Chapter 5

I took my phone off the charger and turned on the laptop. I looked up the Tate Modern and rang the number on the screen. When it was answered, I told them my name and that I had found some interesting drawings in the attic of the house I was living in and asked to speak to someone about authenticating them. When the girl asked me who the artist was, I told her that they were abstracts and some of a really beautiful woman, and that they all had PP in the corner. I added that there were notes in Spanish which I couldn’t read.

She asked me to wait so we sat until a man came on the line, asking the same question. I gave him the same answer and he asked me where I was, and if I could bring them in so that he could look at them. When I asked when, he just said “Today, if you can.”

He gave me his name and how to find him. Before we left, I looked him up to verify that he was, indeed, an expert on Picasso. We tidied up, took the washing out of the machine, and hung it out on the line. Then I locked up and sat in the passenger seat of Maisie’s Fiat, as we went into London.

At the Tate, she parked, and we carried the tubes as we went in the door that he had told us, finding the right floor, and knocking on his door. He was a pleasant looking man, in his fifties, and welcomed us in. All he wanted to know was how I had found the items. I told him that I was clearing a house and the person leaving told me that whatever I found was mine. I also told him that I was redecorating the house for the estate agent. He wanted the phone number of my boss, rang him, and had the statement about my ownership verified.

Then, he led us down into a climate-controlled basement where we put the three tubes onto a very large table. He put protective gloves on and opened a tube, shaking the contents out on the table. I could see his hands shaking as he spread each drawing, holding them down on each corner with a glass weight. The Spanish paperwork were the last items. He picked one up, and looked at the reverse, which also had writing on it.

He said nothing as he pulled out a phone and called a friend, telling him to come down to this room as there were some items that might interest him. While we waited, he took the second tube to another big table and repeated the process, doing the same with the third, which made him stop halfway through spreading them out and going to a water cooler for a drink. As he finished weighing them down, he looked at me.

“Have you any idea what you have brought me?”

“If they’re authentic, I’d say that they are sketches for bigger works. That last one looks like a study for parts of Guernica.”

“Did you study Picasso?”

“I have done since I saw a TV show when I was six. Among the things I found were also thirty Madoura plates, but I need to find out which are originals, and which are genuine Picasso firings.”

“You are one very lucky young man.”

“It has been said, only the other day.”

Just then, another two people came into the room, and we were introduced.

“This couple have brought us some interesting pictures. I have verified the ownership and have just laid them out. Have a look and tell me what you think.”

The three of us stood, silent, as the other two looked at the pictures. One then went to the paperwork and read both sides. Then he looked at us.

“How much do we have in the acquisitions account, Doc?”

“Last time I looked, about two and a half.”

“Looks like we just spent it. These are all sketches for other works, most that I can name. These pictures of Jacqueline Roque are glorious, such care and attention, even love shines from her eyes. The Guernica sketches have never been seen before. This collection is worthy of its own gallery. What is amazing is these notes to Geraldine Ramie, giving them to her. The signature is authentic, and they’re written on the back of his poems. This, alone, is enough to make sure that we have them.”

He turned to us.

“Have you had them valued?”

“No. You’re the first to be seeing them. We wanted to make sure they were right before taking them to an auction house. Look, this is a windfall for us. I want them to be viewed by the public and scholars like yourselves. We can come to an arrangement.”

“If we can hold on to these, we’ll give you an itemised receipt. We need to check the paper and the paint for authenticity, but that won’t be a problem, that’s something I’m certain of, given how good these are. We’ll bring in someone from the best auction house to put a pre-sale estimate on each item. If it’s grossly over our budget, we will have to bid for individual items as they go under the hammer. I hope that we will have enough to buy them as a complete collection. The poems, while just one page of the opus, are rare in themselves.”

“How long do you need?”

“Give us a week, leave your details with Doc. He will be your link with us. Do you want publicity?”

“No, we want to remain anonymous in all this. We just want to buy the house and raise a family.”

Maisie squeezed my arm when I said that. They called a secretary in with a notepad, and we were sat on stools while they went through each item, giving measurements and a description of the drawing, along with the likely work that they were for, even estimating the date as before the known date of the finished picture. These guys really knew their stuff. Each item was given a number and a small piece of paper with that number was put under one weight.

