Playing the Game

‘You want to go through the requests for interviews, is that it?’

‘It is,’ he answered, and pushed back his chair. ‘Let’s go and sit in my den and scan them. It won’t take long.’

Annette was glad to escape the flat after several hours had been spent on deciding about the journalist who would do the interview with her. Marius had finally settled on the one he wanted, who he thought would draw the best portrait of her in words.

The man’s name was Jack Chalmers, and Marcus knew a little about him already. But in order to check him out properly, glean a few more facts, he had phoned Malcolm Stevens a short while ago – ‘just to get the lowdown', was the way he put it.

According to Malcolm, who was a fund of information about all sorts of people and things, Chalmers was a young hotshot reporter who had swiftly risen up through the ranks of British journalism to make a name for himself. He had also written two brilliant histories of World War II, and was highly respected by editors and colleagues alike. At the moment, Chalmers was under contract to the Sunday Times, and wrote profiles of people in the news for the paper.

Apparently he was considered to be a nice chap, never needed to go for the jugular, or felt it necessary to stick a knife into the heart of an interviewee. Yet he managed to write riveting copy that everybody lapped up. ‘Without resorting to invective or bitchiness,’ Malcolm had finished, adding, ‘That’s a formidable talent.’

After repeating the rest of Malcolm’s conversation to her, Marius had made the final decision, although he had also said, ‘If that’s all right with you, darling.’ He always said that, and had for years, but it meant nothing.

Of course it was all right with her. She had never had any choice, actually. About anything. Marius was the law.

As she walked down Eaton Square, heading for her sister’s flat in Chesham Place, Annette suddenly filled up with anger. It rose like bile in her throat, choking her. But it was not anger at Marius; rather it was anger with herself.

Why was she so weak-kneed? Why did she accept whatever he said as the gospel? She had done that last night, had allowed him to manipulate her out of having the auction in New York.

She had sat back this morning as Marius had chatted away to Malcolm, and again had nodded in agreement when he had settled on Jack Chalmers.

She was a fool, and she knew it. She could be, and had been, very strong about a lot of things in the last twenty-one years, and yet when it came to herself and what she wanted, she just gave in without a protest.

Oh, to hell with it, she thought, trying to push all these worrisome thoughts away. Who the hell cares about Jack Chalmers! Robin Hood or Tom Thumb can come and interview me for all I care. The interview was a nuisance anyway. She couldn’t wait to do it, get it over with and move on to more important things.

Her main concern at the moment was Laurie, and the disappointment her sister would experience when she found out they were not going to New York after all. Annette suffered when she could not follow up on something she had promised Laurie, even though this only occasionally happened. The car crash had ruined Laurie’s life; Annette forever endeavoured to give her sister joy and a little fun, and make living less boring for her.

She’ll guess straight away, Annette thought, as she stepped into the foyer of the flat and greeted Angie, Laurie’s carer. She’ll read my face, she decided as she shed her coat. In order to forestall this, Annette pushed a smile on to her face, and went into the living room, exclaiming, ‘Here I am! Sorry I’m late.’

‘That’s all right, Annette,’ Laurie answered, smiling. ‘I was busy talking to Malcolm, anyway – we had a few things to discuss. I just finished another pile of research for him and he’s going to take me to dinner tonight. As a special treat.’

‘That’s great; he’s always been so nice with you,’ Annette murmured, bent over and kissed her sister, sat down in the chair next to her. ‘Where do you want to go for lunch?’

Laurie shook her head. ‘We’re not going out. Mrs Groome is making lunch for us today, and so we’re going to have it here. I hope that’s all right?’

‘It’s fine, whatever you want.’ Annette reached out, touched her arm, and said, ‘Listen, before we get lost in our usual chitchat, I’ve something to tell you.’

Laurie stared at her, frowned. ‘You sound very serious all of a sudden. What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong, not in the sense you mean. But I’m afraid we won’t be sailing off to New York on the Queen Elizabeth. I hate to disappoint you, but Marius thinks we should have the auction in London, not New York.’

Laurie’s face dropped, but in an instant a smile spread across her face. ‘Oh, don’t worry. Malcolm had wanted to come with us on the trip, so perhaps the three of us could still go – after the auction in London, I mean.’

‘Malcolm wanted to come with us?’ Annette sounded startled. ‘I didn’t know you were … so friendly.’

‘Oh, yes, we are. Very, very good friends. He often comes over for dinner, and he takes me out quite a lot.’

For a moment Annette didn’t quite know what to say, so surprised was she, but she finally found her voice. ‘Well, he’s always been one of my favourites and I know he’ll look after you properly when you’re out together.’

Laurie burst out laughing. ‘I can look after myself, you know that. And we’re good friends,’ she added again. ‘We enjoy each other’s company; we’ve a great deal in common.’

‘I know you do.’ Annette sat very still for a moment, staring into the fire, watching the flames shoot up the chimney. She wondered if Marius would approve of this growing friendship, and then pushed the thought away. One thing was certain. She would never permit him to interfere in Laurie’s life.

As if Laurie were seeing into her head, she said, ‘I know you’re angry with Marius. Inside, Annette. You’re not showing it, but I can feel it. You’re angry because he always manages to manipulate you, control you. And listen, why does he think London’s better for the auction?’

‘Because I had my first big auction here with the Rembrandt. My first big success. He wants me to repeat it … wants it to be bigger and better.’

‘But you could have done that in New York, couldn’t you? Made it bigger and better?’

‘I think so. But perhaps he knows something I don’t.’

‘I suppose it doesn’t matter really,’ Laurie murmured, giving her sister a hard stare. ‘When there’s a newly discovered Degas sculpture, and especially when it’s The Little Fourteen-Year-Old Dancer, you know the auction is going to be a smash hit wherever it’s held.’

Annette stared back. ‘How right you are,’ she responded, thinking how smart her sister was. She also realized that Marius had known exactly the same thing. They could easily have had the auction in New York, it would have worked just as well there as here, because of the fame and quality of the artworks. But for a reason she had no inkling of, he had been determined to make her have the auction in London.

Laurie swung her chair slightly, faced Annette, smiled at her sister. ‘Listen, I know it annoys you, this controlling of his, the manipulation that’s gone on for years. But you do get your own way in so many other things, because you’re very clever. And he has always looked after us, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes, and I’ve always played the game, been loyal to him.’

There was a pause before Laurie said, ‘Whatever would we have done without him?’

‘I don’t know,’ Annette answered, thinking that she might have gone to jail and Laurie would have been dependent on the kindness of their aunt. Not very great prospects, to say the least. Taking a deep breath, she remarked in a very positive voice, ‘The main thing is to make the auction a big success. So I guess where it’s held doesn’t really matter. Now, on to something else. You’re an avid newspaper reader … have you ever heard of a journalist called Jack Chalmers?’