The Sweetness of Liberty James (3 page)

‘Art is all in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is worth much more.'

As Liberty looked up she saw that at least the stranger was smiling rather than looking lecherous.

‘Is that your best chat-up line?' she asked, realising that despite his tweed jacket he was similar to her in age.

‘Golly, I hope not,' he replied in a clipped, very English way. ‘Percy,' he continued, and stuck his hand out. Liberty's hand was engulfed in a warm, dry, pleasantly firm one, and she was instantly attracted to his blue eyes that twinkled in a naughty, un-English way, and the smooth, well-shaven, chiselled face with a strong jaw and a strangely predatory, hawk-like nose. At that moment Bob scuttled towards them and put his arms around both their waists as he wasn't tall enough to embrace their shoulders.

‘Have you ever seen such crap?' he asked, glancing at the price of the piece they were gazing at in horror. ‘I should take up making plasticine pigs. Shall we get out of here?'

In throwing them together Bob was being just a tiny bit wicked. He had overheard Percy talking to a successful dealer, saying his appreciation had led him to hope he could invest in art for his future to make the glum, dull days of working in a bank more manageable, and he would love to enjoy the excitement of the auctions. Bob privately wondered why, if this Percy loved paintings so much, he planned to work in a bank, unless what he was really interested in was money, in which case Bob would be his ‘uncle'.

Percy had managed not to flinch when this obvious poof put an arm round his waist, but he had overheard the gallery owner talking about Bob Forest, a new chap to look out for, as he knew what he was talking about, despite his youth and silliness. Once Bob had a gallery of his own, he would soon be snatching up all the promising young artists as he was in their peer group, and other gallery owners would be missing out if they were not careful. Anyway, this beautiful, leggy, doe-eyed girl was obviously Bob's friend, and he definitely wanted to get to know her. So J-T, Bob, Liberty and Percy joined a group at a local wine bar, frequented by students and artists, or those who could afford to drink wine and those who were sufficiently attractive to encourage others to buy it for them.

Percy obviously could afford to buy. He started the table off with two bottles of Bollinger.

‘Well done, Liberty,' whispered J-T, nudging her in the ribs. ‘And not bad looking either, despite wearing his grandfather's clothes!'

‘He seems charming,' replied Liberty loyally. After all, he had just spent an entire student allowance on their drinks.

‘Are you not joining us?' Percy asked Liberty, noticing she had only a glass of water.

‘Oh, you don't know her guilty secret, then?' joked J-T.

Percy stepped a few paces back, worried he had just tried to press champagne on an alcoholic.

‘Oh, don't pay any attention,' laughed Liberty. ‘I just don't have any sense of taste or smell, so I don't bother to drink. It would be wasted on me.'

‘I know, I know,' said J-T, giggling and shaking his head. ‘We just drink to get bladdered and this little poppet doesn't see the point. I blame the French influence on her, they are all far too serious when it comes to wine!'

Percy smiled and in doing so looked far more relaxed and handsome. He sat down beside her. ‘So tell me,' he said in a stage whisper, ‘I'm dying to know all about you. Beautiful,
French and able to put up with this lot. I find you intriguingly different already!'

Liberty was flattered by such attention. She was used to being passed over by straight men, considered too aloof, too beautiful, and therefore out of their reach. They didn't bother chatting her up, thinking she was above them, and she was often lonely as a result. She had rarely been asked for a date. Once a lovely chap had asked her to dance at a school ball, but she had been horrified to learn, after kissing him behind a rack of chairs, that it had all been a bet. The gaggle of giggling, pointing boys standing nearby gave it all away. The lad who had kissed her had only recently started at her school and was from South Africa. All the boys in his group had bet him a fiver that with his funny sense of fashion, cowboy boots and blazer, there was no way he could get to kiss a girl.

Liberty had fled back to her mates in horror, thinking she would never trust a boy again, until her father, hearing of her decision, said she was very smart.

‘My dear, all boys are as bad as each other. They, and I speak from experience, as I was once one of them, just want to get into your knickers. I would wait until you come of age and meet a gentleman.'

