have to be. To help people to see, it might be better to make them want to see. Feeding their fear of seeing, by creating anxiety at the edge of perception—punishing them for not being able to see— might be counter-productive.”
“So you do think I ought to paint over it and start again?”
“That’s not for me to say,” he replied, proving his cowardice. “But I really am grateful to you for letting me see this. It’s very impressive—perhaps a work of genius.”
“But it’s not the Golden Fleece?”
“No,” he agreed. “Not to me.”
~ * ~
Adrian had hardly started working at his terminal the next morning when Jason Jarndyke appeared beside his desk.
“You got into the barn last night,” he stated.
“Yes,” Adrian replied, cautiously.
“My spies tell me that Angie seemed disappointed when she came in. Should I conclude that you didn’t like what you saw there?”
“It’s impressive,” Adrian told him. “But no, I didn’t like it. I’m truly sorry—but I could hardly lie about it, could I?”
“You didn’t like any of her stuff, in fact, did you? Including the ones you saw at the house?”
“I liked the one of you.”
“There’s one of me?” Jarndyke visibly brightened.
“Yes—you’ve seen that one, I think. You’re hidden in a yellow splodge, but I could see you.”
The Industrialist shook his head. “I’ve been doing her an injustice all these years,” he said, ruefully, “I really thought there was nothing there. Made me feel quite uncomfortable at times. I’ll try to make it up to her, if I can.”
He could have gone away then, but he didn’t. There was something more.
“I’ve been in the barn, you know,” the industrialist confessed. “I couldn’t resist the temptation. Ange would kill me if she knew, but I had to. I had to try. I saw it all: the faces, the red light, the self-portrait. I didn’t understand it, because I don’t understand that sort of thing, but it seemed very clever. You saw more, though, didn’t you. There are things hidden in it that I can’t see—that I’m not meant to see—aren’t there?”
“Yes, there are,” Adrian confirmed.
“If I knew what they were...would I be worried? Should I be worried?”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Jarndyke,” Adrian. “To tell the truth, I was a little worried myself, beforehand...scared even...but that was silly. As you say, it’s very clever. Very clever indeed. You’re wife is a real artist. She still has a lot of future ahead of her.”
“You won’t tell her I’ve seen it, will you?” the industrialist said, anxiously.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Adrian assured him. “All your secrets are safe with me.”
“I took a risk hiring you, you know, Son. Not with respect to the product—it was obvious that you were the man for the job— but with respect to the other thing. I didn’t know whether you were going to see anything at all, and I still don’t know what it is you saw...but I knew that it would make a difference, either way. It was a risk.”
Adrian nodded, to show that he understood.
“I’m happy,” the big man told him, out of the blue. “I’ve always been happy. I’m a happy man. Maybe it’s because I can’t see things that other people can, and maybe I’m just made that way. I’d like Angie to be happy too, if that’s possible. Do you think that’s possible, Adrian?”
“I don’t know,” Adrian told him. “I’m the last person in the world who can offer an opinion on that matter.”
“You think that,” Jason Jarndyke said, “but I wonder if it’s really true. To me, you see, it seems that you just need to get out more, to get a girl-friend, to have some fun. I think you could and should be happy—unless there’s something I’m just not seeing, just not understanding.”
“It’s not in your interests for me to be
“So you do think I ought to paint over it and start again?”
“That’s not for me to say,” he replied, proving his cowardice. “But I really am grateful to you for letting me see this. It’s very impressive—perhaps a work of genius.”
“But it’s not the Golden Fleece?”
“No,” he agreed. “Not to me.”
~ * ~
Adrian had hardly started working at his terminal the next morning when Jason Jarndyke appeared beside his desk.
“You got into the barn last night,” he stated.
“Yes,” Adrian replied, cautiously.
“My spies tell me that Angie seemed disappointed when she came in. Should I conclude that you didn’t like what you saw there?”
“It’s impressive,” Adrian told him. “But no, I didn’t like it. I’m truly sorry—but I could hardly lie about it, could I?”
“You didn’t like any of her stuff, in fact, did you? Including the ones you saw at the house?”
“I liked the one of you.”
“There’s one of me?” Jarndyke visibly brightened.
“Yes—you’ve seen that one, I think. You’re hidden in a yellow splodge, but I could see you.”
The Industrialist shook his head. “I’ve been doing her an injustice all these years,” he said, ruefully, “I really thought there was nothing there. Made me feel quite uncomfortable at times. I’ll try to make it up to her, if I can.”
He could have gone away then, but he didn’t. There was something more.
“I’ve been in the barn, you know,” the industrialist confessed. “I couldn’t resist the temptation. Ange would kill me if she knew, but I had to. I had to try. I saw it all: the faces, the red light, the self-portrait. I didn’t understand it, because I don’t understand that sort of thing, but it seemed very clever. You saw more, though, didn’t you. There are things hidden in it that I can’t see—that I’m not meant to see—aren’t there?”
“Yes, there are,” Adrian confirmed.
“If I knew what they were...would I be worried? Should I be worried?”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Jarndyke,” Adrian. “To tell the truth, I was a little worried myself, beforehand...scared even...but that was silly. As you say, it’s very clever. Very clever indeed. You’re wife is a real artist. She still has a lot of future ahead of her.”
“You won’t tell her I’ve seen it, will you?” the industrialist said, anxiously.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Adrian assured him. “All your secrets are safe with me.”
“I took a risk hiring you, you know, Son. Not with respect to the product—it was obvious that you were the man for the job— but with respect to the other thing. I didn’t know whether you were going to see anything at all, and I still don’t know what it is you saw...but I knew that it would make a difference, either way. It was a risk.”
Adrian nodded, to show that he understood.
“I’m happy,” the big man told him, out of the blue. “I’ve always been happy. I’m a happy man. Maybe it’s because I can’t see things that other people can, and maybe I’m just made that way. I’d like Angie to be happy too, if that’s possible. Do you think that’s possible, Adrian?”
“I don’t know,” Adrian told him. “I’m the last person in the world who can offer an opinion on that matter.”
“You think that,” Jason Jarndyke said, “but I wonder if it’s really true. To me, you see, it seems that you just need to get out more, to get a girl-friend, to have some fun. I think you could and should be happy—unless there’s something I’m just not seeing, just not understanding.”
“It’s not in your interests for me to be
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