Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
brIGHTON
The Customer
Four days later, after a busy day in the gallery, Vic was restocking hand-painted cards in the small rack on the counter with her back to the door when she was startled by a slow, molasses-like, southern American drawl behind her.
‘I’m not interested in those ropey old cover illustrations in the window, y’all, but where can I buy those interesting-sounding detective books, honey child?’
Startled, Vic spun around and not only felt the blood rushing to her cheeks but a million butterflies start to have a party in her stomach.
‘Jerico?’
‘Queen Victoria.’ He doffed his smart white fedora with its fetching black band at her.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same. Being honest, I didn’t know you’d be here.’ Jerico faltered; his voice went quieter. ‘But I really hoped that you would be.’
Vic managed to stop herself from saying ‘Aww’ out loud as the handsome one continued: ‘The newspaper article omitted that bit. So that’s quite the bonus all round, isn’t it?’ He grinned.
‘I didn’t know it had gone national?’ Vic looked confused.
‘Not yet, no.’ Jerico smiled. ‘A friend of mine lives in Hove, and he told me. And, well, if anyone is going to buy prints of my book covers, it had to be me, surely.’ He pulled out a wallet which was crammed full of cash. ‘Two hundred and fifty each for the covers, is that right?’
‘But you’ve already got the originals?’ Vic queried.
Jerico ignored her. ‘And I want the abstract, too; it’s incredible. I had no clue you painted like that.’
‘Nor did I, until recently,’ Vic flustered. ‘And I’m sure I can speak to Danny – he’s the owner here – and get you a discount.’
‘Queen V, when you recognise your true worth, you’ll no longer offer others a bargain on your brilliance.’ Jerico reached for his wallet.
Vic felt her eyes well. ‘Aw. That’s so lovely.’
‘I take it cash is OK.’
Before Vic had time to answer, Jerico started laying out fifty-pound notes on the counter. ‘You can surely afford to buy me an ice cream now?’
‘I haven’t been on Brighton pier for years,’ Jerico said, carrying on licking the vanilla-stacked 99, with its scrummy Cadbury’s Flake stuffed inside, that Vic had insisted they both get.
‘I love it here.’ She tapped the bench they were sitting on. ‘This has replaced my thinking bench on the river in Windsor.’
‘I think everyone should have a special place where they take time out to think. Especially out in the natural world – that’s where I get my thoughts straight, for sure.’ Jerico laid his head back to take in the last of the evening rays.
‘Do you have a special place, then?’ Vic asked .
‘If I tell you that, then not only will it not be special anymore, but Mr Pigeons may have to kill you.’
‘Fair,’ Vic answered, carrying on licking her ice cream. ‘Mr Cool.’ After a pause, she said, ‘It’s been bugging me. I’ve just realised who you remind me of in that hat: Mr Cool.’
‘Clever you! Of course, Mr Cool, one of the Vettriano paintings in the book I gave you. I actually have that very print up in my study.’
‘Yes! You have the same hat, and it looks as if the couple are on a pier. Not sure I could rock the pink polka-dot number the woman is wearing in it, though.’
‘Oh, I think you’d give it a good go, but then again, she does look quite demure.’
‘Oi,’ Vic laughed. A beat passed. ‘Without being too nosy, what exactly is it that you do, Jerico? Because that’s quite a bit of cash you just shelled out.’
‘Maybe Mr Pigeons has been more successful than I’ve made out.’
Vic laughed. ‘Really?’
‘Well, they do say don’t judge a book by its cover.’
‘You cheeky…’ She poked him gently in his side.
‘I’m teasing you. My father was a very successful banker. He and my mother have sadly both gone now. They would have loved you.’ His voice cracked slightly. ‘Mum had me late, and they passed within a year of each other. Mum couldn’t live without the silly old bugger.’ He shook his head and smiled. ‘They left me and my sister our old family riverside home in Bray. I bought sis out with the liquid inheritance, so I choose to write and help other people now. I’m very blessed.’
Vic squeezed his hand. ‘They broke the mould with you, that’s for sure. But in such a good way.’
They sat in silence for a minute, taking in the buzz of this iconic entertainment zone and the twinkling ocean in front of them. Shouts from four lads playing ball on the beach travelled on the soft breeze. But Vic’s mind was far from quiet. Should she mention the kiss? Should she apologise for not responding to him? Should she tell him about Nate… and also, why did she feel nigh on euphoric that this man had come to the gallery to buy her prints?
