‘Great!’ He smiled back, showing perfectly aligned teeth. ‘I’m so glad that you found something to your liking. If you give me just a minute, I’ll be right with you. I’m just going into a room to mark a piece as sold and I’ll be right back.’ He indicated down the corridor. ‘If you wait for me at the entrance to the exhibition, I’ll meet you there and we can finalize everything.’
‘Will do.’
But as the man walked away from Mary, she didn’t move, instead, she followed him with her eyes. He walked past a room to his left before turning right and entering the same room that Mary had just walked out from.
‘Oh no, no, no.’ She rushed after him. As she got to the door, she saw the gallery owner pull a red-dot sticker from a booklet that he had brought with him and place it on the wall, right next toReflection.
‘Oh no.’ She quickly caught up with him. ‘You’ve got to be kidding. This is the one I wanted. The one that I was just rushing to you to go purchase.’
‘Oh really?’ The man sounded truly sorry as he looked back at the painting for a couple of seconds. ‘It’s a magnificent piece. You’ve got great taste.’ His lips stretched into a thin line as his head angled slightly left. ‘And I’m so sorry that you’ve missed it, but there are loads of other amazing pieces that are still available… some in this very room. Isn’t there anything else that you’ve seen that you liked?’
Mary shook her head. ‘Not as much as this one, really.’ She hadn’t had time to look at any other piece outside that room, but she made it sound like she had. ‘Are you sure this one’s gone?’ She gave the gallery owner her best ‘puppy eye’ look.
For the sake of politeness, the man checked the screen on the tablet that he had with him. ‘Yeah, this is the one.’ He nodded. ‘Reflection… room five… Betsy Fletcher.’ He then read out the same reference number that Mary had noted down moments earlier. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Can’t we maybe negotiate?’ Mary tried. ‘I can offer over the asking price. Would that work?’
The smile the man gave Mary was a courteous one. ‘Unfortunately, that’s not how it works in these sorts of exhibitions. Tonight, it’s not an auction. Each piece has a set price tag attached to it, and that’s the price, not the highest bid. Once the piece has been purchased, it’s gone. We keep them on the walls so that everyone can still appreciate them, but it’s not available for purchase anymore.’
Mary pressed her lips together, her puppy eyes still in place.
‘If you want,’ the gallery owner said, being sympathetic to Mary’s frustration, ‘I can introduce you to the artist, Betsy Fletcher. She might have something similar in her studio, or you can commission something from her. I’m sure that she’ll be ever so happy to oblige.’
‘I know Betsy,’ Mary replied. ‘She was the one who invited me over tonight.’
‘Oh, that’s great,’ the gallery owner sounded truly pleased. ‘Have you spoken to her about this piece?’
‘Not yet.’ A subtle but sad shake of the head.
‘You should.’ He indicated the room. ‘But she still has a few pieces available. Do have a look.’ He quickly consulted his watch. ‘Well, if you’d excuse me, I need to get back.’
‘How about if you introduce me to the person who bought the painting?’ Mary tried playing one last card. ‘Maybe I can negotiate directly with the buyer.’
The man paused and turned to face Mary. ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.’
‘Mary.’
‘I’m Harvey Steiner. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ He tucked his lips in for a split second. ‘I can see that you really want that piece.’
Mary nodded once. ‘I do.’
‘I can also see that you’re not very familiar with how exhibitions or art galleries work.’ His tone was explanatory without sounding condescending. ‘Unfortunately, no gallery owner, auctioneer, art broker, salesperson… whoever… reveals the names of their buyers. If we did, we wouldn’t have a business. Believe me. Art is a very private matter to collectors.’ He checked the time again. ‘There’s still around ten minutes before we close and there are so many amazing art pieces still available. Just look around, maybe you can find something else you like, or if you come visit us during regular hours, I’ll gladly show you our vast portfolio of artists. You might find something you like then, but in regards to the “Reflection” piece, unfortunately it’s gone.’
Mary could see that Steiner was being as diplomatic as he could.
As he walked away, Mary returned to the room to check Betsy’s remaining pieces. Out of the five that were being displayed that evening, only two were still available.
Mary paused in front of the one that she liked the most out of those two – an 18 by 12 inches, unframed, oil-on-canvas portrait of a brunette woman. The woman had her hands up, almost to her face, but not quite. They were cupped together just by her chin, as if she was about to drink water from an open tap… but there was no water. That wasn’t the reason why her hands were cupped together beneath her chin. They were there to try to collect the pieces of her own face that were dropping off like broken shards of glass. The painting was titledFragmented.
‘It seems like you really like this room.’
The man’s voice came from Mary’s left, catching her a little off guard. The surprise made her blink once, before turning to face the same man who, a few minutes earlier, had tried and failed tosee any veils of darkness together with her. Mary blinked again before her lips parted, as if she was about to say something, but no words came out. All she did was study his face – the contour of his chin, the outline of his lips, the shape of his eyes… all of it.
It took only a couple of seconds for the silent ‘facing each other’ situation to become a little awkward.
‘Did you…’ his right index finger pointed to the piece that they were both looking at earlier. ‘Manage to finally see any veils of darkness over there?’ The question had clearly been asked because due to Mary’s hesitation, the man thought that she probably couldn’t remember who he was.
Mary finally smiled as she shook her head. ‘No, I gave up.’ And that was it – no follow up – she simply went quiet again, and just like that, they were right back to the awkward ‘facing each other’ situation.
