Julia

by Marty Sorensen

  *

  In his office, Hugh looked up from his desk when he heard the doorbell ring. Rather than wait for Mrs. Willow he went down to the entrance foyer, waving her off when he saw her coming in from the kitchen. He opened the door, greeted Hans Seifert warmly, and took him up the stairs to his office.

  “Please, have a seat.” Hugh pointed to the red leather chair in front of his desk.

  Seifert put his briefcase on the floor and spoke as he opened it and searched for documents. “Hugh, as we discussed on the phone, your transaction has been approved. Our Zurich headquarters expedited your request, which is important under the circumstances of events in Europe. We have deposited your check with our New York bank, J.P. Morgan and Company, but-“

  Hugh looked surprised as he interrupted Seifert. “J.P. Morgan? That’s another bank.”

  Seifert nodded and smiled. “Mr. Stuart, we are an international business bank, not a retail bank. By design. Is this your first international transaction?”

  Hugh, humbled, responded. “No, but it’s my first one for five million dollars during a time when we are headed for war.”

  “I see.” Seifert thought for a moment. “Do you have any concerns about our bank? You did diligently study Zurich Bank before you came to us, did you not?”

  “Oh, yes, of course. Luther did that for us. No problem there.”

  “Good, then it’s just a case of first time jitters. Or rather, caution. I understand perfectly. Why don’t we proceed with signing the necessary documents?”

  Hugh nodded.

  Seifert brought the stack of documents to Hugh’s side of the desk and put them before him. “I’ll go through them one by one, and we’ll both sign each one at the same time. Is that satisfactory for you?”

  “Certainly.”

  When they had finished signing the documents, Seifert gathered one set and handed it to Hugh, then walked back to his chair and put the other set in his briefcase.

  Hugh put the papers in a drawer in his desk. “Can I offer you coffee, or a cigarette, or a cigar, for that matter?”

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Stuart, but I don’t smoke.”

  “How about we go to the library then, and have, say a glass of sherry or something?”

  “That would be fine. I would like to see your library. You have a fine home, that much is evident.”

  “Wait just one minute, Hans, while I make arrangements for my wife and mother to meet us there.”

  “Certainly.”

  Hugh found both of them in the library, each quietly reading. Julia had changed to a black silk pleated dress, and her hair fell in lovely curls around her shoulder. Grace wore a Navy blue day dress with small flowers. They both looked up and smiled expectantly. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Hugh ushered Hans into the library and introduced him. The women stood. Hans offered his hand with a formal Germanic bow to Grace, and kissed her hand as he looked her in the eyes, which she accepted with a wide smile. She looked over to Hugh in obvious approval. Hans turned and did the same to Julia, who also smiled, but the smile was formal and reserved.

  “Hans and I have completed the transaction for the gold bullion. I hope we will be able to complete more transactions in the future.”

  Hans nodded. “Yes, it is my hope as well. We do have war preparations all over Europe. As you know, the Spanish civil war was concluded just last April, but the German armed forces are poised on the border with Poland, and so, matters will become very complicated. Mr. Stuart was wise to complete these transactions before war breaks out again.”

  Grace sat up and folded her hands on her chest, her eyes dark. “War? Surely there will not be war?”

  Hans looked at Hugh for a hint of how to proceed. Hugh turned to his mother.

  “Mother, you do read the papers. You know that war is likely in Europe. War is always likely in Europe. But we shall stay out of it. We learned our lesson the last time.”

  Hans smiled, then said, “And, as you also know, Switzerland has been a neutral country for over a thousand years. Your investment is safe with us.”

  Grace sat back, relieved.

  Hans’s eyes moved around the room, and then he made a sweeping gesture with a hand. “I see you have some lovely paintings in this room. Would you mind if I observed them more closely?” He said this to Grace, who looked at Hugh.

  Hugh motioned for Hans to follow him to a wall. Together they stood before the Signac.

  Hans nodded in appreciation. “Of course, I am not an art expert, but as an amateur of painting, I see you have something wonderful here.” He made a movement to get closer to the painting. “May I?” After Hugh gestured, Hans took out a pair of glasses and looked closely at the painting. Then he turned to Grace. “I’m not very familiar with Signac, but this is quite beautiful. I admire your taste.” Then, as if he recognized an error, he turned to Julia. “Everything in this room is lovely. We do have a painting by Paul Signac in the Kunsthaus Zurich, but I don’t remember its title. So, we have something in common, then. The next time I return home I shall be certain to visit the museum.”

  “Are you from Zurich, Mr. Seifert?” said Grace.

  “Not exactly. I am from a very small town near there. Schubelbach. It’s on the road to Liechtenstein. Well, of course, that doesn’t tell you much. My home, now, since I’ve been at the bank is in Zurich. And-“he made a bow and smile of pretend embarrassment, “Albert Einstein did his famous work in Zurich.” He looked around the room, waiting for their reaction.

  Grace and Hugh smiled.

  Julia said, “You must have many famous paintings in the Zurich museum, Mr. Seifert.”

  Hans nodded. “Yes, the Kunsthaus is a major European museum. But, you know, you have your own modest museum here in your home.”

  Hugh said, “The-as you say-modest pieces here in the library were collected by my mother and father. In my office, you may have noticed, the walls are bare. I have not yet started collecting art.” He looked over to Julia. “My wife is an art student, and perhaps one day we shall also collect something.”

  Hans turned to Julia. “Do you have a favorite painting, Mrs. Stuart?”

  Julia noted that Hans didn’t ask her about her own painting. Had Hugh already advised him that hers wasn’t good enough for hanging where family and friends could see it? “I’m with you, Mr. Seifert. My favorite in this room is the Signac. But I also very much like Cross’s La Terrasse Fleurie.”

  Hans gave a little bow. “Yes, I can see that. And my I also observe you have a beautiful French accent. Have you studied in Paris?”

  Julia laughed. “Thank you. No, I haven’t been that fortunate. But my mother was French, and she taught me as a child. I’m afraid I don’t speak it much, but I do remember my mother’s wonderful accent.”

  Hans looked at Hugh, then Julia. “May I make a suggestion? Hugh, you stated that you would like to put some pieces of art in your office. Did I understand you correctly?”

  Hugh, puzzled, nodded and said “Yes, I would like that.”

  “Well, then, perhaps I could be of service to you. I have a friend, also from Zurich, who could show you some paintings you might be interested in. His name is Karl Epple. He doesn’t have a gallery per se, but he has a home here in Manhattan where he has what you might call an informal gallery. You see, he has just recently established himself here in the United States. I myself was satisfied to be able to help him find suitable lodging. If you would allow me to introduce you to Karl, I would be very happy.”

  Hugh looked at Julia. “My Dear, what do you think?”

  “Of course,” she said. “We haven’t as yet made any plans for acquiring art for Hugh’s office. Your friend Mr. Epple would be an excellent place to start.” She was startled to learn that she had suddenly become valuable to Hugh, she whose art hung in a child’s bedroom.

  “Naturally,” Hans said. “But you see, I note that you have such fine taste, it would be very important for Karl, Mr. Epple, to have y
ou as patrons. Oh, that may be too strong a word. Customers, shall we say? And there is no obligation. I am merely happy if I have brought people together. I can arrange it for next week if you like?”

  Julia said, “Where hi-- his-informal gallery-Mr. Seifert?”

  “He has a brownstone on the Upper West Side, 95th, I think. It’s his home, actually.”

  “We would be happy to visit him. Don’t you agree, Hugh?”

  “Yes, we look forward to it.”