Thief of Hearts
Page 26
“Okay, well, this is the final piece on our curriculum. You’re free to go wander around and check out the rest of the gallery yourselves, so long as you meet me back at the lobby in an hour.”
They all nodded and off they went, while I made my way to the cafeteria to grab a coffee. I waited in line then went to find somewhere to sit. As soon as I found a free table the chair across from mine moved and Stu plopped down onto it.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’ve just been to see that Van Gogh painting, you know, the one with the sunflowers that people are always harping on about.”
I took a sip of my latte. “Oh?”
“Bit of a let-down if I’m honest. I don’t get what all the fuss is about.”
I laughed. “I always preferred Starry Starry Night myself.”
A moment of quiet passed as Stu rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “How much do think someone would get for those sunflowers anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like on the black market. If someone were to steal the painting, how much would it fetch?”
I shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Millions, probably.”
Stu shook his head. “Seems like madness, to pay that much just for a bit of art to hang on your wall.”
“Well, it’s not just a bit of art, Stu. The works on display here are a part of history. They say so much about the time they were created, about the artist who painted them, and that makes them priceless.”
He eyed me seriously, chewing on his lower lip, his gaze calculating. “You ever wondered what it would be like to steal something so valuable?”
I gave him a funny look. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Really? So you’ve never imagined a scenario where you’ve robbed a bank, or I dunno, stolen diamonds or some shit, and had all your money worries just float away.”
I glanced at him, my hands cupping the coffee mug as I shifted in my seat, self-conscious. Little did he know, I had money worries far bigger than he would probably imagine. “Well, maybe, but it’s not like I’d ever act on it. You might get rich quick, but then you’d have other things to worry about. I wouldn’t want to live my life constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if I’d be caught for what I’d stolen.”
Stu’s gaze was steady on me, his elbows resting on the table as several thoughts flickered in his eyes. “I never used to worry. You know, when I stole.”
“Never?” I found that hard to believe.
“I suppose I grew desensitised. When you’ve been stealing since you’re a kid, it just becomes a way of life. It was more like a job than anything else. Me and my brothers got away with it for so long that we thought we were invincible. At least I did. Then it all fell apart and I learned I wasn’t. Far from it, in fact.”
There was an odd note of nostalgia in his voice, almost like he missed it. Not the stealing, per se, but the sense of invincibility, of thinking he’d never get caught.
“I guess you live and learn,” I said, lifting my mug and taking a long gulp.
Stu’s eyes shone with some sort of hidden knowledge and I wondered where all this was coming from. The subject matter was certainly odd.
“But that’s just it, Andrea,” he finally continued, “some of us never learn at all.”
Ten
My conversation with Stu played on my mind. His words echoed in my head, bringing with them a sense of unease. But that’s just it, Andrea, some of us never learn at all.
There were so many things the statement could mean, the most obvious being that he hadn’t learned his lesson from his time behind bars. Did that mean he was going to start breaking the law again, or that he had already?
I hated the idea of him falling back into that life and wanted to do everything in my power to keep it from happening, which was why I picked up the phone and called my dad. Would Stu accept guidance from someone else?
“Andrea, honey, to what do I owe this pleasure?” came his happy voice as he answered.
My dad was the sort of man who was forever in a good mood. My mum, too. They were pretty much the most perfect couple ever to exist in my eyes. So completely in love even after all these years together. Maybe that was why they were so endlessly cheery, because of their love for each other. It was the same as what I had with Mark, and a part of me would always mourn the fact that we hadn’t had years and years together like my parents. Sometimes I succumbed to sadness, but I tried not to fall too deep. I’d had a true and wonderful love once. Perhaps that was enough.
“Hi Dad, I actually called to ask a favour, but how’ve you been? Is Mum well?”
“We’re both as fine as can be. Now what do you need?” he replied kindly.
“Well, I’ve this student. He comes from a very disadvantaged background and is actually just out of prison. I suspect he’s dyslexic but he has a real talent for maths. It could be just that he’s above average, but I think it might be more than that. I think he could be truly exceptional with the right teacher.”
“And you’d like me to assist?” Dad finished, guessing my intentions.
“Yes, if you’re up for it. He wasn’t in prison for anything violent. He used to steal cars, but he’s gone straight. I just worry that if left uncultivated, he’ll slip back into his old ways. If you can mentor him I truly believe he could qualify as a mature student for a university course somewhere.”
“Well, I have to admit, I’m intrigued. You know I love a good underdog story,” Dad said, a smile in his voice.
“That’s why I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey. Now listen, I just had an idea. Here’s what we’re going to do . . .”
***
My hands felt clammy the following day in class as I handed out worksheets containing a complicated algebraic equation. I told everyone it was a competition, and that whoever was first to solve it would win £10. It was my dad’s idea, of course. He could be such a big kid sometimes.
Obviously, the competition was a ruse. Stu was the only one with a chance of winning, but my dad wanted to see how he fared. If he could solve the equation, or perhaps come close, then it proved he had aptitude. After that, all I had to do was convince him to come meet my dad and attend regular tutoring sessions over the coming months.
