Crossing the line - 27. Colloque sentimental

Francis Heyward was going to be back in town for a few days, before travelling again; did the man never stop in one place? He’d be staying at the 122 Club and suggested he and I meet to catch up and talk about the progress of the hang at The Manor which had been taking up both time and mental energy. I was ushered into the same meeting room as before, or one almost identical, and again we sat in the window, drank excellent tea, and held our meeting, going over what had been happening, the problems, the progress. He had a remarkable memory for detail, and it did not impede him in the slightest that we weren’t at The Manor.

“Are you pleased with the results. Forget the problems, is the overall effect what you wanted?”

“Yes, most definitely. I should warn you; it won’t look very much like a museum hang.”

He laughed and asked why.

“Well, for a start, I think few curators would be mad enough to hang so many pictures of naked men. Dan’s first comment was what a lot of willies. And once you get over that, the hang is quite dense in places, and they are all related by instinct rather than art history and theory. So, not like a gallery at all.”

“Good. That’s why I asked you. You surely have wondered?”

I nodded, “We, Dan and I, have chatted about it endlessly.”

“I don’t trust curators. I don’t like people telling me what to do, but I realised I had over-faced myself with rehanging all the main rooms in The Manor. My Father used to have a number of sayings, aphorisms, many were filthy. But they had some sense, and that was how he kept going. And one of his favourites was always know when you are beat, whilst another was, don’t bother sucking eggs, get granny to do it.

“I was looking for someone, and then you popped up. First as Dan’s intriguing other half, then as the writer of rather pointed articles about the art scene, the guy who used life to comment on art. I did a bit of digging and heard about Dan’s little contretemps at the Tramshed, and the way you turned it around. I was impressed. Then you suggested putting the Norman James top dead centre in the Marble Hall. I liked that. And you were someone I felt I could work with.”

“And if the whole thing fails, then you can blame an ignorant amateur!”

He laughed, heartily. “I could, but I won’t. Another of Father’s maxims, it’s always your fault. And don’t worry, the hang will be a wow, judging by the ideas you’ve been sending me. By the way, I’m still looking for that Lucien Freud.”

“I didn’t really…”

But he cut me off, “Why not. If we don’t try. The only one I’ve had a sniff of was a rather ugly thing, and I’d have been buying it because it was a Freud, not because I loved the picture.”

“That’s what comes over, I think, in the images.”

He nodded, “Good.”

Just when I thought we’d cleared up business, he looked at me, “Father had another little maxim, that I rather like. Don’t shit in your own back yard. He kept that one close, used basic sense to keep things separate, like family and friends away from the dodgy stuff. I try and do the same.”

He paused and took a sip of his tea.

“I’m aware that I have a certain reputation, and much of it is true. I take the view that what good is having money if you can’t indulge your whims. I enjoy sex, I like it uninhibited, and I see no reason why I shouldn’t share it with like-minded friends. I understand that this is something that not everyone is comfortable with, but largely I think they can mind their own business.

“With my team it is different. I want them to be comfortable, to do their jobs well. When Dante came to work for me, I admit I was somewhat tempted; far more so than I have been in a long, long time. Don’t get me wrong, he was employed for his strengths, and I have never regretted it. But there were other attractions as well.”

“His arse in a jockstrap.”

He smiled, thinly, “Precisely. But I never got beyond simple temptation. Tim said that I am a twisted slut, and it would freak anyone out to have sex with their boss like that.”

Bravo for Tim, I thought.

“Then I realised who his partner was. I know Amanda somewhat and as I said, I was intrigued. I realised that the two of you, Dante and Vaughan, had an unusual range of attractions. Then darling Suki was indiscreet about Verona”, he smiled, rather warmer this time, “That is one of her weaknesses and her charms, indiscretion in the nicest possible way. I gathered you were entertained in Ercole’s famous playroom. Lucky you. Tony put paid to that for me, you heard the story?”

I nodded.

“And I gather that Ercole has been to stay with you and was charmed by his time in London. So, I have been thinking. I would like to invite you to some events, small intimate affairs where friends have fun. Dinner then we cut loose as they say. Relaxed, nothing one does not wish to do. Not exactly sex with the boss but”, he shrugged, “in the same room?”

“An orgy you mean?”

“A somewhat old-fashioned term, but yes. I enjoy an audience, playing amongst friends you might say. I would never wish to put Dante in a position where he felt there was a conflict between the personal and his job. I would wish to entertain the two of you as friends.”

“At The Manor?”

“Ah, of course not. There, Dante will always seem to be on duty. No. I thought to ask you to smaller events, held elsewhere.”

--oOo—oOo—

“He wants to ask us to an orgy?”

Dan and I were discussing things, much later, over a glass of wine. My meeting with Francis, as I had to learn to call him, had been short and to the point, but with plenty to think about.

“I don’t think he’d call it that, something a bit more refined.”

“But that’s what it is. He gets off on doing it in front of people.”

“And watching people doing it.”

“You think he’s real kinky don’t you, getting off on watching other folk.”

“Probably. If we accepted the invitation, you’d get to see your boss in action. A great story to tell your lads.”

Dan snorted. “Not on your life. Do you think he’s still angling to; you know?”

“No, in all honesty I don’t. I believe him. As I see it, these little events of his.”

“Little?”

“That’s what he says. Well, they are a sort of private equivalent of going to a boots-only night. Some people get their rocks off with the hired help, some with each other, and some get a thrill from having an audience.”

You think he likes the idea of doing it with me watching. That’s not a sort of, look what you’re missing, thing is it?”

“May be, but he understands that he can’t mix business and pleasure.”

“Not and run a tight ship. Because he does, you know. Doesn’t miss a thing.”

“And of course, if you ever leave his employ….”

Dan laughed, “A sort of golden rope, keeps me tied to the place!”

We still hadn’t come up with decision about answering Yeah or Nay, when we did get an invitation, it wasn’t anything like we expected.