Alain had spent most of his fatherhood years preparing to shoot any boy or man who set eyes on his beloved little girl, so was thrilled to discourage his daughter from joining in the dating game.

Liberty turned to Percy. ‘I'm not French, although my grandmother was. J-T simply assumes anyone with a food background must be French, but thank you,' she said sheepishly, ‘for calling me beautiful.'

Percy was charming. He listened attentively and asked questions, was well-mannered and kept jumping up to order more drinks. He told her his family owned a bank. It had been founded by his great-grandfather, who had bought a stately pile
in the Sussex Weald when he became successful, and this had been passed on through the generations.

‘How extraordinary!' exclaimed Liberty. ‘My family home is in East Sussex. It's such a beautiful part of the country, and relatively unknown.'

‘Oh my goodness, you aren't Alain James's daughter, are you?' asked Percy, the penny dropping. ‘My family spend all birthdays and celebrations at The Dark Horse!'

Bob and J-T looked on, J-T pleased for his friend, Bob jealously trying to get in on the conversation as Percy had just admitted to Liberty that his aim in life was to own at least one genuine Impressionist masterpiece; his parents' home, he announced somewhat flippantly, was full of stuffy old masters! Bob could barely contain himself.

J-T was aware of Bob's attempts at becoming an entrepreneur, and also recognised his sexual inclination. ‘Don't worry, darling,' he whispered. ‘When he and Liberty start dating she can persuade him to buy his pictures through you. Much more subtle that way.'

‘Oh!' shrieked Bob. ‘You sneaky little so-and-so. By the way, are you seeing anyone?'

‘Well, I was, until tonight.' And with that they started snogging at the table with the enthusiasm of puppies finding a lost sock to share. This caused loud whoops of joy to come from their friends, and Percy to take a large swig of his champagne.

Liberty looked at this handsome, eloquent man, shocked and pleasantly surprised to find someone undaunted by her parents' fame and success. Percy's family were not at all put off by the celebrity of her father's restaurant. Unbelievably, some of the more snooty, snobbish people in the area around Fickledown had refused to dine there, claiming that a chef's reputation should be on the plate and not in the papers. And this was despite the excellent food, the best in the south-east.

Alain had always claimed that if ignorant people were the only ones who paid to eat, La Colombe d'Or in St Paul de Vence
would have shut down long ago, so he didn't care if people with closed minds chose to stay away. He still raved about the Colombe's ratatouille, never making it himself again since trying theirs. ‘No point, theirs is the best.'

Percy insisted on dropping Liberty back at her hall of residence, and with the promise of a phone call the next day and a peck on the cheek, off he went.

3

The first call the following day came not from Percy, but from J-T. ‘Is Percy still there? Am I calling too early?' he asked.

Liberty yawned and said no, but why was he up so early? He must have the biggest hangover ever.

‘Only from too much sex,' giggled J-T excitedly, and then Liberty knew he had not really phoned to find out about Percy, but to regale her with his own night of passion.

She heaved herself out of bed and made a cup of instant coffee with the tiny kettle in her room. She settled back against the pillows, the only place to sit comfortably, so she could listen to J-T chattering away about the most amazing, wonderful man he had ever met, how both earth and bed had moved more than once, and how he was madly in love.

‘Oh? Oh yeah?' laughed Liberty. ‘Heard that one before. How long do I give it this time? A week, tops?'

‘No, no, this is very different, I'm sure,' insisted J-T. ‘How about a double date?'

When Percy did call later that day –
very well-mannered,
thought Liberty – he was quite clear that a double date was out of the question. Liberty could almost feel him recoiling from the phone like a dog thinking he had found the best stick, only to discover it was an adder.

‘I think I would rather court you in private.'
Pompous or romantic?
wondered Liberty. Was he homophobic, or was it just an aversion to double dates, which she happened to share. She agreed to meet him the next Saturday at REDS, a bistro run by a Russian who shouted at the customers and thrust vodka shots
down their throats, but who cooked the most sublime veal in white wine and sage, and who was known as one of the best chefs in Cambridge. Percy had taken note of Liberty's parentage but not that she could neither taste nor smell what she was eating. However, she was flattered that he wanted to take her to such a grown-up establishment, and she could appreciate attractive food as well as the next person.

