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Chapters (71)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. Part One
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Part Two
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Part Three
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Thirty-Five
  41. Thirty-Six
  42. Thirty-Seven
  43. Thirty-Eight
  44. Thirty-Nine
  45. Forty
  46. Forty-One
  47. Forty-Two
  48. Forty-Three
  49. Forty-Four
  50. Part Four
  51. Forty-Five
  52. Forty-Six
  53. Forty-Seven
  54. Forty-Eight
  55. Forty-Nine
  56. Fifty
  57. Fifty-One
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Part Five
  61. Fifty-Four
  62. Fifty-Five
  63. Fifty-Six
  64. Fifty-Seven
  65. Fifty-Eight
  66. Fifty-Nine
  67. Sixty
  68. Sixty-One
  69. Books by Barbara Taylor Bradford
  70. About the Author
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

“I understand why.” Adrian remarked. “It’s lovely. A good buy, Harry. You did well on your trip.”

“And where is the other Cézanne?” Robert asked, and then spotted it on the wall near the door. Once again, he hurried to look at it, and stared hard, at first liking it, and then, after only a short while, he was frowning, feeling suddenly puzzled.

The painting was of two women picking fruit, and he had seen photographs of it, knew it well. Again, as it usually was with Cézanne, there was a great deal of green against a blue sky. The women wore white, and one had her back turned.

After a few minutes, Robert said, “What’s the actual name of this Cézanne, Harry? It’s about picking fruit. Oh, I’ve remembered; it’s called Women Picking Fruit, and it was painted about 1877, I believe.”

“You’re correct. So you know it, do you? Harry sounded surprised.

“Yes. Well, sort of … I’ve seen photographs of it, and I now recall that I saw it fleetingly in the Fauvre Gallery in Paris. Two years ago, along with a painting of nude women bathers.”

“Cézanne did several paintings of nude women in a forest with a stream. What I mean is several versions of the same group,” Harry explained. “Over several years.”

Robert simply nodded and gazed at the painting again. “I got a glance of The Fruit Pickers at his gallery.…”

He let his voice trail off, puzzled still. Then he realized the painting wasn’t right. He went closer, acknowledging to himself that it definitely was not right. Therefore, it was wrong. And in the parlance of the art world, that meant it was a fake if it was wrong.

How could this be a fake? Cézanne was still alive.

Would anyone dare to copy one of his works of art and pass it off as the genuine thing? Robert doubted it. Perhaps he was being overly critical because the painting appeared to be different, not as good as he remembered it. But better to keep silent. He would not say a word to Harry because he needed another opinion, and he didn’t have any friends who knew more than he did about the Impressionist painters. And, of course, he could be wrong. Perhaps his memory held a brighter, sharper painting than the one he was looking at now. Let it go, he warned himself. You’re asking for trouble if you voice your doubts about its authenticity.

Adrian came over and said, “I must remind you, Robert, we have to leave at once if we are to reach London at the time you wish to be there.”

“Oh God, yes. We must leave!” Robert exclaimed, swinging around. Glancing at Harry, he added, “What a treat to see your new acquisitions. Great choices, old chap. And I’m very envious that you own that fabulous Renoir.”

Forty-Four