When the girl went off to print up the receipt, we went back up to the office, where we were given tea and some cake, with Doc asking if I knew anything about Geraldine Ramie. I said that she had been living at the house until her death and told him where to find her grave. I had brought the birth, death, and marriage certificates with me and showed them to him. He went over to a scanner and scanned them to his computer, giving them back. I said that they had also been where I found the tubes. He then took us into the gallery and to the section devoted to Picasso, where we saw a couple that were obviously finished works from our drawings.

He got a beep on his pager, looked at the screen and took us back to the office where there was a pile of paperwork. It turned out to be three copies of the receipt, which the three of us signed and dated after writing our names on the correct line. We were given one each, and I gave him my address and phone number. Maisie gave him her address and number, and he gave each of us a card,

When we were back in the car, Geraldine spoke from the back seat.

“That went well. Those three are the top of their profession. What will happen now is that they will prove the drawings without a shadow of doubt, get them valued, and then ask you if you’ll accept payment over a number of years. They will have to have an appeal to their donor base. They won’t leave you hanging. I think the two of you will be able to buy the house by the time you’ve finished it, Marcie.”

“I’ve been thinking, Geraldine. If we have enough money, we can get a camper van and drive to your hometown. That way, you may be able to detect her spirit. If you say that she may be earthbound because she committed suicide, the two of you might be able to work together to pass to whatever other side there is.”

“I’ve told you before that you are a good man, Marcello. The two of you are going to have wonderful children if you bring them up with love. I’ll think about what you’ve said. It would be nice the see the old home.”

We stopped in Windsor along the way, having a good dinner in a good restaurant that catered for the more well-off tourist. With the prospect of money coming in, and my five thousand already in the bank, I had decided that tonight was not one for pizza. We spoke, quietly about our day. Maisie was amazed at being classed as a co-owner of the collection. I told her that it was deserved.

Back at the house, I kissed her goodnight and told her that I would see her tomorrow evening when I came in for my meal. She laughed.

“Make the most of it. I’ll be giving my notice in and coming to help you decorate our home. You have two weeks to put the lounge in order, so I can watch daytime TV while you work on the rest, then you can start painting your own masterpieces.”

She reversed out into the road, giving me a wave as she left. I went into the house, carrying in the paint and the stepladder that I found on the porch. I took a long while getting to sleep, thinking about how my life had been turned over like a piece of soil, exposing new roots to the sunlight. Things were going to be different when the Tate finished their deliberations. Things were different with my relationships already. I didn’t have to propose to Maisie, we both knew that we had found soulmates.

I thought about the money. It would be something that would give me a base to build on. I knew that I could paint in this house, even though I hadn’t started. It was just a core belief. Tomorrow, I would have to start on the lounge, taking out the furniture. It was the main room of the house with wallpaper. It would take a lot of stripping. It was with that thought that I finally drifted off to sleep.

When I woke, the sun was shining, and my phone told me that it was nearly nine. When I was showered and dressed, I went down to get my breakfast. Geraldine was sitting at the table.

“I hope you had a good sleep, Marcie. You did need it after that exciting day. Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

“I need to start on the lounge. The walls will take a few days to prepare, and I’ll need help to clear all the furniture. To do it properly will need a clear room.”

“I love it when you’re practical. The Tate will do what they need to, but you still have the agreement with the agent to fulfil. Why don’t you put most of that old stuff in the bin or get a charity to pick it up. That way, you and Maisie can buy new. I’m sure she won’t want to sleep in that old double bed.”

“You’re right. I’ll ring the boss and get a loan of one of the guys. We can put everything we don’t need in the front garden with drop sheets over it. Anything else can go in the cellar now we’ve cleared it. I think I saw other old furniture down there.”

I rang the boss and told him about shifting furniture. He told me that he dealt with a charity where any major furnishings that he had taken out of houses went. He said that he would send a truck with a couple of the guys to help me clear the house. I asked Geraldine if she minded it if I dumped her bed. She laughed and told me that she doesn’t need it for sleeping.

So, I went upstairs and stripped her bed and the double in the main bedroom. I made note of what other furnishings were going to go. Maisie and I would have to go shopping next Monday, to make sure we had everything before she came to live here. I felt half afraid, and half excited by the prospect.

