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    Sally

    Page 30
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      ‘A gallery?’

      ‘That makes it sound so grand. But yes – in as much as there was art on the walls and people came in to see it.’

      ‘And to buy?’

      ‘Not often enough.’

      ‘It went bust,’ said Geoff.

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘That’s what we – what I was told.’

      ‘I had to close it, yes. I chose to change career.’

      ‘And that’s why you’re here?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You couldn’t sell art but you think you might be able to sell houses?’ He hadn’t meant it to sound rude. He just couldn’t fathom how someone who wanted a career in art could metamorphose into someone wanting to work as an estate agent. ‘There’s an art to selling houses,’ he said, helpfully, ‘or so we like to lead our clients to believe.’

      ‘In these crap times – financially speaking – I suppose people don’t want to spend money on art. As much as I like to believe that people need art in their lives, there’s no point splashing out on a painting if you haven’t four walls around you and a roof over your head.’

      He looked a little nonplussed and Stella cringed at what she’d said – it sounded like a dictum she might churn out in a job interview.

      ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘that was almost two years ago. I love art – but I also really like houses. And I know you probably all think it’s family favouritism – but I did two years at the St Albans branch of Tremberton & Co. It’s just I moved from Watford to Hertford last autumn.’

      Geoff looked at her quizzically, as if her move from one side of Hertfordshire to the other and the revelation that the gallery hadn’t gone bust yesterday and nepotism played little part in her change of career, moved her up in his estimation.

      ‘I have a John Piper etching,’ he told her with an almost-smile.

      They had just pulled up outside the Victorian conversion, where the one-bedder was on the second floor.

      ‘A Piper?’

      But Geoff pressed the doorbell before Stella could coax a reply.

      Forty minutes later, Geoff really couldn’t fault her – they had a new vendor on their books, her valuation had been spot on. The client had liked her and Geoff had liked Stella’s manner – chatty, enthusiastic, supportive. He sensed if she took a potential purchaser around, they’d be lining up a second viewing just as soon as they’d seen the place. He had to concede that she’d probably sell a place like this faster than he could.‘Nicely done,’ he said when they headed back to the car.

      Copyright

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.

      Harper

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

      77–85 Fulham Palace Road,

      Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

      www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain by

      William Heinemann 1996

      Copyright © Freya North 1996

      Afterword © Freya North 2012

      Freya North asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

      A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

      Source ISBN: 9780007462155

      Ebook Edition © June 2012 ISBN: 9780007462162

      Version 1

      FIRST EDITION

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

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