Chapter 2

"Telling you my story is having a profound effect on me; as I told you Anita was quite shocked seeing herself in a portrait with me. A painting that was two hundred years old." I stood, my joints creaking, "Would you excuse me for a minute, I've been sitting here 'free falling' too long. I need to stretch these old legs. Perhaps I could buy you a coffee, Yes?"

"Ok."

"Let's walk to the kiosk while I tell you what happened next:"

Anita started shaking from the shock, the portrait was an exact likeness of us and I felt a shivering tremor run through me. I slid the portrait back into the box and turning I took Anita into my arms, "Calm down darling, just breathe slowly, that's it breathe deeply."

I held her close and could feel her slowly recovering.

"Paul, do you play this trick on all your female friends?"

"Please believe me darling this has nothing to do with me, I swear."

"I'm sorry Paul that was a tacky thing to say, I'm simply bewildered. This must be a trick."

"I don't indulge in that kind of trickery, it would be juvenile behaviour and completely abhorrent." Anita tilted her head and stared intently at me. I knew that she believed me but her look was questioning, seeking an answer, any answer.

"Would you like a drink while we try to sort this out, white wine?"

"Yes, please," she replied emphatically as she sat heavily onto a kitchen chair. I prepared the drinks and taking the delivery docket from the art dealer, I spread it out on the table in front of her.

"I don't mean anything by asking you this but do you know this art dealer?"

"Paul what are you thinking, I had nothing to do with this, I don't own any art works," and looking down she read the delivery docket, "and I don't know this gallery!"

"The man I deal with is Arthur Symonds do you know him?"

"Paul please stop. I told you I don't know anyone in the art world. The only artists that I know work in the graphics arts business. A totally different world."

Anita clutched her glass and drank deeply trying to soften her annoyance, and feelings of dread. When she looked at me, I could see that I had gone too far, her face was drawn and pale.

Taking her hand, I stood and drew her close to me holding her firmly, "I'm sorry darling, don't misunderstand me I'm just trying to see how someone might do this to us."

"Then I hope that you don't suspect me."

"No, No I don't suspect you... Not at all, I'm sorry if I gave you that impression but I intend to find out what's going on. Tomorrow I'm going to see my art dealer. Would you like to come with me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry but tomorrow is Friday and it's my last day at work here. I have to clean out my desk, the staff has organised a farewell lunch for me, I just won't be able to make it. In the afternoon, I have to pack my stuff and be ready for the removalists on Saturday. I'm sorry Paul I can't make it."

"I'd completely forgotten that you're moving. When do you depart for the West Coast?"

"Sunday."

"Is there anything that I could say that would entice you to stay with me? I can't let you go. Not after..."

"Paul, I'm sorry it's a responsible job that I'm going to, a large department reporting to me... Gosh, I wish..."

"Anita, marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me?" I knew that I was being rash; I was surprising myself because I had resolved that I would never marry again. Now I was fervently hoping that this woman would not reject my proposal.

Anita slumped back into her chair, her elbows on the table and her hands in her hair, which covered her face. "Oh, what a mess I'm in."

I sat across the table from her, and gently took her hands; she shook her head clearing the hair away from her face. "Darling, I beg you, please marry me." The voice inside me kept telling me that this woman was the right person for me.

"Paul my heart says yes, a thousand times yes. But my mind says no, I can't do it. How could you propose marriage to me, you don't even know my last name."

"I act on impulse when I think I'm right... It's my forte and I haven't been wrong yet, at least not on anything major. Please marry me, just say yes now, we won't set a date and if you want to back out it will be your decision and I'll respect that. Please?"

"God, you are one persuasive person. I have this feeling deep inside me that it would be right to say yes but I have an employment contract and I must honour that. You..."

"Yes, I understand but please say yes; I won't stand in your way..."

"Please don't do this to me I'm so vulnerable... and of course I want to say yes but my whole world has turned upside down in one day I..."

And indeed Anita did look vulnerable so I decided to stop pressuring her, "I understand darling, I really do."

Anita sprang from her chair and I rose to meet her and hugged her tightly then I kissed her. She kissed me passionately then pulled back from me and with her head tilted, "Darling, I have to leave soon I have an early start tomorrow."

"Soon is too soon." I pulled her robe open and she pulled my head down to her breasts. She became aroused and when I left off kissing her nipple I nudged into the soft skin of her neck, I felt her shiver so I took her hand, and she followed me to the bedroom.

Our lovemaking was wild and desperate and then it was gentle and all too quickly Anita arose and standing naked before me, "It's late darling and now I really must go." I went with her to the shower.

