disturb them because they were close to finishing.

  We grabbed ourselves some beers from the fridge and dutifully sat away from them, chatting quietly as we looked out to sea.

  Nearly an hour later I heard Lauren gasp, and with instinctive concern I checked in her direction. She was staring, open mouthed and wide-eyed at Amy, who was grinning with uninhibited joy in response.

  Lauren regained her composure. ‘Wow, I did not see that coming. That is brilliant, Amy. Just brilliant.’

  Amy pulled her into a hug. ‘It means so much to me that you like it.’

  ‘Like it? I love it,’ Lauren told her. ‘It’s so good all the way through, but that ending is brilliant.’ She turned to Drew. ‘You must be so proud. Did you love it too?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know – I haven’t read it. I’m not allowed to.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘No one was allowed to read it before you,’ he said.

  She frowned at Amy. ‘Is that true, or is he just winding me up?’

  ‘No, that’s right. I wanted to get your opinion before I dared to show it to anyone else.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say. I feel honoured. You have to show it to everybody. It’s genius.’

  Amy beamed at her. ‘That’s why I needed you to see it first. I knew you’d be encouraging. Thank you.’

  ‘You’ve definitely got to get it published,’ Lauren told her.

  The smile faded from Amy’s face. ‘If only it were that simple. Writing it is the easy part. Finding an agent or publisher to take it on is the real nightmare.’

  Despite Amy’s misgivings, Lauren had lost none of her enthusiasm. ‘You’ll find one easily. It’s going to be a bestseller.’

  ‘I wish I had your confidence,’ her friend replied.

  ‘So, are we allowed to read it now?’ I asked.

  Amy’s face lit up again. ‘Do you want to?’

  ‘No, I was just asking to be polite,’ I said. ‘Of course I want to.’

  ‘Great. I’d love that. I’ll share it with you.’ She grabbed her tablet and tapped a few buttons. ‘Done. Enjoy.’

  ‘I will. I’ll start it tonight,’ I said. ‘Actually, it must be a great feeling. I know it’s only Lauren, but to have your work praised like that—’

  Lauren glared at me and interrupted. ‘What do you mean it’s only me? Don’t I count or something?’

  I thought about what I’d said. ‘Oh no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant “only” as in just one person so far. I meant if you like it then lots of people will, and that’s got to give Amy a great buzz.’

  The heat left Lauren’s face and she smiled again as Amy confirmed, ‘It does feel pretty good. Thank you.’

  ‘I’m really pleased for you, sis,’ I said. ‘And if I’m honest, I’m also a teeny bit envious. Nobody ever gets excited about the stuff I write, you know, for the website and whatever.’

  ‘I do,’ Lauren protested. ‘I love your writing.’

  I was about to tell her it was not the same thing, but Drew spoke first. ‘You’ll have to write a novel, bro.’

  ‘Yes, I think you should,’ Lauren said, her eyes alive at the prospect.

  ‘I wouldn’t know where to start,’ I told them.

  ‘Start with what you know,’ Amy chimed in. ‘You’ve been all around the world and had plenty of adventures since you won the lottery. You could weave a story around that.’

  ‘Maybe. I might think about it,’ I said, sounding dubious but secretly finding the notion enticing. ‘In any case, this is your moment, Amy, and I don’t want to distract from it. I’m really looking forward to reading your novel. I’ll start after dinner.’

  With their reading finished, the girls were ready for adventure, and joined in with our activities for the last three days of our holiday. We visited Wat Chalong and the Big Buddha, took an extended helicopter tour of the Phi Phi Islands to see where The Beach was filmed, sailed and snorkelled, before the girls finished off with the inevitable Thai spa treatments.

  I’d made a start on Amy’s novel, but leisurely private dinners at the villa followed by moonlit strolls along the sand and through the tranquil surf had left little opportunity to get further than the first three chapters.

  I had plenty of time to finish the book on the long flight home, and when I reached the conclusion I was in complete consensus with Lauren’s assessment. She had been sitting on my lap, reading it with me, and when I expressed my surprise at the entirely unexpected denouement her face illuminated in much the same way that Amy’s had several days earlier.

  ‘See, I told you it was good. It’s a brilliant ending, isn’t it?’

  ‘Amazing,’ I agreed, and quickly tapped out a text from both of us to our new favourite author, complimenting her on her impressive opus and wishing her luck with getting it into print.

