Crossing the line - 32. Back to the 122 Club: Going out with a bang?

We had another email from Francis Heyward’s PA, Archie. Would we be free for dinner at the 122 Club; a private dinner with just the four of us.

“Four?” Dan cocked an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged, “Tim, perhaps. We sort of know, officially, that they see each other.”

Dan frowned, “I know, but seeing a guy for sex and having him join you for dinner with two of your employees. That’s a different kettle of fish.”

I smiled, “Perhaps they want to announce their engagement, or marriage!”

He shook his head, “Come on!”

So, again, we presented ourselves at the club, were welcomed by, I think, the same gentleman and shown to the same room next to, but not in, the bar. Only, this time, the room wasn’t empty. Francis Heyward was waiting there with Tim, and Archie. We sat down, or rather four of us did and Archie remained standing. Drinks were ordered; not for Archie, clearly, he was on duty. When we were settled, Archie handed Heyward a small package, a large envelope really.

Heyward held it but didn’t do anything with it, instead he explained, “I’d been intending to give you a little something, as personal thanks for all your help and remarkable advice, but we never found quite the right thing,”

Tim smiled, and interrupted him, “What he means is that he’s too fond of the Pontormo to part with it and couldn’t find anything else close.”

Heyward simply rolled his eyes and continued as if nothing had happened. This was rather a different side to them, more like a couple.

“Then I found this. It’s probably English, early 20th century but unsigned and uncredited. It’s rather lovely, however, and I thought you might have fun ferreting out more information.”

Dan’s eyes sparkled and I could just hear his comment in my head ‘And because it’s unsigned and of uncertain provenance, it comes cheap’. Dan was indeed learning the ways of the art market. I thanked Heyward and took it. It was a small drawing, mounted and unframed. The merest sketch of a nude man, probably an academic study. He was fit but rather beefy, a bushy moustache, smooth body, substantial pubic bush. It was indeed rather lovely. We both examined it and then Archie took it away, we could collect it later. So, that was Archie’s role in the evening over it seemed.

As we drank our G&Ts we talked about the nude in the Marble Hall, my recent purchases, and the progress of the hang. Heyward was pleased with it, could not wait for the final finishing touches, etc, etc. Except, of course, there were always nagging little details he worried were not quite right. Sigh. Still, he was looking forward to revealing all to his guests. As Heyward and I talked shop, I was aware of Tim and Dan chatting quietly together; as soon as the talk moved to hang and pictures, Tim’s eyes had glazed over. And from the bits I overheard, I gathered that Tim and Dan were talking travel plans, it seemed that Francis Heyward and Tim were going away. As soon as the hang was launched, they were having a holiday in the Caribbean. Nice for some.

We moved to one of the private rooms overlooking the garden and were assiduously served our first course. Conversation was more general as we ate, then when the table cleared, Heyward dropped his bombshell.

“I am going to be closing up The Manor for a while. We plan to travel and then Winter in the Bahamas or Barbados. We will be back in the Spring, I hope”, he gave a thin smile. “I find that I need to retrench somewhat. Business has been uncertain, and The Manor is, frankly, a rather expensive toy.”

Tim snorted in laughter, “It’s a ridiculously expensive monstrosity.”

Heyward simply shook his head. And held out his hand, his left hand, there was a ring on his wedding finger. “I had a health scare. Oh, everything is fine now, but we were, for a time, worried. It seemed sensible to make things official. To ease any legal issues if there were problems.”

We exclaimed and congratulated, and I wondered, how bad had the scare been. Heyward had disappeared somewhat at times, but little had been obvious. Ercole had not said anything, had he been warned not to, or did he not know? The main course appeared. The others chatted; I thought about Heyward’s news.

“You are quiet Vaughan. The news worries you?”

“Not in that way. It’s just all the paintings sitting there unloved.”

He nodded, “Unseen. In the Spring we may decide to downsize.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, “Turn The Manor into a corporate HQ.”

“And if so, we will find a new home for the paintings. I am having exploratory talks with a couple of foundations.”

Now that was news to conjure with. Conversation moved on, Heyward not wanting us to dwell on details, perhaps to keeps his cards close to his chest, and when were they not? We talked about the exhibition at the Tramshed, my ideas and more, Greg, the Donna McKee painting and drawing, and the amazing Donald Mitchell drawing. Heyward shook his head, “I am very envious of those, envious indeed.”

Over cheese, he expanded on his plans. There would be a launch for the new hang, a drinks event for friends from the art world, and a separate invitation to critics. At both, I would talk about the pictures and Heyward would say a few words.

