Brides of War (7 page)

In the financial district of New York City, Ross Johnson, walked around his new offices with a smile of satisfaction. The large space had been turned into separate offices for him and his two lawyers who’d moved with him. A reception desk was situated just inside the entrance and the central part was laid out in an open plan for the secretaries to work, separated only with partitions, which made the area light and airy.

The walls had been painted in the palest green which offset the potted plants very well. There was a water cooler and coffee machine in one corner and copy machines on another wall. It was all very attractive and workable, and the staff were delighted. They were now open for business.

All Ross’s clients had followed him, as had the clients of the other two lawyers, but Ross had set up appointments to see one or two large firms, hoping to convince them that moving their business to him and his associates would be to their advantage. To his delight, one had accepted, bringing a million dollars a year into their coffers.

He was delighted with his success as this had been what
he’d wanted his father to do and had been sharply rebuked for such ideas. Leo hadn’t wanted to extend his business into corporate litigation. The idea unsettled him. He’d forged his own way of doing business for years and he was scared of changing to such a degree, but now Ross was ecstatic with his new client. All law firms had their own grapevine and Leo Johnson soon heard about Ross’s new client. He was scathing in his opinion.

‘That boy comes home from the war filled with new ideas, but he’s taken on more than he can handle now. Before very long he’ll come unstuck; well he’d better not come running to me for help. When he walked out of the family business, he shut the door very tightly behind him!’

Whilst Ross was busy, Valerie had joined the art class and was learning how to use watercolour. She was delighted with the result and had set up their spare bedroom as a studio because the light was so good. She had rediscovered her love of drawing and when she had any free time, she would take her canvas and easel with her, find a scene that was interesting and paint. One morning she wandered into Central Park, settled in a quiet corner and lost herself in her work. She was used to people stopping and watching. Sometimes they would comment, other times just walk on, but it didn’t distract her. She was pleased to talk to those who wanted to chat and often it would lead to really interesting conversations.

‘I have to say Mrs Johnson, that you have grasped the use of watercolours extremely well. That is delightful!’

She looked up and saw Max Brennen looking over her shoulder.

‘Max! What a surprise! How are you?’

‘Very well, thanks. Tell me, when did you start using watercolours?’

She told him about joining the art class in the Village. ‘You were right of course, it does give my drawing more depth, brings them alive really.’

He knew about the class as it wasn’t far from the gallery where he displayed his own paintings and his apartment. ‘You know, Valerie, you have a real talent, you should hold an exhibition of your own.’

She felt her cheeks flush at the compliment. ‘Oh I don’t know about that, but the class is holding an exhibition in two weeks’ time and a couple of my paintings are among the exhibits.’

‘That’s splendid. I’ll make sure I come along. I have to fly I’m afraid or I’d invite you to come for a coffee somewhere. See you soon.’

Valerie was thrilled that he liked her work. As for giving an exhibition of her own, she felt that was a step too far, but she was excited at the thought that he would be at the class exhibition because she so admired his work. She also wanted Ross to see how she’d improved. He’d never come into her studio and seen anything she was working on. Whenever he came home, he relaxed with a drink and a meal and then most evenings he brought work home with him. She’d not complained, knowing how hard he was trying to build his own business and she so wanted him to succeed, just to prove to his family that his ideas for the future had been solid.

Two weeks later, Valerie was standing nervously looking at her paintings on the wall in the hall of the art class, which
had been set up for the evening’s viewing. She stood back and eyed them critically. She thought she couldn’t have improved them in any way, but as usual, she was fearful of failure. She so hoped that Ross would be impressed.

The doors opened and people started to arrive. To everyone’s delight, it was very well attended. Valerie was helping to hand out the glasses of wine and chatting to various people who were enquiring about the paintings and the class. She kept glancing at her watch. Ross was late!

A hand held her arm gently. ‘Hello Valerie.’

‘Max! You came.’

‘But of course, I told you I would so why are you so surprised?’

