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“I have three hundred and forty.”

Great. Here we go.

An online bid appears.

Three fifty.

The telephone offers three seven five.

A paddle to the left raises at three eighty.

Now.

I lift mine.

“Three hundred and ninety thousand at the back.”

Alice turns in her seat.

The auctioneer takes another telephone bid.

Three nine five.

The man to the left offers four hundred.

I wait.

He looks towards me.

A gold watch. Tight smile. Paddle held high enough for everyone to see.

Nicholas Harrow. I recognise him.

Property developer. New collector. Likes large works, fashionable names and being photographed beneath anything he buys.

I understand appetite. It comes in many forms, but never relents.

Harrow’s appetite is attention.

So, I give it to him.

Four twenty-five.

The telephone bids four fifty.

Harrow raises at four seventy-five.

I answer with five hundred.

A stir moves through the room. Half a million changes the atmosphere.

Alice presses one hand to her mouth.

Bill is sitting straighter.

Christopher is no longer smiling.

Helena Mercer still hasn’t moved. Not even slightly.