Page 84 of In the Frame
“Wouldn’t you be upset if you were dating someone who wanted to level the Rose for flats?”
“I would never date a developer—”
I open my mouth to protest.
“—because I have Raheem, and he’s an artist too.”
“My point still stands,” I say quickly in my defense.
He shrugs and spreads his hands wide. “It’s complicated,” Noah admits.
“Exactly. And then he shows up looking for me yesterday after apparently he’s been shopping for redevelopments here in Brighton, and now, actually, I’m getting angry.”
“That’s the spirit,” Noah says cheerfully.
“And he does stupidly charming things, like he drew me a card after I gave him an art tutorial—”
“Oh my God, you gave him an art lesson—” Noah squeals in delight.
“—and he’s bought tickets to the opera—though he said I don’t have to take him—and I don’t even know what to think. Or feel. I’m very confused. It’s awful, actually. I wouldn’t wish feeling like this on my worst enemy.”
“You have to take him,” Noah says immediately. “How could you not? Aww, so sweet he drew you a card. He doesn’t seem the card-drawing type—”
“Also, he wanted to buy two of my paintings,” I blurt out, since everything’s coming out now.
“The nerve!” Noah laughs.
“Not funny,” I protest, flustered. “Remember the Brighton Pier ones?”
“Yes. Loved them—”
“Well, he wanted to buy them—at £2,000 each. The man’s clearly lost it.” I shake my head.
Noah’s eyes widen. “Holy fuck, Matty. That’s 4,000 quid—”
“I said no.” I sit up straight, holding my drink, giving Noah a stern look. “It’s not reasonable.”
Noah stares at me and clutches his head as though I’m causing him physical pain. “Never say no to a buyer. Especially when they are willing to put down bank. First rule of art club.”
“I have my principles, in my defense—”
“Fuck principles. Get paid.”
We stare at each other in a stalemate.
“Listen to me, Matty.” He holds up a hand. “I’ve got things to say. First, go to the opera with him. Second, let him buy the damn paintings. You’re broke, after all, and it shows demand for your work. It’ll put your prices up. Also, get your arse painting again. And third, go see your doctor because I still think you’re depressed. Fourth, you’re not responsible for what happens with the Rose.”
When I open my mouth, he shakes his head with authority. “Not done yet. Also, you should know we are having a fundraiser to try to save the Rose. Ellie’s leading it. Which may be a pipe dream, because the Rose is evidently worth a couple of million, but worst case, it’ll give us money towards a deposit to lease another building if we must. We want to show Brighton that the Rose means something to us. And it should be saved. Or, hell, have a brilliant party on the way out.”
I brighten, ignoring the way out part. “Seriously? There’s an actual fundraiser? I thought the deal was done.”
“Not yet. Not a hundred percent. Raheem caught Lenny later in the day and asked flat out because he has the balls to do that. And Lenny said the deal’s not sealed in blood. They’ll need to do surveys and whatnot. There’s a chance.”
“Right. Okay, tell me more about this fundraiser.”
“In September. We’re gonna hold it at a pub and invite everyone we know and strangers and have a band and auction and all sorts. You should come. Unless it’s triggering. In which case, don’t come, but sell art. Not the beach paintings, before you get any wise ideas.”
“I only have unwise ideas,” I assure him.
