Distractions of a Beautiful Stranger

The beautiful sweeping music escaping from the Grand piano thrilled Henry Miller. How he loved the music of Chopin. The tunes of the great pianist were the main reason for his frequent stays at the Mayfair Hotel, not that he needed accommodation, as his mansion was only a couple of miles away.

Henry Miller was a self-made multi-millionaire, but all the money in the world could not buy this man happiness. Despite his popularity and many friends Henry craved love, not passion and sex but real old fashioned love. He had married twice, both times ending in divorce. Henry liked the good things in life, classical music, theatre and a good brandy. His ex-wives craved the fast life, casinos, parties, and any social event on the calendar where they could exhibit themselves for the greedy tabloids.

All Henry wanted was privacy; that and someone to love him, really love him. He clapped his hands wildly, cigar clenched between his teeth. The pianist, a short red-faced man bowed before scampering away, his work for the evening complete.
“Well Henry, what do you make of the new pianist?” Asked a military looking gentleman with a handlebar moustache.

“Splendid James, I never thought anyone could replace old Hanley, but I must admit I was impressed.”

“Good, I thought you’d like him. Come on through to the bar old chap and I’ll buy you a drink.”

Everyone in the Grand piano room was similarly attired in tuxedos. Another thing they all had in common was they were all extremely wealthy.

The ornate architecture of the Mayfair never failed to impress Henry. The magnificent crystal chandeliers, the marble pillars and the sweeping spiral staircase reminded him of the umpteen ballrooms he had frequented over the years.

Henry was not a handsome man; in fact some would say he was downright ugly. He was fifty-three years of age and realised time had passed him by in his quest to find the elusive bride. His distinguished silver hair and tall stature were negated by his protruding teeth. His ex-wives had nagged him time and time again to get them attended to, hell he had enough money, but Henry believed if God intended him to look like this then so be it.

The two men sat in the comfy armchairs and swilled their brandies around their large glasses exchanging old stories from another century.

Henry noticed her first, a vision in a long flowing emerald-green dress and matching hat. She climbed onto a barstool and the barman lit her cigarette. She swiveled on her stool to face the two admirers and smiled, the mysterious enchantress oozed class. She was approximately thirty-years of age, her eyes were as blue as the Pacific Ocean, her teeth perfect like flawless pearls, her nose small and slightly upturned. She looked so lost sat at the bar alone, like a misguided child aspiring to find her way home.

“George, would you kindly ask the young lady if she’d care to join us?”

The waiter nodded and whispered into the ear of the beautiful stranger.
She turned her head, and raised her cocktail glass to the pair, before gliding over to them, so graceful was her walk.
“Hell Henry you old fox, she’s actually coming over.”

“Yes she is isn’t she?”

The two love-smitten men rose to greet the woman.
“Good evening, I am Henry and my friend here is Thomas. I hope you don’t think I’m being too forward, you looked so lonely.”

“No not at all, and you’re right I am lonely. My name is Rachel.”

Her voice was husky in a feminine sort of way.
“What can I get you to drink Rachel?”

“Oh thank you, I’ll have another Margarita please. If you’ll excuse me for a moment I’ll just powder my nose.”

The two men rose, Henry clicked his fingers at the waiter.
“Christ Henry, she’s a vision, a lady with class.”

“She is isn’t she Thomas? Look, I wonder if you’d do me a favour?”

“You want me to go, is that it?”

“Well Thomas, you are married.”

“You’re old enough to be her father you old minx you.”

“Some ladies prefer older men.”

“Three brandies.”

“What?”

“Three brandies next time we meet and I’ll go.”

“Thomas, you’re one of the richest men in the country and you still resort to extortion.”

“That’s why I’m rich. Have we a deal?”

“You’re on, now make yourself scarce.”

“Good luck, you’ll need it.”

She returned from the ladies room and sat close to Henry, before stirring her cocktail.
“Where is your friend?”

“Oh, he had to retire early. He has a business meeting in the morning. I’ve never seen you in the Mayfair before.”

“Its my first time.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes, are you?”

“Yes. Tell me Rachel, what is a beautiful girl like you doing in a hotel alone?”

“What do you think? Go on, guess.”

“Well I could suggest you’re a high-class prostitute but I’m won‘t. You have too much elegance and class for such a woman. My guess would be that you were to meet someone and he never turned up. He would of course have to be a foolish man to miss such an appointment.”

