Title page

Dedication

For Mum

Painting in the Shadows

Great art can make even the most powerful person seem insignificant – and I’m not important, by any means. Except, perhaps, to my dog, my mother and, occasionally, my clients. And to my best friend, John. Maybe that’s why I feel so small as I approach the low, semi-circular portal, punched in the side of the bluestone fortress that is the Melbourne International Museum of Art. The fact that MIMA’s trade entrance is known as the mousehole probably doesn’t help. Luckily, John is already there when I come round the corner and I lengthen my stride, trying for cool and confident.

‘You’d better have a picnic basket stashed around here some­where.’ I stop a few metres away. ‘We are doing lunch, right?’

He squints and shields his face. ‘We are. Once your mind has been completely blown. We’re going inside for half an hour tops and then I’ll wine and dine you in the finest, tax-deductible style.’ John buffs his nails on the front of his vintage red and cream bowling shirt.

I roll my eyes behind my dark Ray-Bans. ‘Lucky me. I think I might wait here.’

‘Sure. Meanwhile I’m off for a private view of an amazing, yet-to-be-opened exhibition. See you in a bit.’

‘Masterpieces of Victorian Britain?’

‘There’s some great stuff, according to Giles. Millais’ Mariana and something Arthurian by Burne-Jones spring to mind.’ John is doing his version of a discreet happy dance. It involves a lot of shoulder action while his feet are firmly rooted to the spot. Fortunately, we’re alone.

‘John.’ I realise my hand is squeezing the strap of my bag, and I force myself to take a breath and let it go. ‘I can’t.’ I look over his shoulder at the Museum and feel my stomach drop.

‘It’s only Giles. You like him, right? And did you hear me mention Burne-Jones? Besides, you come here all the time.’

‘Only through the public entrance and not when there’s a chance I’ll run into anyone.’

‘Your angst is totally misplaced, and anyway, this will be worth it. Trust me.’

‘After your false promises of lunch? It’s been ages since we caught up – so pleased you could squeeze me in, by the way – but I think I’ll leave the exhibition until it opens next week.’

‘Nuh-uh! You know this is your thing, and besides, you’ve got me to look out for you.’