Corduroy Mansions

97. The Interview

James had said that he would drop in on Corduroy Mansions round about six that evening. He had also said that he might phone and let Caroline know how the interview and the lunch had gone, if he had time. There had been no call, and so she knew nothing about what had happened until she saw the expression on his face. That revealed everything.

‘You got it?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Yes. I did.’

He was standing in the doorway; she was in the hall. Now she stepped forward and threw her arms around him. ‘Oh, James! Congratulations! You clever, clever boy!’

She kissed him on his cheek; she had intended to kiss him on the lips, but he moved and presented his cheek instead. He wriggled free of her embrace, not indecently soon but rather quickly nonetheless.

‘I’ve brought a bottle of champagne,’ he said. ‘I bought it from one of those places that sells them chilled so that they’re ready for an immediate celebration.’

She took the bottle from him and went into the kitchen to fetch two glasses. He followed her through, full of news about the interview.

‘I was really nervous at the beginning,’ he said. ‘There was this guy before me and he came out looking very depressed - defeated, really. I said to him, “See you at lunch.” And he said that he had not been invited. I felt terrible about that.’

‘Well, you knew that you had a better chance, then.’

James raised an eyebrow. ‘Except for the fact that he had a Ph.D. I had spoken to him before he went in and he told me - a Ph.D. from McGill on Tintoretto. A Ph.D., Caroline, for a small job in a gallery. That’s how tough things are.’

Caroline agreed; things were not easy. ‘Polish Ph.D.s drive trucks. Romanian neurosurgeons wait at tables here in London.’

‘So there’s not much hope for somebody who hasn’t even got his Master’s yet,’ said James. ‘At least that’s what I thought.’

‘Were they nice to you?’

‘Not to begin with. They looked me up and down and asked me to take a seat. Then somebody asked a question straight out of the blue - no preliminaries, nothing. He said, “You’ve heard of Marco Marziale, of course.”’

‘Who?’

‘That’s what most people would think,’ said James. ‘But it just so happened that I had read about him yesterday. I couldn’t believe my luck. There he was, a really obscure painter who has something like eleven or twelve surviving paintings to his name, and I knew about him because I had seen one in a catalogue - one coming up at Christie’s in New York. And I had read that some people considered the figures in his paintings to be a bit wooden, and so I said, “A bit wooden. That Adoration that came to light recently had some beautiful passages, though. Really interesting.”’

Caroline laughed. ‘Served them right.’

‘Yes. The person who had asked me looked really deflated. I was tempted to say to him, “You’ve looked at that one, I take it.” But I didn’t. Which was just as well because I think that would have sunk me. They were looking for something, you see - they were looking for coolness under fire.’

‘And they got it.’

James looked away modestly. ‘Maybe. And the rest of the interview went really well. The person who’d asked about Marziale tried it again, of course, with a real underarm ball about Honthorst’s portrait of Charles I in the National Portrait Gallery. But again, it just so happened that I knew that one and was able to talk about it. After that, he gave up.’

While James was talking, Caroline had eased out the cork of the champagne and was now filling the glasses. She handed one to James and raised her own glass. ‘To clever you. Well done.’

‘And then there was the lunch,’ James continued. ‘They were relaxed by that stage, and so we talked about all sorts of things. It turned out that one of the directors knew my uncle. In fact he had been the best man at my uncle’s wedding. So we talked about him, and his wife, and so on. All very chatty. Until one of them looked at his watch and realised that it was already three o’clock. So they called for the bill and the chairman said, “The job’s yours, by the way.”’

Caroline did not want to cap James’s story immediately, so she waited for a while before she brought up her own news.

‘I was offered a job today as well,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t been expecting it.’

James looked at her in astonishment. ‘You never said anything about an interview.’

Had it been an interview? She did not think so. ‘Actually, it wasn’t an interview - it was a lunch. Lunch with Tim Something, the photographer.’

James looked confused. ‘What’s he got to do with a job?’

‘He offered me one,’ said Caroline. ‘He’s expanding his photography business and he wants me to join him.’

She could tell at once that James was concerned. ‘You? A photographer? ’ But it was not her going to work for a photographer that worried him, she felt - it was the fact that the photographer was Tim Something. James was jealous.

She realised very suddenly that she had to say something; she could pretend no longer. ‘James, listen, I think we should be honest with ourselves. I like you an awful lot - you know that - but I really don’t think it’s going to work between us. We can still go to Paris. But it’s not going to work, is it?’

For a moment he said nothing, but stood quite still, holding his champagne glass in his right hand. The silence was such that she could hear the tiny bubbles of the wine bursting - an almost inaudible crackling sound. Then he looked at her, and his look was full of tenderness. ‘No, you’re right. It won’t. And I’ve been meaning to tell you something. I’ve met somebody else. Somebody . . . well, somebody who makes more sense for me - for the way I am.’

She felt immediate relief, mixed with pleasure for him. She wanted James to be happy.

‘What’s his name?’ she asked.

It was a misjudged question. ‘It’s a she, actually. Her name is Annette.’

Caroline looked into her glass. She could have forgiven him had it been Adam or Andrew, but not Annette. And why, she thought, should another woman get him? If any woman was going to get him, then it would be her. She was clear about that.

She would get him back. She was not going to take this lying down.