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It occurred to her that she might lose the job at the gallery, and while she would be able to find something else, there was the ignominy of dismissal.

190

The Turning to Dust of Human Beauty

Telling Domenica helped.

“It’s not the end of the world,” she said, when Pat had finished.

“You should be able to get it back. After all, these people who won it have no right to keep it. It was not Bruce’s to give in the first place, and that means that they can’t acquire any right to it. It’s that simple.”

This had encouraged Pat, although doubts remained. “Are you absolutely sure about that?”

“Of course,” said Domenica. “Bruce effectively stole it from you. It’s stolen property. And stolen property is stolen property.”

Pat wiped at her eyes. “I feel so stupid,” she said. “Coming in here and burdening you with all this.”

Domenica reached out and laid a hand on her forearm. “You shouldn’t feel that. I’m very happy to help. And anyway, we all feel weak and sniffly from time to time.” She paused. “Of course, there is something else, isn’t there?”

Pat looked at her. Domenica could tell, she knew, but she was not at all sure if she wanted to speak about that. Domenica smiled. “He’s got under your skin, hasn’t he?”

Pat did not answer. She stared down at the floor. She was thinking of her anger, her irritation with Bruce, but then the image came back to her of him standing there before the window, his shirt off. She looked up. Domenica was watching her.

“I thought that it might happen,” said Domenica. “I thought that it might happen in spite of everything. If one puts two people together and one of them is a young man like that, well . . .”

“I don’t like him,” said Pat. “You should hear what he says.”

“Oh, I know what Bruce is like,” said Domenica. “Remember that I’ve been his neighbour for some time. I know perfectly well what he’s like.”

“Well, why has this . . . why has this happened?”

Domenica sighed. “It’s happened for a very simple reason,”

she said. “It’s a matter of human reaction to the beautiful. It’s a matter of aesthetics.”

“I feel this way about Bruce because he’s . . .” It was difficult for her to say it, but the word was there in the air between them.

“Precisely,” said Domenica. “And that’s nothing new, is it?

The Turning to Dust of Human Beauty

191

That’s how people react to beauty, in a person or an object. We become intoxicated with it. We want to be with it. We want to possess it. And when that happens, we shouldn’t be the least bit surprised, although we often are.

“It’s an age-old issue,” she went on. “Our reaction to the beautiful occurs in the face of every single one of our intellectual pretensions. We may be very well aware that the call of beauty is a siren-call, but that doesn’t stop it from arresting us, seizing us, rendering us helpless. A soul-beguiling face will make anybody stop in their tracks, in spite of themselves.”

Pat listened in silence. Domenica was right, of course. Had Bruce not looked the way he looked, then she would have been either indifferent to him or actively hostile. He had done enough to earn her distaste, if not her enmity, with his condescension and his assumptions, and if it had not been for this aesthetic reaction, as Domenica called it, he would have been unable to affect her in this way. But the reality was that he had, and even now she cherished that moment of bizarre shared intimacy in his room, when he had removed his shirt and she had looked upon him.

“So,” said Domenica briskly. “Do you want my advice? Or my sympathy? Which is it to be?”

Pat thought for a moment. She had not expected these alternatives. She had expected, at the most, that Domenica would listen sympathetically and make a few general remarks, instead of which she had provided what seemed to be a complete diagnosis and was now offering something more.

“Your advice, I suppose.” She realised sounded grudging, which was not her intention, but her tone seemed not to disconcert Domenica.

“Well,” said