After we had dried off, I lay on the bed and watched as she returned to her sophisticated self. As she was putting the finishing touches to her makeup, I dressed quickly. "I'll see you home."

In the cab we held hands, we communicated; not with words, but with our hands caressing one another, when suddenly I remembered, "Do you have a business card? I don't even have your phone number."

Fumbling in her handbag, she found her wallet and as she produced her card she said, "You're sneaky, what a way to find out my last name."

I laughed quietly, "It's called acumen. What's your home address and phone number?"

Anita took the card and wrote her private details on the back of the card.

I had the cab driver wait while I walked her to the entrance of her building where I lightly kissed her goodbye.

On the ride back home I felt very alone.

The next morning I phoned Arthur Symonds, my art dealer.

"Arthur, thank you for the pieces that you sent me last Friday. If the prices are reasonable I'll buy them. Have you had them valued?"

"Yes Paul, the Prairie Fire was painted by Josef Delacroix who, as you know, is quite well known and it's worth $20,000. The Mid-western Family is interesting as I thought the male figure has your name and he looks like you. I picked it up at a dealer's auction in St. Paul Minnesota where the auctioneer told me that it came from a deceased estate. You can have it for $300 to cover my costs."

"Arthur, there are artist notes on the back of that canvas but I can't find the artists name anywhere. Do you know who painted it?"

"No, I bought it for fun because the guy in it looked like you..."

"Looked like me? It's almost photo perfect. "

"I didn't think that..."

I cut him off again, "Arthur do you know a good art scientist that could date the work and tell me if the paint is authentic."

"Yes, I know an expert valuer that can do that but he's not cheap."

"That doesn't concern me. Tell me, you said that it was a deceased estate, do you know the name of the family?"

"No I don't Paul. As I said I bought it at a dealer's auction and all I was told was that the heirs were liquidating the assets of the estate. I'm afraid that's all I know. As I said before I didn't take it seriously and I wouldn't have bought it, except for the image of you."

"You know that I've bought most of my paintings from your company so would you do something for me?"

"Sure, if I can."

"Would you be free to visit me at my apartment this morning so I can tell you what I want in more detail?"

"What time did you have in mind?"

"About eleven."

"Hmm, I have problem with that; I have a meeting with a client at 10:30, probably be through with him about 11:30. It would be about midday before I could get to your place."

"That's fine Arthur, see you then."

I found Anita's business card in my jacket pocket, 'Anita Jensen, a beautiful name, ' I thought as I transcribed it into my address book. Then I phoned her office hoping that she could talk before her farewell lunch.

"Hi Paul, I thought you might call and I'm glad you did, now I can take a break."

"Busy huh?"

"Yeah, tired too; you beast!"

I laughed, "I know that you're going home early to pack and I wondered, if I promise not to 'interfere' with you, could I help you pack?"

Anita chuckled, "I would love that! And I wouldn't mind a little 'interference' either. Oh my, please don't say anymore or I won't be able to get through the day but I want you to know that as improbable as it seems I love you."

"I'll see you about four and then I'll convince you that I love you too."

Arthur Symonds arrived at noon and I briefly told him about opening the crate with Anita looking on.

"You mean you know someone called Anita," Arthur asked.

"Yes. we're very close."

"Oh boy! Now I understand why you're so interested in the painting. I hope that she doesn't look like the figure in the painting."

"She does... exactly like the painting." I had been watching Arthur closely but as our conversation continued I was becoming more convinced that he was innocent of any conniving.

"I bought the painting as a light-hearted diversion for you, that's all I had in mind. Let me have another look at the painting so I can see what Anita looks like."

The crate was now in my collection room and I picked it up and placed it on a table. Removing the painting I placed it alongside the crate to allow Arthur to examine it.

After a few minutes of close inspection, Arthur leaned close and sniffed the canvas. "Hmm. The paint seems old, I can't smell any new paint odours; in fact it swells moldy. Paul, take a look at the canvas with the daylight reflecting off the canvas. See, there are no strange paint strokes, there's no over painting that I can see."

I leaned closely and confirmed Arthur's impressions that the canvas had not been doctored.

"It certainly looks authentic to me Paul."

"I'm of the same opinion, so let me tell you what I want you to do for me, would you take the painting with you today and ship it to a recognised forensic art specialist. I would like to establish an accurate date of the painting. The kind of paints used, also an opinion that these paints were in use in 1870.

If your art dealer can do this then well and good but if not, seek out some organization that can do what I want. Keep me in touch so I can approve the spending.