Page 59 of Eternal Obsession

“Hello, St. Clare’s Art Gallery,” the female voice said.

“Good evening. I have a painting I wish to sell. Do you buy paintings?”

“Yes, sir, we do. Is it by a local artist?”

“Yes, but he’s dead now.”

“Well, sir, then your painting may be quite valuable.”

“Perfect. May I bring it in for you to view?”

“Would I know the artist, sir?”

“Yes, perhaps. Joseph Turner.”

“The Joseph Turner?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Oh, bugger off!”

I heard the click of the phone. She’d hung up.

“Well that seemed to go well.” Alex had read my puzzled expression. “Turns out I am not the only person with a dislike of Turner.”

“I think I know of the perfect place to sell the painting,” I said. “Fancy a trip to London?”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

JADEON

We were ready to travel to the city.

Alex’s clothes were not exactly going to fit in but I reassured him that we would purchase a suit first thing.

“If anyone asks,” I said, “you’re going to a costume party.”

I wore my usual attire, a stylish Savile Row suit.

“Going to a funeral?” Alex jested.

I threw him a wry smile. Crazy, I know, but I still cared about my appearance.

We made our way from the castle walls into the center of Penzance, flying through the air and landing in a dark alley just behind a spiritualist church. I carried the painting wrapped in an old sheet to protect it. We headed down through the old, cobbled street toward my parked car. Alex stared in astonishment at the people who passed us by, amazed at the fashions that people wore, particularly the women’s clothing.

Where they had once worn long full skirts, they were now dressed in short revealing garments. The colors seemed even more vibrant lit up by the street lighting. The majority of men wore loose-fitting clothing. The younger the youth, the looser the article worn.

To Alex, the noise of the outside world was deafening. Whereas there had once been horse-drawn carriages racing along the busy dirt roads, there were now huge speeding metal vehicles. Where marketplaces had once stood there were now glass-fronted stores selling their wares in the shiniest of packages.

Alex jumped backward startled by two men who ran past us, their outfits identical. He pushed me out of the way, fearing for my safety. I smiled at Alex’s response to the two joggers who passed by and attempted to explain, exploding into laughter at his expression. I wondered how long it would take before he felt comfortable.

Alex’s gaze fell upon the silver Jaguar and he hopped in. With a turn of the ignition the engine started and we headed out.

As we drove along, Alex often turned in his seat, catching glimpses at this thing or that. Wide open fields had been replaced by houses and other buildings, the vast Cornish landscape transformed into a flurry of human activity.

“Can I drive your car?” Alex asked.

I pulled the car over and Alex slid into the driver’s seat. After the first few seconds of jerking forward, Alex quickly got the hang of the vehicle. We sped off. Alex drove the Jag hard.