44 Scotland Street - Alexander McCall Smith [132]
At the mention of the name, Matthew sat up and looked round at the newcomer. He saw a dark-haired man somewhere in his mid-thirties, with a strong face and with eyes that seemed to be amused by something.
Big Lou caught Matthew’s eye. “This is Guy Peploe,” she 276
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said, reaching for a cup from her counter. “Yes! This is Mr Peploe himself!”
Matthew looked confused. “Peploe?” he said weakly. Big Lou laughed. “I met Mr Peploe a few days ago. He’s from the Scottish Gallery over the road. He said that they usually have their own coffee in the gallery, but that he would pop in and try mine. So here he is!”
“I see,” said Matthew. He looked at Pat for reassurance. This was dangerous.
“And I told him about your painting,” went on Big Lou. “And he said that of course he would look at it for you. He said you shouldn’t be shy. He’s always looking at paintings for people. And if it’s a Peploe, he’ll know. He’s Samuel Peploe’s grandson, you see.”
“Oh,” said Matthew weakly. “I haven’t got it with me. Sorry.”
“But you brought it in this morning,” said Pat. “I saw it. I’ll go and fetch it.”
Guy Peploe smiled politely. “I’d be very happy to take a look,”
he said. “I’m very interested.”
It was difficult for Matthew to do anything but agree. So Pat went back across the road to fetch the Peploe?, leaving Matthew sitting awkwardly under the gaze of Guy Peploe, who seemed to be quietly summing him up.
“I think I was at school with you,” mused Guy Peploe. “You were much younger than I was, but I think I remember you.”
“No,” said Matthew. “Somebody else.”
96. Mr Peploe Sees Something Interesting
Pat came back with the Peploe? under her arm. On entering Big Lou’s coffee bar, she saw that Guy Peploe was now sitting opposite Matthew, engaged in conversation. She slipped into the booth opposite Guy Peploe and placed the wrapped painting on the table.
Matthew glanced at her, almost reproachfully. “I don’t think Mr Peploe Sees Something Interesting
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that it’s a real Peploe,” he said. “I’ve never thought that, actually. It’s Pat who said it was.”
Pat felt irritated that he should seek to cover his embarrassment by blaming her, but she said nothing. Guy Peploe was staring at the wrapping. “We’ll see,” he said.
“I take the view that the best way of authenticating a painting is to look at it. Wouldn’t you agree? It’s rather difficult to say anything unless you’ve got the painting in front of you.”
Matthew laughed nervously. “Yes, I find it very difficult when people phone me up and describe a painting that they have. They expect me to be able to value it over the phone.”
“People are funny,” said Guy Peploe. “But you can never turn down an opportunity to look at something. You never know. You remember that Cadell that turned up in a charity shop a few years ago. Remember that?”
“Yes,” said Matthew, who did not remember.
“So perhaps we should take a look at this one,” said Guy Peploe patiently. “Shall I unwrap it?”
Matthew reached for the painting. “I’ll do it,” he said. He pulled off the sealing tape and slowly unfolded the wrapping paper. Pat watched him, noticing the slight trembling of his hands. It was, for her, a moment of intense human pity. We are all vulnerable and afraid, she thought – in our different ways.
Matthew removed the last of the wrapping paper and silently handed the picture over to Guy Peploe. Then he glanced at Pat, and lowered his eyes. At the counter, Big Lou stood quite still, her cloth in her hand, her gaze fixed on the Peploe? and Peploe.
Guy Peploe looked at the painting. He held it away from himself for a few moments, narrowing his eyes. Then he turned it round and looked at the back of the canvas. Then he laid it down on the table.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m a Peploe – this isn’t.”
Matthew and Pat had both been holding their breath; now they exhaled together, and it seemed to Pat as if Matthew would continue to lose air until he deflated completely, leaving just 278
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his skin, like an empty balloon. Instinctively she reached