‘No. I’m going to weld his pictures to the walls quickly, so there’s no question of it.’

‘But Thea! You can’t do that! You’ll never get them off and we’d have to redecorate all over again.’

‘Only joking, Molly.’ Really, by this time she shouldn’t have to explain all her jokes to Molly. Gently, she set the puppy back on its feet.

‘Are you going to ring Ben and tell him the news?’

‘Nope,’ Thea said firmly. ‘If you think he needs to know, you ring him. Personally I think he could just find out when he gets his invitation to the private view.’

‘Thea! What have you got against Ben, all of a sudden? I thought you liked him.’

‘Did you? Oh, well. You tell him if you want to. I really don’t mind one way or the other. Now, lovey, I’ve got a million things to do. I’ll see you at the gallery in about an hour.’

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

The gallery seemed larger, whiter and brighter than it had done only a few days ago. The sun, shining through the massive windows, added to the impression of a huge light space. One of the big windows still had to be blocked off, to make extra space, but now Thea just enjoyed the sense of airy joy the place gave her.

She went downstairs to where Rory’s pictures, shrouded in bubble-wrap, were stacked in the passage. She hadn’t allowed herself to look at them when she thought they might be denied to her. Now she dragged one of them into the big gallery and undraped a landscape.

It took her straight back to Ireland. She could almost feel the cold air on her face, the bright sun in her eyes. She knew the feel of the sea against her ankles if she went down to the shore and took her shoes off.

She propped it against the wall and dragged out another. Molly would be here in a minute, full of bustle and questions about the private view. Should they serve canapés, what sort of wine? Now, she wanted a really private view, just her and the paintings, with no one else around.

Her reverie was pitifully short. Molly arrived, as Thea had predicted, the party for the private view her chief concern. She barely glanced at the paintings.

‘I think we should serve things to eat, otherwise people will just lap up the free wine and get plastered.’

Well, she certainly didn’t want Rory getting plastered – perhaps food was a good idea. ‘OK, Molly, what sort of things do you think? Sandwiches, sausage rolls? Little quiches?’

Molly looked appalled; working with Thea could be very difficult. The poor girl had no idea what was what. ‘I was thinking blinis with caviar, a little sushi, perhaps. Maybe smoked salmon, that sort of thing?’