Possessed hearts
Шрифт:
– For now, our gallery is busy with Najada Olivecka's exhibition. Fathers and children. Are you familiar with her work?
– You bet! As far as I know, she's recognised as the most influential photographer in Eastern Europe.
– Her exhibition ends in a fortnight. It'll take about a week to organise yours.
– That's a three-week wait. That's not so bad!
– But I need to show your work to our sponsor. He'll have the final say," Mr. Attick said suddenly.
I grinned. Shit. It's always like this – just when you're excited, your joy is killed with just one sentence.
– Who's your sponsor? – I asked. – The same one who sponsors Najada Olivecka? Then he has excellent taste. By the way, can you tell me where I can meet Najada herself… – And at that moment my smartphone rang loudly in my purse. – Damn, I'm sorry. – I took the smartphone out of my bag. – I'll just be a minute, it's an important call.
– Don't trouble yourself, Miss Mroczek," Mr. Attick smiled benignly.
I smiled back and went out into the corridor.
– Yes, Mum, hi," I said quietly into the phone. – I'm busy right now, is it an emergency?
– Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. It's just that you haven't been calling, and I want to know how my girl is doing.
– Your girl's business couldn't be better. I'm in London and the editor-in-chief of Colour world wants to put on an exhibition of my work! – I said with a note of happiness in my voice.
– Oh, that's great! Congratulations! When? Me and my dad will definitely fly down for the opening!
– That's great. But let's talk later. I'll call you back when I'm free.
– Yes, of course. But that's great news! Congratulations.
– Thank you. I'll call you later.
– Yeah. Kisses.
I smiled. No doubt Mum would be calling all the relatives now.
Back in Mr. Attick's office, I found the latter drafting the contract.
– I've called our sponsor. He'll be here in a couple of hours to look at your work. – Mr. Attick smiled broadly. – 'But between you and me, Miss Mroczek, I'm absolutely certain of a positive decision.
– That would be delightful," I smiled too, still not happy that my work needed some mortal's approval.
– So, if you don't mind, I'll ask you to leave your pictures until this evening, and at six o'clock you can pick them up.
– Well, if those are your sponsor's terms, then of course I will come back for them later.
– I promise in return that all your thirty pictures will be safe and sound. And naturally I would be pleased and pleased to co-operate with you, Miss Mroczek.
We shook hands, and Mr. Attick suddenly smiled confusedly.
– Oh, please forgive my oversight! I should have ordered coffee or tea for you …
– No, I'm not cold, believe me," I hastened to interrupt him.
He was gentlemanly enough to assume that the coldness of my hands was, however trivial, a matter of coldness.
A nice mortal, I'll give you that. Not many of them.
– Goodbye, Mr. Attick, I'll be back at six. – I picked up my bag and woollen cardigan and headed for the door.
– See you tonight, Miss Mroczek.
I had a three-hour wait ahead of me, and I didn't feel like going back to the hotel. I caught a taxi and went to Najada Olivecka's exhibition. After breathing in the aroma of reportage photography, which I would call "social" as this Moldovan photographer's work reflected everyday life and generational conflict, and imagining exactly how I would design my exhibition, I returned to the Colour world office to find out my verdict.
– Your work was to his liking. Congratulations. – Mr. Attick smiled, but I could see that he was clearly hiding something, and it was something that made him mentally uncomfortable.
– Well, I'm glad. So it's time to sign the contract? – I asked. – But there's something troubling about you. Your sponsor must have had some questions about my work.
My bluntness didn't embarrass Bernard. Of course he did – he'd been working at the magazine for twenty-seven years, as editor-in-chief, and had seen a lot.
– No, everything went smoothly. He really liked your work. That's true. But he'll only agree to organise your exhibition on one small, I'd say insignificant condition.
– What condition? – I frowned.
– He wants to buy one of your works on the condition that you never publish it anywhere else. All options, all files.
– Hmm, that's an interesting condition! – I grinned. It flattered me. – Did he like my work that much?
– When he got to this picture, he looked at it for about three minutes. Usually, he looks at each work in ten seconds.
– Which one? – I was getting curious.
– This one. – Mr. Attick held it out to me. – It won't be the subject of the exhibition.
А 4. A girl waiting for a tram. Ten years ago. One of the worst neighbourhoods in Prague. Not my favourite work, I must admit. I photographed this girl by chance because I was fascinated by her long, thick hair, slightly dishevelled by the wind. It was autumn and this girl was wearing a long black coat. Her hands were hidden in her pockets. Expressive brown eyes squinted. Hmm. And this picture so impressed the "great and terrible" sponsor that he was willing to buy all the rights to it?
– If he likes it so much, I can't deny him the joy of owning it," I said in a serious but ironic tone. – So, as you said, the name of your sponsor?
– Mr. Brandon Grayson.
My mouth dropped open, but no sound came out of it. I fell into a stupor.
– I see. – After a long pause, I let it out.
– Is everything all right? – Mr. Attick asked in a slightly concerned tone.
– Yes. It's just… I know him. He's one of my family friends. I didn't know he did exhibitions," I said casually. – How long has it been?