When the truck turned up, the boss had followed in his car. Between us, we moved my recliner to the conservatory, in the space where the tattered wicker chairs and tables had been. The old lounge suite and buffet had joined the wickerwork in the truck. The TV went down into the cellar, along with any small items I wanted to keep. While the double bed was being dismantled and taken away, I took all of the clothes and contents of the drawers and dumped them in the nursery, allowing the other bedroom to be cleared as well. We emptied both rooms and I gave the guys the two hundred that I had been given on Friday.

I now had three empty rooms to work with, only one of which had been decorated. I rang a carpet shop in Reading and asked them if they would come around and give me a quote. Then, I started work on stripping the lounge walls. By the end of the day, I had filled the bin with old wallpaper, so rang the agent to organise a pickup and replacement bin.

When I walked into the Duke that evening, Maisie was all smiles.

“Guess what? I told the publican that I was giving my two week notice and he told me that I could finish up this Friday if I wanted. He had been holding off telling me that his daughter had finished school, and he wants to give her a job. I don’t know how well she’ll do, though, too interested in boys and social media from what I’ve seen.”

“That’s good. I had the two bedrooms that I’m not using cleared today, along with the lounge. I’ve got a carpet guy coming around tomorrow to give me a quote. He can give me pricing on different materials, and we can go and choose the colours when you’re free. We can also choose bedroom suites for the two bigger rooms. I’ve put all the things from the middle room in the nursery.”

I had the mixed grill to build up my strength and we had a talk about the future as I walked her home. Wednesday morning, I worked on my ideas for the shops, assuming that one would be an Asian food outlet, and the other two would be fish and chips and a kebab shop. I drew the three different shop fronts and sketched ideas for the interiors.

The carpet man came and measured up all three bedrooms, the nursery, and the lounge. I told him to work up quotes based on good carpets, and to offer his ideas on patterns. I told him what colours the other rooms would be. Then I got the stepladder and cleaned the ceiling of the lounge before I stopped for a lunch. After I had tidied up, I finished painting the clear coat on the last of the paintings. Then I was back in the lounge, rubbing down.

Thursday was all about the lounge. I finished stripping and rubbing, then went in with the vacuum to make sure it was clear. I didn’t bother about drop sheets as I knew that the carpet was coming up, so just got up the stepladder and painted the ceiling. Even with the first coat, the room looked brighter. Friday morning, I did the second coat and then had lunch before showering and changing to see the commercial agents.

They looked at my designs and told me that they would be in touch when they had tenants interested in case the mix wasn’t what I had suggested. I signed an agreement to provide my services as and when required. There was a space for me to add my business name. I told them that it wasn’t registered yet and wrote ‘Maisie and Marcie Designs’. When I got back home, I went online to the corporations site and registered the name, paying the fee by credit card. I would be sent a notice when it had been approved, but we would need to sign papers.

That evening, the publican allowed Maisie to leave early, as his daughter was already behind the bar. He gave her an envelope with her wages, and a hug as we left. He told me to look after her. Instead of walking her home, I took her to the house and showed her the empty rooms, discussed the likely colours and the type of carpet she thought would work. She would go to the big shopping park on Saturday and look around for bedroom suites and likely lounge furnishings. I took her home and we kissed for a while.

On Saturday, I got really into the lounge, completing the first coats. It was split colours, with the side and doorway walls one colour with the fireplace wall another. I did the cornices in a gold, along with the picture rails that a lot of houses of this era had. The door was taken off and the surround painted white.

Because I had done well, I went upstairs to Geraldines room and started stripping the old wallpaper. I managed to get it into the bin, with difficulty. I took all the canvases up to the nursery, and leaned them against the wall, before tidying up the clothing. I had put all of Geraldines’ top drawer into one of the crates and took that down to the kitchen for an inspection.

The jewellery box was interesting, as it contained more rings, a lot of earrings and several necklaces. A few looked like diamonds, others were emeralds. There was one brooch, with a pottery design on it that was surely another Picasso piece. I checked everything and put it all back, then moved on to the other items. There was some paperwork from the original purchase of the house, in her name alone, prior to the marriage.

