Page 135 of Double or Nothing

I’m surprised when his grin disappears.

“I’ve evolved since then.”

I’m the one laughing now, and Alice’s mouth twitches despite herself.

“Evolved. Sure, yes. Art expert.”

Jack looks genuinely lambasted.

He takes hold of a cushion and lobs it at us.

“Alright, sceptics, if I’m such an art blagger, let’s test out my knowledge.” His smile comes back. “Put the trio of canvases in. For real. I’m happy to have my splattered jizz under the spotlights in Hammersmith. Thomas Mackley can get fucked. They’ll make more than his.”

Alice goes still.

My hand pauses on her ankle.

The trio of canvases.

I haven’t even seen them yet. All I know was how in the flow she was when she was picking up where we left off.

Jack might be half serious, but Alice wouldn’t have been. They may have been born out of filthy, dirty chaos, but no doubt they morphed into masterpieces.

Alice closes her sketchbook.

“No.”

Jack sits up straighter. “No?”

“No.” Her voice is firm.

“Interesting. That was quick.”

“They’re private.”

“Hmm. Private can be expensive. It’s got the pound signs ringing even louder.”

“Jack!”

He grins. “What? I’m just saying. Rich people love private. It makes them feel special.”

“They’re not ready.”

That’s a lie. Even I can hear it. A tremor in her voice. Vulnerable.

Jack hears it louder.

His eyes narrow slightly, not in anger. In interest. He’s found a thread and he’s about to pull it.

“Not ready, or you’re scared?”

Alice’s chin lifts. “I’m not scared.”

“Sure.”

“I’m not.”

“Then show us.”