  The weather seemed intent on compensating for our few days of escape with sub-zero temperatures for the next two weeks. When we weren’t working we huddled in the temperate cocoon of the apartment, watching the iron-grey river as it spread its icy chill into the already cold, cheerless city. Even the water taxis gave the impression of being hunched as they battled the choppy waves and bitter winds, their passengers clustered together inside with waving to the riverside dwellers the last thing on their minds.

  The sun finally broke through late in January, heralding a slight thaw and a few cloudless days that brought the world around us back from a muffled, pinched existence to its vibrant, noisy lifestyle. Along with it came an equally bright idea that, unbeknown to us, would form the catalyst for an unexpected and unwelcome change in our relationship and our lives.<
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  Lauren broached the subject on a lazy Sunday morning as we nestled in our bed and allowed the day to drift along without disturbing us. ‘Kee, I’ve been thinking…’

  I couldn’t help myself. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Do you need some painkillers?’ I rested my palm against her forehead and feigned concern.

  She sighed and made a face at my pitiable humour. ‘I’m trying to be serious here.’

  ‘Okay, serious face,’ I assured her, pointing to my earnest expression.

  ‘You know I’ve always wanted to champion emerging artists, and I still do, but how would you feel if we gave over a small section of the gallery to established names or possibly even masterpieces?’

  I nodded uncertainly. ‘I’m hearing you, but I’m not sure I follow. What have you got in mind?’

  ‘Well, at the moment we hang works for our artists and make a commission on what we sell. I’m thinking we could buy in some renowned pieces and sell them at a profit. We could make more on each piece than our current percentage.’

  ‘Why the sudden change of heart?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s not really,’ she said. I’ve always wanted to do this once the business went into profit. I wasn’t going to suggest it until we had enough money to buy some, because it would be a significant outlay and we might not sell them for some time. The thing is, now I’ve got some money I could pay for them, but I’d still put the profits back into the gallery.’

  She looked reticent when she mentioned she had money, and dropped her gaze as she finished speaking. I knew she had shared what I’d given her with her family, but I’d not asked how much she’d let each of them have. I was glad though that she had obviously kept a significant portion for herself, and I kissed the top of her head before lifting her face to meet her eyes again.

  ‘That hardly seems fair,’ I told her. ‘If you put up the money, then it’s only right that you should take the profit, or at least a major part of it.’

  ‘I don’t need to,’ she protested.

  ‘I knew you’d say that, but there is another problem. If you pay for the paintings then you’re effectively putting money into the business, which creates a headache for the accountants and potential trouble with the tax man.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t know that.’ A disconsolate expression clouded her face. ‘Are you saying we can’t do it then?’

  ‘No, I’m not saying that at all. There are always ways around these things, but when I set up the business account I put in enough working capital to keep the gallery running for at least five years, and a contingency fund in case we had any unforeseen expenses. There’s been enough money in the business to do what you’re suggesting since day one.’

  ‘Really? Why didn’t you say?’

  ‘I didn’t know until now that you wanted to do this,’ I said.

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s no excuse.’

  ‘Just one question. Do you think we might confuse the market if we mix new and established artists?’

  ‘No, not at all. Other galleries do it all the time and, in fact, we have already had one or two enquiries.’

  ‘Well, I’m fine with it. You know I trust your judgement, and you are in charge of running the gallery, so if you think it’s a good idea let’s go with it. How many pieces were you thinking about?’

  ‘I thought we could start with one, and see how it goes,’ she suggested.

  ‘It’s up to you, but I would have thought it might be better to have two or three.’ I caught a knowing look in her eye. ‘Do you have something in mind?’

  She gave me a wry smile. ‘It’s funny you should say that,’ she said as she reached for her phone and pulled up a website for one of the major auction houses.

  With a catalogue in hand, Lauren led me around the auction viewing rooms. It didn’t take long to find the picture she had shown me on her phone two weeks previously, and even though I’d been impressed with the image it hadn’t prepared me for the brilliance of the work in real life.

  She told me in hushed tones that the estimate was between two and three hundred thousand pounds. ‘If we can get it for three hundred or under, I’m sure we can sell it at four-fifty,’ she whispered.

  I was about to agree when we were interrupted by a smartly dressed man in his late forties who had strolled up behind us. He greeted Lauren warmly and turned an enquiring eye in my direction. I noticed the colour come to Lauren’s cheeks and her embarrassment was reflected in her voice as she introduced William Rogers from the Hanniden gallery.

  ‘Bill,’ he corrected her as he shook my hand, and with his next words I understood her awkwardness. ‘It’s nice to put a face to the name of the man who’s been poaching my best staff.’ He said it with a smile, but I saw the humour hadn’t extended to his eyes.

