Priceless by Olivia Darling Page A

hanging over the fireplace where that awful daub of you and I used to be. I think Mother must have brought it down from some room in the west wing to piss you off last time you were there for dinner.”
    “Oh, it pissed me off all right,” said Mark. “But are you sure it went for twenty-five grand?”
    “I’m quite sure. Incredible, eh?”
    “Yes,” said Mark, “because it wasn’t an old picture at all. It was painted just this year.”
    Julian was confused. “I don’t get it.”
    “It’s true. Mother had her next-door neighbor paint her bloody rescue greyhounds.”
    “What? Which neighbor?” Julian couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
    “The one with the tits and the hair.”
    “You mean Serena?”
    “She the brunette?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s the one.”
    “But … but. She didn’t tell me.”
    “Mother told me the last time I saw her. Shortly before she told me that she wanted to skip a generation in her will and leave Dad’s Patek Philippe to my youngest. I assumed you knew.”
    “I had no idea. And neither did Nat Wilde’s team. They attributed it to some Victorian. Follower of Stubbs.”
    “Should we tell Wilde?” Mark asked.
    “Mark, are you insane?”
    “He’ll want to know.”
    “Sure. But it’s too late. We’re talking about a painting that sold for twenty-five grand. It was one of the biggest lots in the sale.”
    “But it was a fake.… It’s less than a year old.”
    “And we didn’t say otherwise. We didn’t say anything about it at all. Nat Wilde’s the one who made the mistake. And the girl he sent down afterward should have spotted it was new. The way I see it, we’re in the clear. We’ve done nothing wrong. I say we treat this as a little windfall and keep quiet.”
    “Are you serious?”
    “I need the cash.”
    “Oh, sod it. You’re right,” said Mark, giving in quickly. “So do I. We’ll keep quiet. I’ve got school fees to pay. But bloody hell … twenty-five grand. Mother gave nearly that much of our inheritance to the dogs’ home anyway.”
    “Fuck, yes. It’s our right to claw some back.”
    “I’ve got to go,” said Mark. “Give the missus the good news.”
    “Don’t tell her about the dogs. The fewer people who hear about this the better.”
    “She’s only interested in the money. Though she’ll probably blow the lot on some more bloody designer orthopedic shoes. I’ll call you tomorrow to talk about the house. I was thinking we could try to rent it while the market’s so flat.”
    “Good for me,” said Julian.
    “Twenty-five grand for those dogs. Un-bloody-believable.” Mark whistled through his teeth.
    Unbelievable indeed. When the conversation ended, Julian paced the empty room, an unlit cigarette between his lips. He’d been trying to give it up for a long time but he’d found that having a fag in his mouth helped him to think, and right then he was having some particularly interesting thoughts.
    He grabbed his coat and went next door.

CHAPTER 15

    J ulian hadn’t told Serena he was going to be in Cornwall that week, so she was a little shocked but pleased, he fancied, to see him when he rang her doorbell at ten to ten.
    “I’ve got something really important to talk to you about.”
    Serena put her hand to her throat in surprise.
    “It’s ten o’clock at night!” She wasn’t sure she should accept a booty call. “You might have phoned.”
    “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t tell you about this now.”
    Serena’s face fell. Julian looked anxious. Had he come to break up with her already?
    “Can I come in?” he asked again.
    Might as well get it over with , Serena thought. “Of course,” she said. She led him into the sitting room. The atmosphere between them was heavy, as though he were a debt collector turning up to take what he was owed, rather than her lover.
    “Can I have a drink?” he asked.
    “Sure.” Serena poured the last of her whiskey. Julian had finished off most of