Shrugging she said, ‘Oh I don’t know, I thought you might be too busy.’

‘What nonsense. Come on, show me your work,’

They stood in front of her paintings. One was of an old woman, sitting on a stool with a knitted shawl around her shoulders, feeding the birds – the lines on her face and hands, clearly depicting her age. It was a simple picture but it had an honesty about it. The second was of a view of Central Park with two children feeding ducks. Valerie had cleverly caught the delight on the faces of the children. It was charming.

Max looked at both for a long time in silence, then looking at Valerie he said, ‘I had no idea you did portraits too. The sketches you showed me in your apartment were scenic. These are quite extraordinary!’

She frowned. ‘In what way extraordinary?’

Laughing, Max said, ‘Relax! That wasn’t a criticism. What is so impressive is the detail. First, the old woman’s
face. Every line shows her age, the hands too. You’ve caught her spirit. The same with the children. Here is the innocence of the young, clearly depicted.’

Valerie was at a loss for words. She painted because she loved it.

Max looked at her and smiled. ‘You know the best thing of all? You have no idea just how good you really are.’

‘I don’t know what to say,’ she murmured, overcome by his praise.

‘Come on, let’s look at the rest of the exhibits.’

It was like a lesson to Valerie. Max talked to her about several of the paintings, discussing the finer points of some and how others could be improved and how to set about it. Eventually it was time to close.

‘Your husband not here?’ asked Max.

Valerie looked at her watch. ‘He said he was coming but …’

‘Right!’ Max took her by the arm. ‘I’m taking you out to dinner and we’ll have a glass of champagne to celebrate your success.’

She was so disappointed that Ross hadn’t showed up that she didn’t hesitate to accept.

He took her to a Greek restaurant and introduced her to their particular cuisine. The owner knew Max and chatted with them, making Valerie blush when he complimented Max on his beautiful young companion. They drank wine and champagne and, at the end of the dinner, the waiters and the owner lined up and danced to Greek music, eventually calling on the customers to join in. Valerie and Max included. It was great fun.

When the music stopped, Valerie and Max returned to
their table, breathless from the dancing and the laughter.

‘Oh, Max, that’s the best evening I’ve had since I arrived in New York!’

‘Really?’ He looked surprised. ‘Then you have been sadly missing out. This city is built to be enjoyed. I’ll just have to show you how I guess.’ He held her gaze, waiting for her reaction.

Filled with bonhomie, wine and champagne, Valerie returned his gaze. ‘I’d like that very much!’

They left the restaurant and he put her in a taxi and insisted on paying the driver. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ he said and waved her off.

When she arrived home, she found Ross sitting at the dining room table, working.

‘There you are!’ He looked at his watch. ‘You’re home late.’

‘You didn’t come to my exhibition!’ she exclaimed angrily.

He dismissed her lightly. ‘Sorry, darling, I really couldn’t spare the time. I wanted to finish this tonight.’

‘You couldn’t spare an hour for your wife? Was it really that important? Couldn’t your work wait just an hour longer?’

He could see the anger in her eyes. ‘Well, darling, it’s not as if the exhibition was professional. It was just a display of the school’s students’ work.’

‘It was important to me! You expect me to show you a hundred per cent loyalty and you get a hundred and fifty, but you couldn’t spare an hour to give me the same. To you my work is just a hobby, something to keep me from getting bored. Nothing of any consequence – you have no idea!’

She swept out of the room and into the bedroom, undressed and stood under the shower until she’d calmed down, then went to bed.

When Ross climbed in beside her and put his arm around her she moved away.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she cried.

When Valerie rose the next morning, she found an empty apartment. Ross had left early and she was glad. She was still seething from the previous night’s scene. As she ate her toast, she vowed to show him. Max said she had talent. Well she’d work hard until she was good enough to hold her own exhibition, then Ross would see she was serious about her work. She took Max Brennen’s card from her handbag and rang his number.

Later that afternoon, Valerie rang the bell at Max’s studio and was greeted warmly.

