Heads You Win

“Death, divorce, and taxes?”

The old man smiled. “You’re not in the art world, by any chance?”

“I work as a conservator for the Turner Collection.”

“Ah, then please give my regards to Nicholas Serota,” he said, handing her his card.

Sasha walked across to join them. “Dare I ask the price of the painting in the window?”

“The Rothko?” said Mr. Rosenthal, turning to face his customer. “Alex, I had no idea you were in town. But you must know that your wife has already purchased the painting for the collection.”

“My wife has already bought it?”

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“Not on a Member of Parliament’s salary, she didn’t.”

Rosenthal adjusted his glasses, took a closer look at the customer, and said, “I do apologize. I should have realized my mistake the moment you spoke.”

“You said ‘the collection,’” said Charlie.

“Yes, the Lowell Collection in Boston.”

“Now that’s a collection I’ve always wanted to see,” said Charlie, “but I understood that it was locked up in a bank vault.”

“Not any longer,” said Rosenthal. “The paintings were all returned to their original home in Boston some time ago. I’d be happy to arrange a private view for you, madam. The curator of the collection used to work here, and I know she’d enjoy meeting you.”

“I’m afraid we’re booked on a flight back to London later this evening,” said Charlie.

“What a pity. Next time, perhaps,” said Rosenthal, giving them both a slight bow.

“Strange,” said Charlie once they were back on Lexington. “He obviously mistook you for someone else.”

“And someone who could afford a Rothko.”

“Come on, we’d better get moving if we’re going to make it to JFK by five,” said Charlie. She took one last look at the painting in the window. “Can you imagine what it must be like to own a Rothko?”

* * *

“I know, I know,” said Sasha. “If God had meant us to fly, he would have given us wings.”

“Don’t mock,” said Charlie. “This plane is going far too fast.”

“It was built to travel at this speed. So just sit back, relax, and enjoy your champagne.”

“But the whole plane is shuddering. Can’t you feel it?”

“That will stop the moment we break the sound barrier, and then it will feel just like any other aircraft, except you’ll be traveling at over a thousand miles per hour.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” said Charlie, closing her eyes.

“And don’t go to sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Because this will be the first and last time you’ll ever travel on Concorde.”

“Unless you become Prime Minister.”