The Account

‘Then you can’t tell?’

‘It’s difficult. The Rembrandt Research Group, subsidized by the Dutch Government, examined ninety of his works and claimed that half were not genuine. Which means a lot of galleries are out millions of dollars.’

Julia, who had never spent more than £100 on a painting in her life and considered that extravagant, shook her head. ‘So there are no real experts?’

‘No.’

The fish arrived. Brand turned to her. ‘When was your mother born?’

‘In 1920.’

‘Then your grandmother was probably born before the turn of the century. Do you realize if she’d had a little money to spend how many great artists were alive at that time? Cézanne, Monet, Renoir. Utrillo was still alive in the 1950s. Of course people here weren’t even aware of avant-garde French paintings until about 1910. Until then English taste rarely went further than paintings of Highland stags.’

‘I should have had a wealthy grandmother,’ Julia said.

Brand busied himself dissecting his fish. ‘They’re still alive, your parents?’

‘They were killed in an air crash six years ago.’

‘Ah.’ She waited for the usual solicitous remark. He didn’t make it. ‘You’re not a Londoner?’

‘I was born in Birmingham.’

‘I’ve been there,’ Brand said.

‘It used to be a fine old Victorian town,’ Julia said. ‘Then the planners went to work. Now it’s a mess.’

Brand picked up his wine glass and swirled the liquid around. He looked at her, his black eyes boring into hers. ‘Is it true what Bobby Koenig said? Are you one of the most eligible women in London?’

‘A slight exaggeration.’

‘But you’re not married?’

‘No.’

‘Involved, I’m sure?’

Uncomfortable at the questioning she hesitated before replying. ‘I am involved,’ she said, more sharply than she intended. She met his gaze challengingly. ‘What about you? Where is your wife, Mr Brand?’

‘Robert, please. My wife is in Mexico. We have a place there.’

‘She doesn’t travel with you?’

‘Rarely. She dislikes hotels. She prefers to stay in Acapulco.’

‘I’ve been invited to speak there. At a conference.’

‘You’ve never been?’

‘No.’

‘You must go. It’s quite spectacular.’

‘But you prefer New York?’

‘My company is headquartered in Manhattan. And I have a house there.’

‘Where do you keep your art? In Acapulco?’

‘Can’t keep valuable paintings there. Too much heat and humidity.’

‘It sounds as if you don’t see much of your wife?’

‘No,’ Brand said. He seemed relieved when the waiter came to take their plates.

Over coffee they talked about London.

‘I don’t really dislike it as much as I make out,’ Brand said. ‘I just like to provoke Bobby Koenig. He gets so mad at me.’ He chuckled. ‘Actually I think it’s a fine city.’

‘Does Bobby always take the bait?’

‘Swallows it whole,’ Brand smiled.

‘I love this city,’ Julia said, ‘always have.’

‘You live in town?’

‘Near Regent’s Park,’ she said. ‘One of those old mansion flats.’

‘I know the area,’ he said. ‘Last year I rented a house overlooking the park.’

‘Then you must know London well?’

‘Fairly well. I’m here a lot.’

‘Then I hope we’ll see you back at the Burlington.’

‘Have no doubts about that, Julia,’ Brand said.

She held his gaze for a moment, then glanced at her watch.

‘Ye gods,’ she said. ‘Look at the time. I’ve got to be getting back.’ She jumped to her feet.

‘That’s too bad,’ Brand said. ‘I was enjoying myself.’

‘So was I,’ Julia said. ‘And I learned a lot about Canaletto.’

He stood up. ‘I think I’ll stay for a second cup. Will you be all right?’