There was a small bible, and folded into it was a birth certificate in the name of Jacqueline Hubert, her daughter. There was also a death certificate, some six weeks later. So, the nursery had been a nursery before it had become a repository of unwanted items. Seeing that the stepladder had been in there, it may have become that while she was still living. I hadn’t picked up on the pinkish walls before.

I had put everything away and was thinking about my own paintings when Maisie came into the drive. I went out to greet her.

“Hello, darling. There’s some boxes in the back. Be a dear and take them into the kitchen.”

We had a kiss as she swept past me, leaving me to move what she had bought. When I had put everything on the floor, she came back from the toilet.

“Thank you for that. Let’s find homes for everything.”

“What have you bought?”

“It’s called kitchenalia, darling. We now have a proper set of crockery, a set of cutlery, some pots, pans and kitchen knives, spoons, and peelers. When I move in, I’ll be loading up the pantry with good things, as well as getting proper food for the fridge. When I’m cooking for us, there’ll be no more nuking easy meals. Thank goodness you only drink socially, so we don’t have to worry about beer in it.”

We unpacked and put it in its new homes. She had catalogues from the furniture stores with the pieces she liked marked. She had chosen modern but stylish, and I approved. I showed her the lounge, so far, and what she had picked would go there nicely. Of course, all this would have to wait until we had received some money and owned the house.

“It’s all good, Maisie, my love. I haven’t had a peep out of Geraldine all day.”

“That’s because I’ve been with Maisie since she left, last night. You have been busy, I see. When are you going to tell her?”

“About what?”

“About the company. Don’t you think she has a right to know?”

“Yes, you’re right, as usual. Maisie, when I was with the commercial people yesterday, I had a space to put for our company name. I wrote ‘Maisie and Marcie Design’ on that line and made a registration application for it online. We’ll have to go and sign the documents when it’s approved.”

Maisie gave me a huge hug and a long kiss.

“You wonderful man. So, we’ll be running our own business, then?”

“That’s right. I’ll do the basic designs and you can supply the detail input. Colours, materials, accessories. We will be partners in more than one way.”

“I love it! It gives us a reason to get up in the morning, an income stream that we can pay ourselves a wage from, and a way to get tax breaks. You’ll need to talk to an accountant before we go too far.”

“I’ll speak to Dad, see who he uses.”

“Before that, though, we need to go to the supermarket and buy some food. I’ll cook us our dinner, tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll do a roast lunch, if the wall oven works. That can be cooked when we get back from church.”

“Church?”

“If we’re going to get married, it will be in a church with our families and friends. I’ve got contacts with St. Marys, so we will meet at the church door at eight for the eight-thirty service. That way, we can become friendly with the congregation. Who knows, you might enjoy it!”

We locked the house and got in her car. We shopped for meals for the next few days, holding off on stocking up until I had finished the pantry. The artist supplies wasn’t far away, so I went in and bought a dozen canvases in fifteen by twenty, a dozen in twenty-four by thirty-six, and the same in twenty by forty. I asked the man about nine by fives, and he had a pack of twenty boards, all pre-strung, that I could play with. These all went into the back of her car. Back home, we unloaded the food first, and Maisie started getting our dinner ready. I unloaded the canvases and the boards, taking them to the conservatory.

We had a wonderful dinner, and Maisie went home, leaving me with the washing up. I didn’t mind, as she had proved to be a very good cook. We had plenty in the fridge. I hadn’t had a Sunday roast since I had left home. I was drying and wondered if we could invite my parents over for a meal, some day. That was a thought that would never have occurred to me a few weeks before. I went to sleep, wondering what the Tate would come back with next week.

I had set my alarm for early Sunday morning, and was up and dressed, breakfasted and out of the house about half past seven. Geraldine was in the sidecar as I went towards the church. I parked, secured my helmet, and put my riding jacket in a bundle at the foot of the sidecar. Outside the church gate there was a flower seller. I bought two bunches of flowers and walked towards the church door. Maisie was there and came over to me.

“Good morning, darling. Good morning, Geraldine. Why two bunches of flowers?”

“I thought we could put one on Geraldines’ grave, and the other is for her daughter. She’s buried here, isn’t she, Geraldine?”

Marianne Gregory © 2024