Percy appeared to be the essence of charm and a fine example of a perfect gentleman. He ordered two glasses of Sauternes to accompany the sautéed foie gras. The plates were accompanied by twists of toasted caraway-seeded black bread. Liberty politely sipped the wine, enjoying its honey texture, and she could see the liver was cooked to perfection: slightly crisp on the outside, soft and yielding within. But her principles about well-raised and fairly treated livestock, not only important for the animals but also for the taste of the meat, according to her father, who refused to use crated or caged animals, led her stomach to tighten and she only took a few bites.

However, manners prevailed and she didn't complain to Percy. For their main course he had ordered a whole turbot, albeit a small one, between them. It came accompanied by tiny pieces of roast beetroot and a sour cream chive sauce.

Over dessert of blackcurrant kissel, Liberty realised she had thoroughly enjoyed his company. He was interesting, his knowledge of art and books was extensive and he was well-travelled. His parents had seemingly been very indulgent, taking him to France, Italy and the States, and also to various countries in the Middle East. This was mostly to follow his father, who travelled professionally. She wept openly when he told her his sister had tragically drowned at only nine years of age, in the pond on the family estate. A horrific accident, caused by unknown underlying health issues, and which no one could have foreseen but his mother blamed herself, had the pond filled in and covered with rose bushes because the girl's name was Elizabeth Rose. But nowadays she was barely mentioned.

‘I'm impressed that your father works at his bank. I thought most privately owned banks were run by the City lot nowadays,' said Liberty, genuinely interested.

‘Oh, he always insisted that we are new money and must work to show the difference between us and the lazy upper classes,' laughed Percy. ‘I'll be expected to spend my days there after my time here.'

‘Don't you want to do something connected with art?'

‘Yes, in an ideal world, but as it's a family bank, I really have no option. Being their only child I do feel a certain responsibility.' Percy shrugged, seemingly with a typical English lack of ego. He appeared to be close to both of his parents, and to love them deeply and visit them often. They had a home in London so he could overnight there when partying in town.

‘Maybe over the Christmas break I could bring them to your father's restaurant and they could meet?'

‘Gosh, that sounds serious! Do you think we will last that long?' laughed Liberty. It was only October.

‘I think so, don't you?' asked Percy, raising a quizzical eyebrow in a disarmingly attractive and naughty way.

During the meal Percy had noted how Liberty took little wine, and ate only small amounts.
She definitely fancies me,
he thought smugly, but wasn't surprised. He was a good catch, after all. He appreciated her shiny conker brown hair and her gleaming green eyes, her smooth ivory skin. Her shapely but slim figure that he had admired at the art gallery was shown off to its best effect tonight in a clinging Hervé Léger jersey dress that looked as though the designer had taken hold of some beautiful bandages in silver grey and wrapped them round her like a mummy, only stopping to make sure her breasts were pushed up becomingly like snow moguls. He appreciated beauty whether it was on canvas or a human being, and he realised he had found a rarity. Not only was she well-educated and widely read, she was kind, compassionate and uncommonly thoughtful.

He admired the way she subtly pointed to her shoes to
indicate to some poor unfortunate woman she had loo roll stuck under hers when she came out of the ladies'. Most girls he knew were only too pleased to see another attractive female embarrass herself. She spoke warmly of her family but didn't push their fame, didn't seem interested in fame herself and looked altogether very down to earth. A little lost in life, perhaps; she had no idea what she wanted to do after university apart from helping others, but as he told her, what good comes of giving too much of one's self before one knows who oneself is? That was no obstacle in a wife, though, for wasn't he looking for someone he could guide and shape to his needs?

And Liberty, if he was honest, was who he was looking for. He was too young, he knew, to marry now, but he was ambitious and wise enough to know already that behind every great man is an enabling wife. What luck to have found such a perfect girl, what a relief. Now he could stop hunting and start enjoying life. And gosh, she was someone he could grow to enjoy!