Picture You Dead

36

Sunday, 20 October

‘Here we go!’ said Harry Kipling, as he sat down beside Freya on the sofa in front of the television. Their best friends, Jim and Katie Morgan, were on the other sofa, turned round so they could watch, too. Even Tom had pulled up a chair and removed his headphones to watch. All of them held their topped-up glasses of Prosecco. They’d been alerted, only on Friday, by an assistant at the BBC that their episode of Antiques Roadshow was being broadcast much sooner than planned, due to a scheduling issue.

Jim, balding and two stones overweight, most of which he carried in his beer gut, on which he rested the base of his glass, had a substantial glazing business. His slightly built wife, Katie, was a care-home worker for children with learning difficulties. ‘Get that art expert’s whistle, Harry!’ he shouted out excitedly. ‘Was that your old man’s demob suit from the army?’

Katie put a finger to her lips and shushed him, her eyes going from the painting on the screen in front of her, to the one hanging on the lounge room wall to her right.

As Oliver Desouta pointed at the painting on the easel and began talking, Jim said, nodding at the picture on the living room wall, ‘Hope you’ve got it well insured, Harry?’

Harry shook his head. ‘Not yet, not until we know for sure if it’s an original.’

‘Then it would cost a fortune to insure,’ Freya said.

‘But millions of people are going to see this tonight, Harry,’ Jim continued. ‘Aren’t you worried about burglars?’

Harry shook his head. ‘I’ve arranged to fit security lights, window locks and perhaps a CCTV camera.’

‘They won’t keep out a determined thief, mate,’ Jim said.

Katie shushed him again. ‘Let’s watch!’

‘I wouldn’t keep it in the house, not after tonight.’

‘Jim, shut it! Let’s watch, OK?’

They all fell silent and watched.