of yours truly. I’ve been thinking about you and your brain tumour guy. Please be careful. Some people are very good at putting on a show when they are completely different underneath – and I should know. I don’t want you to get hurt.
I’ve had a rubbish day. I knew something was up as soon as I got in the car with Oscar this morning. My bad situation with the art critic has got worse. Walkers have cancelled. They’re a large, well-established gallery in London who had previously stocked my bigger pieces and sold them to investors. And worse still, Oscar dropped the bombshell that in his words ‘Something interesting has come up …’, which I’m guessing is a new client, and he’s flying home tomorrow and leaving me to finish the tour without him. I thought I was going to pass out in the car when he said it.
I don’t think I can do it.
C x
Regan fired off a quick reply:
Hi Cleo, You’re not a quitter. You can do this. You’re stronger than you know. If nothing else, do it for me. See Japan, treat it as a holiday – it’s free!
In the nicest possible way – please don’t come home!
Love you
R
X
P.S. Charlie is the real deal <3
Regan opened the next email and clicked on the video link. This was something different. Cleo’s face popped up and it felt odd that it wasn’t FaceTime and she couldn’t interact with her.
‘Regan. Why aren’t you picking up my messages or my calls?’ She looked distraught. She tugged at her hair with her free hand.
‘I dropped my phone down the loo,’ Regan whispered at the screen. She looked up to see an elderly man on the opposite computer eyeing her suspiciously. She smiled and slunk down behind the monitor. She wished it was FaceTime and Cleo could hear her.
Onscreen, a harassed Cleo continued: ‘I’ve spent almost two hours trapped in the car with a grumpy Oscar and my escalating anxiety. The driver kept looking at us through the rear-view mirror because I spent most of the journey begging Oscar to stay in Japan, but he refused to be swayed. I know Oscar has other clients and I understand he needs to fill the gap my art, and associated commissioned income, leaves, but dumping me in a foreign country was a kneejerk reaction which is not acceptable. I’m not you. I don’t thrive when I’m chucked in the deep end. I sink. I doubt I’ll be able to leave the hotel room let alone finish the tour.’
Regan could tell Cleo’s anxiety was escalating by the speed of her speech and her strained expression. She wanted to reach into the screen and tell her it was going to be okay.
‘Then we pulled up at this fancy place.’ She turned the camera and gave a fleeting panorama of a building, with a New England, whitewashed look to it – not what she had been expecting from Japan at all. ‘This delightful Japanese gentleman met us, Mr Yomoda, whose English and demeanour put me in mind of Yoda, but thankfully he was a healthier colour. Oscar went into full-on schmooze mode and took control of the conversation. And it turns out this is a university.’ Cleo panned the camera round to a large window where a number of young faces were staring out. A couple of them waved. ‘A university!’ repeated Cleo, turning the camera back to herself. ‘It’s a total mess. Oscar is furious. He’s ranting at poor Mr Yomoda right now.’ Cleo pushed her hair off her face. ‘What do I do, Regan?’
Regan shook her head and then checked the sound was as low as it would go. She didn’t want to get chucked out of the library.
‘Apparently the students have been following my work. Mr Yomoda said my art is an inspiration.’ Cleo bit her lip and looked away from the camera, back at the faces at the window. ‘I don’t even know what a university visit entails, but I’d quite like to meet the art students. Being an art student is at least something I can relate to—’
‘Right. We’re leaving. It’s a total shambles,’ said Oscar, marching over. Cleo fumbled the phone but it kept filming. Oscar turned to a small Japanese gentleman who Regan took to be Mr Yomoda. This was better than a soap opera. ‘So sorry to have wasted your time,’ said Oscar. He began ushering Cleo back to the car, but she stood firm.
‘No, Oscar. We can’t just