And there would be a celebratory party with the usual people. Talking about it to Dan afterwards, he dubbed it ‘The Last Party’ and I sort of thought he was right. When talking about the guests, ‘the usual people’, Heyward might well have been referring to six people not hundreds. There would, of course, be a theme. The male nude. All the guests would be male and be expected to be nude. Bloody hell.

Dan looked surprised, despite his experiences of the last party, “Will your guests go for that?”

Heyward gave a wry smile, “You have seen my friends, they are not shy. Yes, they will and if some refuse then”, he shrugged, “tant pis. My parties have always been about what I wanted.”

“It does sound as if it will be quite something.”

Tim smiled, “A high class orgy, perhaps.”

Heyward gave this a thin smile, “Indeed. That is as maybe but we will want you, Vaughan and Dante to attend. As guests. In all probability, we will use a contract company for the security. I am sure Dante will be able to make a recommendation.”

Dan looked surprised, “What will the dress code be?”

“For the security team? Why the same as everyone else, of course. Nude”

“I see, should be interesting.”

Heyward gave another thin smile and nodded, but Tim’s eyes seemed to be dancing. Was this his idea, or was he amused at the way Dan seemed to politely suggest it would be difficult, for which read expensive, to find a security team prepared to wander round naked with an audience. Going out with a bang? It certainly looked like it.

--oOo—oOo—

“So, let me get this right. He’s bought you a farewell gift of dodgy provenance that he probably picked up for a song. He plans to launch the new hang at The Manor with a drinks party and a press shindig, end with an orgy and then close up the house and bugger off to the Bahamas with his new husband for an indefinite period.”

I pulled a wry face, “Something like that.”

“Bloody Hell. He’s got a nerve.”

Amanda, Bill, Dan, and I were sitting in our garden over a glass of wine. They’d brought Bill’s mate round to assess our attic, measure up and, hopefully, make recommendations about possible solutions and their costs regarding a room up there. The man had left, promising a quotation by the end of the week, however Amanda and Bill had stayed. We’d all share a take-away later.

Bill looked amused, “And it’s supposed to be downsizing.”

“Well, he says The Manor costs a bomb. Of course, if it’s closed there’s no-one to notice what he’s sold.”

Amanda snorted, “Bet he’s got buyers lined up, that Pontormo and a few other tasty morsels would start things moving.”

“And who knows what else?”

“Precisely.”

She shook her head, “What on earth was the point?”

“Window dressing, con trick like Mae suggested?”

Dan looked sceptical, “Or genuinely unexpected business problems.”

“One of my contacts reckons that he’s been far less liquid than he’s claimed for a long time.”

“Contacts”, Amanda grinned at me.

“Old hacks love a good gossip.”

“I’ll bet.”

Bill looked thoughtful, “Pricey business, keeping that barn of a place secure. Insurance’ll be a bomb. Cheaper to strip it, put it all into store.”

“Or sell the lot.”

We all took a big swig of wine. In the scheme of things it was small beer, I had lots of exciting work lined up. But it still rankled.

“And what about you?” Amanda looked intently at Dan.

He shrugged, “He’s using a contract firm for the party.”

“You think he might go that route all Winter?”

“It’s more flexible. Take the hit, make us redundant and rent guys you need.”

“So, what will you do?”

He grinned, “Polish my CV. Vaughan’s been helping, it’s certainly far more than just a list of employers now. And we've been looking at jobs. I'm not desperate, we’ll wait for something decent to come along.”

“And you’ll live here.”

“Yeah, either sublet the flat or get rid of it. We’ve already ordered the shed.”

“Shed?”

“Yep. They start next week. Real pukka job, well insulated, power, the lot. Even get running water if we needed it.”

She smiled, “What are you planning to use it for?”

I stroked Dan’s hand, “We have to work that out. Neither of us have ever lived with a lover before, so…”

“Either Vaughan will use it as a work room, or I’ll have it as my space. The idea is we want space to be ourselves, alone, when needed.”

Bill smiled, “Excellent idea”, and I thought of their rambling house with his workshop and her studio. Ideal.

“Dan’s already planning the relandscaping so that the garden doesn’t look too bald.”

“Oh, goodie, a proper project. You’ll have to have a launch party.”

“A naked one, like Francis Heyward?”

She gave a mock groan, “Oh don’t. You reckon his party will happen?”

“Yes, it will. The last one was fairly wild and talking to some of the guys who’ve worked there longest, there have been some pretty amazing ones over the years.”

“But all male?”

“The raunchier ones, yes. I think that the mixed parties are more colourful than explicit.”

“How the other half lives”, she turned to me. “Do you get a guest list for the launch party at The Manor?”

“I guess so. I can check but certainly a few people.”

She smiled, “Like old friends.”

“Of course. Besides, he owes you. He wouldn’t have got the pictures of Greg otherwise, would he?”

