Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
brIGHTON
The Gallery
It was May the second and Victoria’s first day of freedom from Glovers. Boarding the train at Clapham Junction, she balanced her large art porfolio case in front of her legs, put her bag on the seat next to her and cosied herself in a window seat.
The previous week had been one of big changes, what with leaving Glovers as a permanent employee and giving notice on her Wandsworth flat. To her mum’s delight, she had decided she would spend more time in Windsor while still living in London until the lease expired.
Getting ready that morning, she had felt like she was going for a real interview, not just to show Danny her artwork. Her ultimate goal was for him to exhibit and sell some of her creations, but he had been really straight with her, saying that he had a business to run, so it wasn’t guaranteed he could take her work. As the train made its merry way down to the south coast, she began to feel rather nervous.
She had chosen to take a post-rush-hour train so there was room for her portfolio case, and also because, with her new-found freelance freedom, she could now enjoy that luxury. Feeling thankful that nobody had sat next to her yet, she stuck her earphones into her iPod and laid her head back on the seat.
She was in the habit of playing ‘Nobody Knows’ by Pink over and over, not just because she loved it, but also because it was about feelings that one can have but not show to the outside world. Pink had described it as the most vulnerable track on the album. And vulnerable was how Vic felt these days. In fact, she loved the whole I’m Not Dead album because, at that moment in time, even its name was almost amusingly relevant, and many of its tracks were powerful, too. And that was what she needed in her life just now. A bit of Pink power to get her through the uncertain times ahead.
Putting her phone on the tray in front of her, she was just about to relax and listen to her album when she saw a message come in. Seeing that it was from Nate, she took a sharp intake of breath. Then, on taking in the postcard-like verbiage, she shook her head in disbelief.
Really hope you’re OK. Ace here. Job great. Nate x
She was just ruing the fact that this was the best her ex of six years could muster, after the limited contact they had had since March, when another text popped in, from Ray.
Hope you’re good. I’ve told Jerico you’re a free agent now – professionally, I mean – & have given him your number. He has another book on the bubble – do you mind? Rx
Vic shook her head at Ray’s comment and replied immediately.
I’m all good, and that’s great, thanks! V x
She was just walking from Brighton train station in the direction of Danny’s gallery, when her mobile rang. She answered, and hearing the posh tones of Jerico Flint brought an instant smile to her lips.
‘Queen Victoria? It’s Jerico Flint. How dare you run away and not tell me? Mr Pigeons is really quite furious. And is that the squawk of seagulls I hear?’
Vic laughed. ‘I totally understand that the consequences for Mr Pigeons would be far too great to bear if I did that.’
‘Yes, yes, indeed.’
She knew he was smiling. He then took an exaggerated breath. ‘Well, I won’t bother you now, as I’m assuming you’re away.’
‘I’m just in Brighton for the day. I understand Mr Pigeons needs another jacket? I’m happy to help you with that. In fact, I’d love to,’ Vic laughed. ‘Dare I ask where he’s off to now?’
‘Sidmouth, actually.’
‘Oh.’ Vic giggled. ‘Not far then.’
‘ Mr Pigeons and the Devon Donkey Sanctuary .’ Jerico slipped into a fine Devonian twang. ‘Subtitle: The Perils of Perissodactyla .’
‘Of what?’ Vic shook her head. ‘And not St Lucia this time? I kind of thought Mr Pigeons and the Perilous Pitons had a certain ring to it.’
‘Very good, very good. Maybe that should be the next one. No. I think I need to keep his detective work on our hallowed turf for consistency, for now at least. The Waterloo clock murder went down a storm. Reached five thousand in the Detective Tales chart this time.’
‘That’s great. Hmm, so, I understand him detecting in cities like Glasgow and London, but do any major crimes actually happen in Devon?’
‘Oh, dear girl, Agatha Christie will be turning in her grave at that preposterous comment. ’
‘Oh shit, yes. Silly me.’ With her portfolio case gripped tightly to her, Vic shimmied her way through a group of people who were milling around outside the twenty-four-hour café where she had confessed all to her girls. It made her think back to that fateful night with Danny, seven months ago now. How time had flown. And how things had changed since then. And how ironic that what had happened then – the worst thing that had ever happened to her – was now leading her to potentially fulfilling one of her dreams of exhibiting her work in a real-life gallery. Granted it wasn’t her own place, but… one step at a time…
‘Are you there? Sounds awfully noisy.’ Jerico jolted her out of her thoughts.
‘Yes, yes. Just thinking it would probably be easier to meet you in person for the brief, rather than you doing it over the phone, but I’m staying in Windsor with my mum for the rest of this week.’