  ‘Good to meet you,’ I told him, ‘but I’m not inclined to feel guilty since you attempted to poach mine first.’

  He nodded his acknowledgement. ‘Some you win…’ he said, before turning his attention back to Lauren and gesturing to the picture. ‘This is a very nice piece.’

  She was visibly relieved at having avoided any unpleasantness and agreed with his assessment.

  Bill opened his catalogue. ‘I think they’ve overestimated the value on this. I don’t think it’s worth any more than the lower end. We had its companion piece in our New York gallery last year, and it took us months to shift it. We finally let it go at a loss.’

  Lauren’s face dropped. She thanked him for the advice and made a plaintive glance in my direction. It would take some reassurance for her to recover from the blow to her esteem, but Bill hadn’t finished yet. ‘Are you interested in any other pieces in the sale?’

  ‘No, just this one, really—’ she began, but I interrupted her.

  ‘We’ve got two or three more to look at.’

  I was sure he saw through the lie, but he didn’t attempt to call my bluff. He wished us luck with the auction, and made his goodbyes before gesturing to the painting. ‘Don’t lose your shirt on this one.’

  He’d smiled with his parting shot, but his eyes had remained emotionless.

  Twenty-seven

  The sale was in full swing by the time we arrived in the mid-afternoon. We’d registered previously, so it was a simple matter to pick up our bidding paddle and find a pair of seats – four rows from the front. We settled down to watch the proceedings, and it became clear that we’d got at least an hour before our lot would be put under the hammer. I mentioned it to Lauren, but she was too caught up in the excitement of her first auction to be worried about the wait, so I asked her to save my place while I went to the bathroom.

  She looked at me anxiously. ‘Don’t be too long.’

  I laughed. ‘It doesn’t take me an hour to pee.’

  In truth, I didn’t need to go at all, but I wanted to make sure there was an empty stall available in case I needed to time travel. After our encounter with Bill Rogers at the viewing day, I’d become convinced I might require the time device and I’d brought it with me, even though I wasn’t sure if or how I would use it.

  Lauren had expressed the concern she’d displayed after he’d spoken to us. He’d successfully persuaded her that she might have been wrong about the painting, and she’d asked if I thought we should forget about it. When I’d suggested that he may have been putting her off so he could get it for himself, she had become very defensive. ‘He wouldn’t do something like that. He’s far too respected to risk his reputation.’

  I had to concede that she had a point, although I wasn’t completely convinced. ‘In any case it’s just one man’s opinion, no matter how authoritative that is. I think you should go with your instincts. After all, Mayfair isn’t the same as New York.’

  She’d taken some more persuading, but she finally agreed that if we could get it for below three hundred then we might sell at three seventy-five. I thought she was being under-ambitious, but that was a discussion that could wait until if and when we secured the painting.


  I picked the furthest cubicle from the entrance and shut the door behind me. After checking the exact time, I waited for a minute before emerging again. The rest room had remained empty so it hadn’t been necessary to use the stall, but it felt better to be careful. As I returned to the reception area, I saw Bill Rogers holding a brief conversation with another man before they split up and entered the saleroom separately. I followed at a distance to see Bill take a seat near the back while his companion found another, two rows back from Lauren and some way across to the other side of the room. I wasn’t completely sure, but it seemed like he’d found the perfect position to see when we were bidding.

  I made a pretext for swapping seats with Lauren, so that each time I turned to speak to her I could keep a watch on the stranger out of the corner of my eye. His paddle didn’t move from his lap before our lot came up, and even then I thought I might have misjudged him.

  The auctioneer started the bidding at one hundred and fifty thousand, and several paddles, including Lauren’s, went into the air. The bids increased in increments of ten thousand, and by the time the price reached two hundred and fifty there were only two paddles left. The other person dropped out at two hundred and eighty, and it looked as though we had won at two-ninety, but then Bill Rogers’ associate finally made his first bid – increasing the price to three hundred thousand.

  Lauren’s face dropped, and the hurt was apparent in her eyes.

  ‘Try one more,’ I encouraged her.

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked as the auctioneer watched her expectantly.

  I nodded, and she held up her paddle again to hear him announce that her bid was three hundred and twenty thousand. The increase in the bidding increment didn’t slow the other guy down; he immediately raised his paddle again to take the price to three-forty.

  Lauren didn’t give me a chance to coax her any further. Shaking her head to the auctioneer, she put her paddle firmly back in her lap and whispered to me, ‘We wouldn’t have made much profit at three-twenty after auction costs, so there’s no point in going any further.’