They all nodded and off they went, while I made my way to the cafeteria to grab a coffee. I waited in line then went to find somewhere to sit. As soon as I found a free table the chair across from mine moved and Stu plopped down onto it.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’ve just been to see that Van Gogh painting, you know, the one with the sunflowers that people are always harping on about.”
I took a sip of my latte. “Oh?”
“Bit of a let-down if I’m honest. I don’t get what all the fuss is about.”
I laughed. “I always preferred Starry Starry Night myself.”
A moment of quiet passed as Stu rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “How much do think someone would get for those sunflowers anyway?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like on the black market. If someone were to steal the painting, how much would it fetch?”
I shrugged. “I’ve no idea. Millions, probably.”
Stu shook his head. “Seems like madness, to pay that much just for a bit of art to hang on your wall.”
“Well, it’s not just a bit of art, Stu. The works on display here are a part of history. They say so much about the time they were created, about the artist who painted them, and that makes them priceless.”
He eyed me seriously, chewing on his lower lip, his gaze calculating. “You ever wondered what it would be like to steal something so valuable?”
I gave him a funny look. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Really? So you’ve never imagined a scenario where you’ve robbed a bank, or I dunno, stolen diamonds or some shit, and had all your money worries just float away.”
I glanced at him, my hands cupping the coffee mug as I shifted in my seat, self-conscious. Little did he know, I had money worries far bigger than he would probably imagine. “Well, maybe, but it’s not like I’d ever act on it. You might get rich quick, but then you’d have other things to worry about. I wouldn’t want to live my life constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if I’d be caught for what I’d stolen.”
Stu’s gaze was steady on me, his elbows resting on the table as several thoughts flickered in his eyes. “I never used to worry. You know, when I stole.”
“Never?” I found that hard to believe.
“I suppose I grew desensitised. When you’ve been stealing since you’re a kid, it just becomes a way of life. It was more like a job than anything else. Me and my brothers got away with it for so long that we thought we were invincible. At least I did. Then it all fell apart and I learned I wasn’t. Far from it, in fact.”
There was an odd note of nostalgia in his voice, almost like he missed it. Not the stealing, per se, but the sense of invincibility, of thinking he’d never get caught.
“I guess you live and learn,” I said, lifting my mug and taking a long gulp.
Stu’s eyes shone with some sort of hidden knowledge and I wondered where all this was coming from. The subject matter was certainly odd.
“But that’s just it, Andrea,” he finally continued, “some of us never learn at all.”
Ten
My conversation with Stu played on my mind. His words echoed in my head, bringing with them a sense of unease. But that’s just it, Andrea, some of us never learn at all.
There were so many things the statement could mean, the most obvious being that he hadn’t learned his lesson from his time behind bars. Did that mean he was going to start breaking the law again, or that he had already?
I hated the idea of him falling back into that life and wanted to do everything in my power to keep it from happening, which was why I picked up the phone and called my dad. Would Stu accept guidance from someone else?
“Andrea, honey, to what do I owe this pleasure?” came his happy voice as he answered.
My dad was the sort of man who was forever in a good mood. My mum, too. They were pretty much the most perfect couple ever to exist in my eyes. So completely in love even after all these years together. Maybe that was why they were so endlessly cheery, because of their love for each other. It was the same as what I had with Mark, and a part of me would always mourn the fact that we hadn’t had years and years together like my parents. Sometimes I succumbed to sadness, but I tried not to fall too deep. I’d had a true and wonderful love once. Perhaps that was enough.
“Hi Dad, I actually called to ask a favour, but how’ve you been? Is Mum well?”
“We’re both as fine as can be. Now what do you need?” he replied kindly.
“Well, I’ve this student. He comes from a very disadvantaged background and is actually just out of prison. I suspect he’s dyslexic but he has a real talent for maths. It could be just that he’s above average, but I think it might be more than that. I think he could be truly exceptional with the right teacher.”
“And you’d like me to assist?” Dad finished, guessing my intentions.
“Yes, if you’re up for it. He wasn’t in prison for anything violent. He used to steal cars, but he’s gone straight. I just worry that if left uncultivated, he’ll slip back into his old ways. If you can mentor him I truly believe he could qualify as a mature student for a university course somewhere.”
“Well, I have to admit, I’m intrigued. You know I love a good underdog story,” Dad said, a smile in his voice.
“That’s why I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey. Now listen, I just had an idea. Here’s what we’re going to do . . .”
***
My hands felt clammy the following day in class as I handed out worksheets containing a complicated algebraic equation. I told everyone it was a competition, and that whoever was first to solve it would win £10. It was my dad’s idea, of course. He could be such a big kid sometimes.
Obviously, the competition was a ruse. Stu was the only one with a chance of winning, but my dad wanted to see how he fared. If he could solve the equation, or perhaps come close, then it proved he had aptitude. After that, all I had to do was convince him to come meet my dad and attend regular tutoring sessions over the coming months.