--oOo—oOo—

“Do you think they dare mention Francis Heyward?” Dan whispered to me, a malicious smile on his face.

“After last time?”

We were having a drink with Martin and Bart. It wasn’t planned, we’d bumped into them at a gallery. Martin had smiled and said, ‘See, we do cultural things sometimes’. It seemed churlish not to have a drink, at least.

It was Martin who broached it, “How is Mr Heyward?”

I shrugged, “Apart from getting me to hang his pictures, talking about retrenchment and planning a party?”

“His pictures?”

“A party?”

“Francis Heyward asked Vaughan to take care of the hang of the pictures in the public rooms of The Manor.”

The response was polite interest from Bart, whilst Martin clearly understood the significance, “New move for you, Vaughan. Is this going to be a regular thing?”

I shrugged. Dan grinned, “If anyone gets to see it”, Bart stared. “He’s talking about mothballing The Manor, down-sizing.”

“Only temporarily.”

Dan pulled a face, “Maybe. So, it’s not clear who’ll see the hang.”

“Bit shitty of him.”

“Good practice for me, though. I’ve got an exhibition at the Tramshed too.”

This led to a discussion about the exhibition; the two might not have a strong interest in contemporary art but naked men? That was another thing entirely.

Martin, however, picked up something from earlier, “What pictures are you hanging at The Manor, Vaughan? I thought his collection was all Old Masters?”

“His personal stuff is; that’s kept in his bedroom and private sitting room. The public rooms are being rehung with a new collection. His Father’s collection of paintings is largely being retired, and he’s been accumulating new ones. That’s how I got involved. It’s all contemporary stuff”, I was being deliberately tantalising.

Dan smiled, “Male nudes. Lots of willies.”

Bart snorted, “This I’d like to see.”

“It can be arranged.”

“Hang on, let’s be clear. Francis Heyward is planning on hanging male nudes in his public rooms.”

“Bang on. Lots of them, double hang, triple for small pictures. Wall to wall, but don’t forget they’re contemporary.”

Dan smiled, “Some require a bit of imagination.”

“All the same”, Martin smiled.

Bart was eager, “You said it could be arranged?”

“Yeah. The day the photographer comes, I will have a small preview for friends and family. Launch it on an unsuspecting public.”

Bart was all smiles, “So, we get to see The Manor and meet Francis Heyward.”

Dan laughed, “Before he closes the whole thing up.”

Martin, however, picked up another aspect, “And family?”

Bart grinned, they’d both met Mother, “Your Mother and all those willies?”

“Come on Bart, it’s Vaughan’s big debut. She’ll come won’t she, Vaughan?”

I smiled, “Unfortunately, I think you are right. She’ll be polite and then tell me exactly what she thought later.” We all laughed.

“And Dan’s Gran?”

We both shook our heads, Dan answered, “Not sure. But I’ve got to ask.”

Martin blinked, “Scusi, Nonna, but my boyfriend’s curated a show of modern male nudes for a notorious financier who gives dodgy parties.”

Dan shrugged, good humouredly, “Got to be done.”

“There’s also a themed party.”

Martin looked puzzled, “I thought you said he was downsizing?”

Dan smiled, “They’re calling it The Last Party at work.”

“Its theme is suitably OTT. The male nude.”

Bart’s eyes widened, “You mean?”

“The guests, all male and fully nude. The waiters and security too.”

Martin pulled a face, “How the hell does a security man do his job with his dick out?”

“Got it in one. I’ve told him we won’t, and he’s getting contract staff to do it.”

“So, you won’t be there?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Vaughan and I have been invited as guests.”

“As guests?”

“Are you?”

“Well, as Dan pointed out, it’s a bit like the boots only night at The Anvil.”

“Only more pretentious.”

“Will you?”

I looked at Martin and shrugged, “We can’t decide. After the last one, we vowed we’d keep our knickers firmly on next time, and Dan said he’d never go to one of Heyward’s parties again. But”, I shrugged, “he’s still Dan’s employer and we don’t want to piss him off, so probably.”

Martin smiled, “Go on, admit it. You’re just too nosey to turn it down. Think of who you might see there?”

“That’s what worries me. And if there’s an orgy room, we’ll definitely give that a miss.”

“Too worried about bumping into Francis Heyward?”

“Or someone whose show I’ve just reviewed.”

Martin laughed, “I could see that being a problem.”

Bart simply shook his head, “I don’t suppose?”

“Not a chance. The party is for Francis Heyward’s friends only, strictly no extras. And we’re definitely not friends enough to ask that sort of favour!”

“And”, Dan had a wicked look on his face, “I don’t think either of you are Francis Heyward’s type.”

Bart looked mock offended, and Martin laughed.