‘Really? That’s perfect. I’d rather not travel into town either, to be honest.’ The author was back in his posh southern accent now.
‘Oh, I assumed you were London-based.’ Vic stopped on the corner of the road that led down to Danny’s gallery. She tilted her face to the sky and took in the sun’s warming spring rays. Just seeing the ocean spread out in front of her lifted her soul. A relaxed smile crossed her lips.
‘One must never assume, for it makes an ass out of you and me.’ Jerico continued without taking a breath, ‘Anyway, how about this Friday coming? Say, midday? And I know exactly the place to meet you, Queen Victoria.’
‘Go on.’ Vic checked her watch and grimaced. She had five minutes until she’d said she’d be at Danny’s and she hated being late. But she also loved the banter of this crazy man. whom she had found so attractive since their first meeting, and who now stirred up a maelstrom of feelings within her every time they spoke.
‘At your namesake’s statue, near the castle.’
‘Sounds good to me. I’ve got to run, Jerico. See you at the bottom of Queen Victoria.’
Jerico laughed.
‘And I’ll bring my sketch pad,’ Vic sang.
‘Fabulous. Toodlepip!’ And he was gone.
Vic realised that she was laughing again – something she hadn’t done in a long while.
Danny Miller Arts was a smart and trendy outfit, set back from the seafront in the busy Brighton Lanes. As Vic approached, she noticed that the gallery had a large, curved front window, where one large, dramatic watercolour was currently displayed in pride of place. Abstract statues sat either side, on plinths of differing heights. A piece of interestingly shaped driftwood was displayed below, to frame the look. She had been so drunk the night they had staggered up to the flat above the gallery that it was as if she was seeing it all for the very first time.
Danny greeted her with a kiss and immediately offered a whirlwind tour of the premises. The walls of the gallery were painted a stark white, hung with original framed watercolours, acrylics and prints of varying sizes and prices – some still-life pencil drawings, a variety of coastal views and portraits depicting the Brighton of old and today. He informed her that local artists regularly supplied the gallery, mostly with colourful seascapes. A stylish touch was provided in the body of the shop by smart black easels, each holding a white-framed, limited-edition print. To the rear of the shop was a curved white counter, behind which a hallway led off to a discreet kitchenette, a toilet, a compact storeroom and another back room that had been converted into an art studio. On top of the counter was a small display stand of hand-painted greetings cards.
‘Victoria Sharpe, I am literally blown away.’ Danny Miller stood back and admired her paintings, which he had set up on easels in his back studio.
Vic could feel her whole body tingle with pride and excitement.
‘Really?’
‘Your seascapes are something else. The way you capture the light on the water and your use of colour on the riverboats in this one.’ He pointed to one that included Jake’s boat on the Thames at Windsor. ‘You’re a great artist, Vic.’ He had excitement in his voice. ‘Show me the smaller ones in there, too, please.’
Vic went to her case and reached for the book cover sketches she had worked on for Jerico and handed him a couple.
‘Wow, the girl does people, too. And look at those hands. I find hands so hard to paint well, and you’ve really nailed it here.’
Vic thought she would burst with pride. ‘Looking at the quality of the artists you have out front in the gallery, I don’t know what to say.’
‘You don’t have to say anything, Vic, but please know your worth. Don’t be giving any of this work away, now, will you?’ He looked at one more painting in her case. ‘Why’s this one still in here?’
‘Umm. I’m not sure about it. You like the others – let’s just leave it at that.’ Vic went to shut the case.
‘I’m intrigued now. Show me. There’s no right or wrong with art – you know that.’
Vic reluctantly lifted out the large picture. Danny immediately took it and placed it in front of one of her seascapes on an easel. They both then stared at the colourful, dynamic piece in front of them. Danny was in awe. Vic thought it looked more vibrant somehow in this setting than when it was sitting on the easel in her kitchen in Wandsworth.
It was certainly very different from all the other work she had shown Danny. A completely abstract piece. At the centre, a burst of fiery orange and deep red radiated out in what looked like swirling waves. Surrounding the intense core were softer hues of lavender and sky-blue strokes suggesting a reflective calm body of water.
Vic broke the silence. ‘I painted it last week.’
Danny suddenly kissed her on the cheek. He had tears in his eyes. He moved away to stare at it again. ‘It’s dynamic and emotive. It’s chaos and tranquillity, all rolled into one. It invites multiple interpretations. I absolutely love it!’
Vic promptly burst into tears.