‘Valerie, come in.’ He offered her a seat and with a smile asked, ‘What can I do for you? You said you wanted my advice.’

‘Yes, Max I do. You say I have real talent; well, I want to learn more. I want to do this seriously, not as a hobby. Do you think that’s at all possible?’

He looked delighted. ‘Without a doubt! You have the talent, I’ve told you that. All you need is more technical know-how. These things have to be taught. But yes, I’d say you were more than halfway there.’

‘Who would you recommend as a teacher?’

He laughed. ‘Are you kidding? I’ll teach you then, when you are a success, I can take some of the credit!’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Absolutely!’

‘But you have a job to do, apart from that you have your own pictures to work on, you don’t have time.’

‘We’ll work out a schedule. As you know, I’m able to work from home, it’s not as if I’m stuck in an office from nine to five. It would be a privilege and a pleasure. I’ll make some coffee and we’ll work out a plan.’

During the following two months, Valerie still attended the art class but three afternoons a week, she and Max painted together. Sometimes in his studio, sometimes out in the open. They travelled to various parts of the city, armed with canvas and paints, where they would settle together and work. He would stop her and show her how to improve or change the light or shade of her scene, how to use various ways with her paints, to improve the depth or to lighten the sky to enhance the weather. She had never been happier.

Ross had no idea that this was taking place. Indeed he hardly asked how she spent her day, so involved was he in his business. Before long, Valerie realised that he was just like his father in this regard. But she didn’t care because it was Max who encouraged her, who was interested in her and who understood her needs.

Then one evening when Ross was away on business, Max invited her round to his studio to dinner, saying he had a proposition he wanted to put to her. Alone and intrigued, she agreed and made her way to the Village wondering what he was going to say.

When she arrived she saw that he had laid the table, lit
several candles, which filled the room with a soft scent, and was busy in the kitchen.

‘That smells good,’ she said as she took off her coat.

He poured her a glass of wine. ‘It won’t be long,’ he promised.

He served her a delicious beef stew on a bed of rice, followed by profiteroles, which he admitted to buying ready-made. They drank red wine and talked. Valerie was so relaxed in his company and found him easy to talk to. But they never mentioned her husband.

At the end of the meal, Max made some coffee and they sat on a settee to enjoy it. It was then that he told her the reason for his invitation. It took her breath away.

‘I’m holding an exhibition of my own work in the gallery you came to and I would like you to exhibit with me.’

Valerie was speechless for a moment. ‘You can’t possibly be serious!’

‘Why ever not? You’re ready, believe me.’

‘But my pictures alongside yours! People would laugh!’

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘I can’t believe you just said that! If I didn’t think they were good enough, would I ask you to show them?’

Her hands were shaking and he took her coffee cup from her. ‘For goodness’ sake woman, calm down. Lovely Valerie, you have a God-given gift and you still don’t realise it. What do I have to do to convince you?’

She just sat shaking her head. He took her hands in his. ‘You said you wanted to be a professional, well here’s your chance.’

Looking into his eyes, she asked, ‘Do you really think that my pictures are good enough?’

‘Yes! Your paintings have an honesty about them. You see things in a different way and that shows in your pictures. It’s really refreshing and different. The public will love them. Trust me. Come along and I’ll show you the ones I have chosen.’

Valerie had stored her paintings in Max’s studio as there was more room and now she followed him and saw the six he had chosen. Recovering from her shock, she looked carefully at them and was pleased with his choice. Slowly she began to feel more confident. These were good, she knew that, but were they good enough? She supposed if Max thought so, she would have to trust him. Then he showed her the publicity poster.

She couldn’t believe what she read. It gave the name of the gallery, the date, the time and underneath …

She looked at him. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

He gazed back at her and said, ‘If I’m not very much mistaken, Valerie, your life is about to change. It will be a pleasure to stand back and watch.’ He leant forward and kissed her softly. ‘I am going to be so proud!’