A Model Mother

Chapter 11

Shortly after saying goodbye to his Mother, Miles headed off to Hamleys to get a toy for Lloyd, intending to follow her advice of keeping it simple. She was also able to give him a briefing about what toys LLoyd already had and what were his favourites. He felt the need to keep himself busy as his meeting with Rose and his son was preoccupying his thoughts. He also found himself referring constantly to flashbacks of   happy memories of himself and  Rose and couldn’t stop himself comparing the painful difference in circumstances between then and now.

He had first met Rose at a PR event for a talented and relatively unknown young British artist. The artist, David Fulgoni, was being sponsored by an extremely wealthy British businessman, Michael Corvic, whom Miles had recently become acquainted with due to a property deal he had conducted through Setons.

Miles had intended to spend a short time at the exhibit, have a chat with Corvic, who he liked very much and leave. Then he had planned to contact Francesca, check she was ok and have an early night.  He had just split up with Francesca and whilst it had been an amicable split he had known that she was feeling lonely and he wanted to ensure they remained the good friends they had always been.

They had both been taken aback by the ferocity of Max’s reaction to the break-up of their relationship and he had suspected Max was putting undue pressure on Francesca to get back together with him. He knew that it was commonly believed that he had dumped Francesca for Rose, a rumour that he now held Max responsible for spreading.

When Miles had reached his destination in Fitzrovia and had walked through the door of the Fulgoni exhibit, he had found his eyes drawn immediately to his right, where an impossibly tall and elegant blonde was staring intently at a large rectangular canvas, with her head cocked slightly to one side. She was cradling a glass of champagne in both hands.

In an instant, Miles had taken in her pale flawless skin, slim supple body, soft golden hair that flowed down her back in thick waves, perfectly manicured hands and designer dress and shoes. The canvas she was staring at seemed to be a swirl of blues and green interspersed with curls of black. Her stunning looks had not gone unnoticed in the gallery and Miles saw several solicitous males clucking around her, checking her glass was full and trying their best to get her attention.

Miles had walked confidently over to the painting and had waited until he could slip in beside her. Once he had done so he briefly feigned interest in the canvas before turning to look more closely at the blonde. The first thing he had noted were her incredible khaki eyes.They were large ,beautiful and fringed by the longest sootiest lashes he had seen. She had perfect features set in a heart shaped face and once he was close up he had thought too that she looked  familiar.

Miles had not escaped her attention either.

“Do you like it?” she asked him directly, looking straight at him and smiling.

She was English, he noted, and had a slight south London drawl. He liked her directness.

“Yes, I do,” he replied, it’s a sort of...” he paused and looked again at the canvas, “Piccasset”. “Or maybe,” he continued, “more of a Monasso?”

She had cracked up, getting it immediately.

“That’s amazing; I had just been thinking how it looked like a mixture of one of Monet’s Water lilies and a Picasso abstract. I love the colours; it reminds me of the Pacific Ocean.”

“Oh, that’s one of my favourite places to scuba dive,” Miles agreed.

He had her attention again.

“Me too. Have you ever been to Palau?”

“Regretfully, no, it’s first on the list of places I want to get to.”