‘Darling girl, what’s the matter?’
‘They are happy tears. Honestly. I got back from my recent hospital appointment and suddenly I was taken over by an urge to drop everything else and just paint. I know you get that.’
‘I really do.’ Danny’s eyes were shining.
‘I feel that this painting is me now,’ Vic enthused. ‘And you could say the fire within is the virus, but also I think it’s my core. It’s my energy to make something of myself and use my creativity. The blue I feel is the love emanating from the people around me who really do care.’ Vic laughed. ‘And maybe even an element of peace, which sounds so fucked up, considering.’
‘I get that too. I’m so happy for you.’ Vic could tell Danny really meant it. ‘Do you think this could be a new style you work with moving forward?’
‘I don’t know. I enjoyed being so free with it.’
‘See what comes out of you, eh? But for now, I would like to make you an offer that you hopefully can’t refuse.’
The bright orange orb of the sun was slowly slipping down on the horizon as the pair of them sat cross-legged on the shingle beach.
‘Our bodies are supposed to be temples, Danny Miller.’ Vic finished up her plastic glass of wine and hiccupped. ‘Dr Anna will be furious.’
Danny smiled. ‘Dr Anna need never know, and we’re celebrating you being a celebrated artist in Brighton from July, aren’t we?’
‘I am so excited. To be exhibiting in an actual gallery. It is like a dream come true for me.’
‘And me, now I’ve seen what you can do. And I’m so glad the timing fits with you.’
‘Summer is perfect. I will have other work to do for Ray before that, but it will still give me time to create some new masterpieces. Are you sure it’s OK to leave my portfolio at yours until then?’
‘Of course. It makes sense. Shall we go and get another bottle, or not?’ Danny lit a cigarette and offered her his packet.
Vic shook her head. ‘That’s something I really must say no to from now on.’ She let out a contented sigh. ‘I was intending to get home tonight. Shit. Actually, I forgot, I’m going back to Windsor tonight, so I’d better check the train times.’ She burped. ‘Oh my God, excuse me.’
‘Intention requires action, Victoria Sharpe.’
‘Then, no, I don’t want more wine, thank you very much, but how about we walk along the beach towards the train station, to try and get me nearer home at least?’
They linked arms as they walked and talked. ‘It’s certainly warmer than the last time we did this,’ Vic offered.
‘Yes, that wild weather literally signified how we were both feeling that day.’
‘I know it hasn’t been that long, but you were right about time lessening the blow.’
‘Yes,’ Danny confirmed. ‘And it sounds like you’re coping much better now.’
‘Yeah, now the actual shock is over, I am. And because I’m not taking medication yet, I guess the only life change at the moment is that I go for my regular checks at the hospital. I feel fine in myself.’
‘Yes, me too. I totally get that. So you and Nate are definitely over, then?’
‘Yes. It looks that way. He does text every so often to see how I am, but that’s it. He’s up in the Lakes now, and sounds like he’s living his best life.’
‘Silly question maybe, but do you miss him?’
‘I don’t know if I miss him, or the company of someone, to be honest. What I do miss is being held. I think bear hugs are very underrated. Just that human touch we all need, especially when we’re feeling a bit fragile.’ Vic felt herself unexpectedly well up, and she cast around for a change of subject. ‘I forgot to say, I went to an HIV drop-in centre.’
‘Oh really? How was it?’
‘A woman there implied that everything happens for a reason, but…’ Vic blew out her lips. ‘We can all grab at straws to make us feel better, can’t we?’
Danny took her hand and squeezed it, the approaching darkness and rhythmic noise of the sea washing its way up the beach giving them both space for thought. ‘I’m not into going to those places, to be honest. I don’t really want to talk about it with strangers. That’s why I’m so happy to have you in my life.’
‘Aww, yes, I do hear you. It was nerve-wracking knocking on the door, and then I just met a support worker, who was lovely. No one else had arrived, so I had a chat with her, then left. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to open up to a group of strangers but it felt like a comfortable and safe environment. And I would go again, if I felt the need to. Enough free condoms to make a life raft, too.’
‘So remind me, Vic, who have you told now?’
‘Nate, of course, and my two best friends, Orla and Mandy – although they found out by accident, really – and my boss. And they’ve all been great. But they don’t understand everything – not like you do.’
‘So, not your family?’
‘No.’ Vic sighed. ‘I don’t want to worry them.’
‘And dare I ask if there are any new men on the horizon?’ Danny asked quietly.
‘God, no. I’m not ready for that yet. Maybe not ever, the way I feel at the moment. You?’