‘So, what’s going on for you then, Queen V?’ Jerico reached the end of his cone and licked his lips. ‘You can, of course, tell me to bugger off if you want to.’
Vic reached for a tissue in her bag to wipe her now sticky fingers, then went for it. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your messages. I guess I felt a little awkward after, well… our picnic.’ She closed her eyes for a second. Why couldn’t she just tell him? Say it out loud. That she really liked him, but she was HIV-positive and didn’t want to feel not only embarrassed, but also scared of what he may think of her. Also, that she felt even worse because she didn’t know him well enough yet to gauge his reaction – whether he might run away. In fact, all she wanted to do at this very moment was to take his handsome face in her hands and kiss it right off.
‘It’s OK. Maybe I overstepped the mark,’ Jerico said, without embarrassment. ‘I mean, you’d just told me you’d split from your fella, and there’s me sticking a kiss on you without warning.’
Vic felt relieved at this get-out-of-jail-free card. ‘You didn’t overstep the mark. I enjoyed our time very much, but…’
‘Ooh, don’t you just hate it when that little b-word springs up? No wonder it rhymes with cut.’ Jerico was doing his best to hide his disappointment, but Victoria wasn’t fooled. ‘You don’t have to say any more. I get it.’
‘I need to find my way, Jerico. With what I want to do with my career, too. I’d worked in Ray’s office for ten years. I was frustrated with myself, more than with Nate – that’s my ex. Who now wants me back, as it happens.’ Victoria couldn’t seem to shut herself up. Perhaps if she kept talking, she could convince herself that she had no feelings for this amazing man in front of her.
‘We are grown-ups, we kissed, we move on.’ Jerico looked out over the sea, the tops of the waves twinkling in the still-warm evening sunshine. ‘So are you staying down here as well as working here, then?’ He turned to Vic.
‘Yes. I’ve said I’d help Danny out during the summer. I love being by the sea. Like you said, the joy of being close to nature is really helping me clear my head, and I’m sharing his apartment above the gallery on a work-for-rent basis.’
‘Wow, that’s a good deal.’
‘He’s a good friend,’ Vic added, really hoping that the Danny chat would be over soon, but alas, no.
‘Sounds like it. How do you know him? Gallery-owner-meets-artist sounds like a match made in heaven.’
‘He’s a new friend, or yes, I would have muscled in long ago.’ Vic took a sharp intake of breath as she got ready to slightly distort the truth. ‘We met at my mate Mandy’s hen weekend last year. I adore his boyfriend, too.’
Jerico’s shoulders dropped at her last comment. ‘Well, I’m glad you are starting to find your way.’ He lifted Vic’s hand to his lips. The brush of his kiss against her skin was softer than a whisper, yet it reverberated through her entire being like a thunderclap.
Her breath hitched in her throat. ‘You love a kiss, don’t you?’ was all she could muster in reply.
Jerico looked right at her. ‘I’ve always thought that if the eyes are the windows to the soul, then a kiss is surely the key to open it.’
Vic’s memory bank flashed to their picnic at the riverbank. The butterflies were back. Because even without that first kiss, she was beginning to realise just how important this eccentric, clever, funny, empathetic and charismatic man was to her .
Vic verbalised her thoughts, ‘Maybe it’s time I cleaned the lock out then, eh?’
Jerico reached for the large, carefully wrapped parcel containing his new purchases. ‘On that note…’ he slipped into Scots for a second, ‘I really must awa’.’ Then back to posh southern. ‘I’m having dinner with my friend in Hove.’ He grasped the large package to his chest. ‘And thank you for these. They are as extraordinary as the woman who painted them.’
‘You’re too kind.’ Vic’s voice wobbled slightly.
‘Nobody can ever be too kind, Queen Victoria.’ His voice lowered slightly as he tried to be casual. ‘So, are you… are you contemplating going back to your ex?’
Vic thought for a second. ‘At this moment, I’m not ruling anything in or out.’
Jerico coughed loudly to clear his throat of emotion. ‘Can you please just assure Mr Pigeons that whatever happens, you will continue to illustrate his adventures?’
Vic smiled. ‘You can, of course, reliably inform Mr Pigeons that that is a given.’