hard to read, though. When did they arrive?’
‘This one’ – he tapped the Arc de Triomphe – ‘came last year, and the other one about a year before.’
‘And any before that?’
‘About one each year, I guess, but I wouldn’t know where to find them right now. Assuming we still have them, that is.’
Goodhew started reading. The actual correspondence space on each card was typically small, and Mary Osborne seemed to have had difficulty reducing the size of her handwriting to fit. The loops on her letters remained disproportionately large, so that the smaller characters – such as a,
c
and
e
– were almost lost amid the tangle created by the
l
s,
t
s and gs.
Don’t forget to visit Becca. Just so you know, I think of all our kids. Time it was your turn – Mary.
And the other read:
All’s fine here. I think of Cambridge from time to time, but know I did the right thing when I left. Sorry if you still hate me – Mary.
They’d been sent to the house on Pound Hill without any addressee’s name but they had clearly been meant for Gerry. ‘Why do you have them here?’
Dan had stepped back to give Goodhew space to read. He was now leaning against the wall, with one hand resting on the Car-Hits-Cow sculpture. ‘Dad rented out the house after she left, and had the post redirected here until he worked out what he was going to do next.’
His fingers drifted across a seam on the sculpture, where the metal joined the leather.
Despite its basic outhouse appearance, the room was dry and the ceiling high, with glazed panels fitted in the roof for natural light. ‘Does he do this work in here?’ As soon as Goodhew said it, he registered the absence of any tools.
‘No, his current home address is his studio . . . or, to put it another way, he dosses in a corner of his workshop. We just store this item here.’
‘Does it have a name?’
‘That’s your polite way of saying
What is it
, right?’ Dan waved an upturned palm in front of the piece. ‘This thing is the infamous
Singular Fascination.’
It took Goodhew a second before he realized. ‘The same one he smashed?’
‘I brought the bits back here. At first he wasn’t interested, but he repaired it eventually.’ Dan pointed to a scuff and a dent in the metal. ‘Of course, some of the damage was tricky, and in a couple of places Dad chose not to replace the parts. Since its whole dynamic had arisen from us losing Becca and from his divorce, I suppose it was fitting that his later reaction to Jackson getting paroled has left its mark too.’
Goodhew tilted his head slightly. He’d seen art critics do the same and wondered whether this slightly new angle of view would help at all. It didn’t.
‘You don’t have to “get it”.’
‘No?’
‘Think of it like the catwalk where the fashion models wear apparently extreme designs. Those designs showcase the designer; they are a calling card for the inspiration, the
Zeitgeist
of the creator, and it’s from there the high-street collections are born.’
‘So some form of this object ends up being a commercial product?’
‘From this particular exhibition, Dad received several commissions: a sculpture for a company headquarters, work for private collectors, even the design installations at a London casino. You’d be surprised.’
Goodhew was inclined to agree about that. He stared at the sculpture for a few more seconds. ‘You work for him, don’t you?’
‘Only since Becca. I’m surprised that’s on record.’
‘I guessed, actually. I noticed how your tone changes when you talk about his work.’
‘I was writing copy for a staff magazine in town, and offered to help my dad in my spare time. I started with the correspondence and accounts. Eventually he needed more assistance, so I decided to “make the leap”, as they say. The biggest risk in that was wondering whether we’d be able to work together.’
‘And you can, I guess?’
‘My father’s spent more time in the
‘This one’ – he tapped the Arc de Triomphe – ‘came last year, and the other one about a year before.’
‘And any before that?’
‘About one each year, I guess, but I wouldn’t know where to find them right now. Assuming we still have them, that is.’
Goodhew started reading. The actual correspondence space on each card was typically small, and Mary Osborne seemed to have had difficulty reducing the size of her handwriting to fit. The loops on her letters remained disproportionately large, so that the smaller characters – such as a,
c
and
e
– were almost lost amid the tangle created by the
l
s,
t
s and gs.
Don’t forget to visit Becca. Just so you know, I think of all our kids. Time it was your turn – Mary.
And the other read:
All’s fine here. I think of Cambridge from time to time, but know I did the right thing when I left. Sorry if you still hate me – Mary.
They’d been sent to the house on Pound Hill without any addressee’s name but they had clearly been meant for Gerry. ‘Why do you have them here?’
Dan had stepped back to give Goodhew space to read. He was now leaning against the wall, with one hand resting on the Car-Hits-Cow sculpture. ‘Dad rented out the house after she left, and had the post redirected here until he worked out what he was going to do next.’
His fingers drifted across a seam on the sculpture, where the metal joined the leather.
Despite its basic outhouse appearance, the room was dry and the ceiling high, with glazed panels fitted in the roof for natural light. ‘Does he do this work in here?’ As soon as Goodhew said it, he registered the absence of any tools.
‘No, his current home address is his studio . . . or, to put it another way, he dosses in a corner of his workshop. We just store this item here.’
‘Does it have a name?’
‘That’s your polite way of saying
What is it
, right?’ Dan waved an upturned palm in front of the piece. ‘This thing is the infamous
Singular Fascination.’
It took Goodhew a second before he realized. ‘The same one he smashed?’
‘I brought the bits back here. At first he wasn’t interested, but he repaired it eventually.’ Dan pointed to a scuff and a dent in the metal. ‘Of course, some of the damage was tricky, and in a couple of places Dad chose not to replace the parts. Since its whole dynamic had arisen from us losing Becca and from his divorce, I suppose it was fitting that his later reaction to Jackson getting paroled has left its mark too.’
Goodhew tilted his head slightly. He’d seen art critics do the same and wondered whether this slightly new angle of view would help at all. It didn’t.
‘You don’t have to “get it”.’
‘No?’
‘Think of it like the catwalk where the fashion models wear apparently extreme designs. Those designs showcase the designer; they are a calling card for the inspiration, the
Zeitgeist
of the creator, and it’s from there the high-street collections are born.’
‘So some form of this object ends up being a commercial product?’
‘From this particular exhibition, Dad received several commissions: a sculpture for a company headquarters, work for private collectors, even the design installations at a London casino. You’d be surprised.’
Goodhew was inclined to agree about that. He stared at the sculpture for a few more seconds. ‘You work for him, don’t you?’
‘Only since Becca. I’m surprised that’s on record.’
‘I guessed, actually. I noticed how your tone changes when you talk about his work.’
‘I was writing copy for a staff magazine in town, and offered to help my dad in my spare time. I started with the correspondence and accounts. Eventually he needed more assistance, so I decided to “make the leap”, as they say. The biggest risk in that was wondering whether we’d be able to work together.’
‘And you can, I guess?’
‘My father’s spent more time in the
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