‘Well…’
Vic let out a little gasp. ‘Wow, go on.’
‘I have met someone, yes. Philip. He’s great. A session musician, which is pretty cool. So he’s around enough to keep me interested but not so much that he gets under my feet. I felt comfortable enough with him to be honest from the start and he seems to really like me for me. He is fully aware of the situation, so we are getting to know each other and having fun.’
‘Aww, that’s amazing – and no wonder you’ve been busy!’
‘I will always have time for you, though, Vic, and it is early days but I feel good and, to be honest, I can’t believe how easy it was to tell him.’
‘I do think telling a hetero man will be so different to telling a gay or bi man. It’s kind of… just different, I think. HIV has been around in your world for so much longer – or maybe it’s just me and my own lack of exposure and awareness to it, I guess.’
‘I think you’re overthinking it, Vic. Of course it’s going to be hard and frightening to tell anyone but if that someone is decent and emotionally aware, they will be straight with you. My advice would be, a couple of dates in, if you like them, then throw it out there. It’s their loss if they can’t see what kind of amazing person is in front of them.’
‘You make it all sound so damn easy, Danny Miller.’ Vic sighed deeply. ‘I feel dirty . And I know I shouldn’t, but that is how I feel. And what if they’re really horrible to me? I don’t know how I’d cope.’
‘You, my lovely girl, are not dirty. In fact, you are possibly one of the most fragrant women I’ve ever slept with. Saying that, I’ve only slept with you and one other.’
They both laughed. Then Danny stopped walking. Small waves crashed against the shoreline, the moon now highlighing its twinkly path across the infinite ocean. ‘Come here, you.’ The handsome blond pulled Vic towards him and, wrapping his toned arms around her, held her closely to his chest. ‘Is that tight enough, madam?’
‘No. Tighter.’ Vic exaggerated her grip around Danny’s back, then nuzzled her face into his neck and breathed slowly and deeply. After what seemed like an age, and only when she felt fully hugged, did she pull away.
‘I so, so needed that. Thank you, so much.’
‘There’s lots more where that came from, my little painter girl. And you’ll be here for the summer, so you can claim as many of them as you want.’
It was gone midnight when Victoria arrived back in Windsor. She’d really enjoyed seeing Danny, and even without his amazing hugs, she had felt held by him. He had been and continued to be her constant support through everything, and for that she was truly grateful.
The brisk walk from the train station had woken her up slightly but she certainly felt ready for her bed as she turned the corner into Simpson Crescent.
She was just reaching in her handbag for her door key when she noticed Joti’s outside light come on, then a figure strolling down the path, then on towards a van parked on the opposite side of the road to where Vic was walking.
Nosily wondering what her mum’s neighbour was up to at this time of night on a Tuesday, she hurriedly walked as near to the back of the van as she could, then wished she hadn’t. For there, sitting in the driver’s seat with a contented look on his face, and rolling a cigarette, was her Albie. She tapped on the passenger window, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.
She lowered her head to talk. ‘You all right, bro?’
As the window went down, she clocked his ‘guilty face’ immediately. ‘Jesus, sis, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing?’
‘I think it’s me who should be asking you that question, don’t you?’
Albie bit his lip, then lit the cigarette, forcing his sister to go first.
‘Well, I’ve been to Brighton to see a mate.’
‘Nice. I’m heading home now myself, so let’s catch up soon, all right?’
‘Is Mum OK?’ Inspector Sharpe wasn’t letting this go.
‘Yeah, yeah. I’ve er… just been helping Joti. Umm… she had a problem with her stop cock.’ He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, which set Vic off too. ‘Look, it’s not what it looks like.’
‘Is it ever?’ Vic smirked.
‘She seemed upset. I comforted her.’
‘I bet you did. And where does Lisa fit into all this?’
‘Not now, sis, I’ve got to get home. She thinks I was having dinner with Mum, and it’s really late. You won’t say anything, will you? Like… to anyone, I mean.’
‘If you can’t trust your blood, then who can you trust, really?’ Vic blew him a kiss through the open window.
Albie looked her directly in the eyes. ‘Ditto, Vic, ditto. And, I really mean that, OK? I love you, Vic. ’
‘Blimey, you must be feeling guilty.’
After waving her errant brother off, Vic tiptoed through the hall so as not to wake Chandler, who was on his bed in the lounge, then headed to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. She laughed to herself at the scenario. Despite Joti stating that she wanted to be forever single, she clearly needed comfort. Albie was without doubt a chip off the old block, but despite all her misgivings, he was still her brother and she loved him with all her heart.