“Oh Henry, you’re so sweet. You’re wrong on both counts. I’m not staying at the hotel. I sort of sneaked in. I needed a drink desperately and this was the nearest watering hole.”

“I see sadness in your eyes Rachel.”

She looked away, her eyes glazed. “I’ve done a terrible thing Henry.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I lost my father a couple of months ago. Recently I’ve been going through such a frightful time. My husband left me last Christmas and my life is a mess. You see I ran into financial difficulties. All my money was tied up in stocks and shares and as you probably already know the market crashed. My immediate reaction was to sell the house, but then I did something awful. I sold my father’s painting.”

“Was that so bad?”

“As you know the market recovered and I should have felt elated but I didn‘t. My father’s painting had been in the family for years. I feel such guilt and shame.”

“How much did you get for the painting?”

“Five thousand pounds. I have since discovered it’s worth a lot more. The bastard I sold it to, a private dealer will not consider selling it to me. He is auctioning it at Sotheby's at the weekend.”

“Will you be bidding for the painting Rachel?”

“I have raised ten thousand pounds, mostly borrowed from friends. I don’t think it’ll be enough.”

“How much exactly is the painting worth?”

“At least double that. I will bid in hope that the competition is weak.” Rachel checked her watch and finished her cocktail. “Its been good talking to you Henry, I have to go.”

“So soon. Look, can I see you again?”

“I don’t think so. You’re charming but I don’t want to drag you into my dismal world.”

“Nonsense, I’d be honoured if you’d agree to meet me again. Tomorrow evening perhaps.”

“Are you sure you want to?”

“I’ve never been so sure in my life. Do you need a lift home?”

“I’ll take a cab thanks all the same.”

“Nonsense, its pouring down outside. My chauffeur will drop you off. Where do you live Rachel?”

“Belgravia.”

“Splendid.”

The limousine moved slowly through the centre of London. Henry had informed his trusty chauffeur not to be in such a hurry.
“Tell me Henry, what do you do for a living?”

“What do I do? Lets just say I also dabble in stocks and shares as well as property.”

“Where do you live?”

“I have a mansion in Kensington.”

“A mansion, really?”

“Really. It’s such a large place for one man.”

“You’re not married then?”

“I was, twice.”

“Turn down here driver. This house here, thank you.”

They pulled up outside a large Victorian establishment.
“I’m impressed Rachel, it would have been a crime to sell such a magnificent house.”

“If only you knew how close I was to selling it.” She leant over and kissed him on the cheek.

“I’ll pick you up at seven 'o'clock this evening. Okay?”

She nodded and turned away.
Henry touched his cheek as the driver pulled away.

All the next day Henry had butterflies in his stomach. He had never felt as excited in a long time. His butler assisted him as he dressed, tying his bow tie, which he always had difficulties with.
“You look marvellous Mr Miller.”

“Thank you Roger but you don’t have to lie to me. I know what I am.” He picked up the huge bouquet of flowers and climbed into his limousine. She was waiting outside her house as they pulled up close to the kerb. Her dress matched the colour of her eyes, her hair now uncovered was blonde, something he never noticed before. It was elegantly tied in a bun, highlighting the natural beauty of her bronzed face. He kissed her on the cheek and she climbed in besides him.
“You look beautiful Rachel.”

“Well thank you Henry, you’re rather dapper yourself. Are those for me?”

“They are, I hope you like them.”

“Like them? They’re beautiful Henry.”

“I do hope you’re hungry?”

“Absolutely famished.”

“Good, I know a quiet restaurant in Knightsbridge.”

They dined by candlelight, a violinist playing soothing music. Rachel had indeed a hearty appetite; Henry had never seen a woman eat with so much purpose. She even had room for her strawberry dessert.
“That was lovely Henry.”

“I like a woman with an appetite.”

“And I like a man who knows how to treat a lady.”

“Well I haven’t had much practise lately.”

“I’ve never enjoyed myself so much as tonight Henry, thank you.”

“No dear, it should be me who is thanking you.”

She reached for his hands and their fingers entwined as the violinist serenaded them. They finished two bottles of the finest champagne.
Henry, you’re the only man I’ve been with who hasn’t asked me to sleep with him.”

“I’m sorry, should I have?”

Again she kissed him on the cheek. “You’re so sweet Henry, a real gentleman.”

“Rachel, I’ve been thinking about you’re father’s painting. Let me buy it back for you.”

“Certainly not, I’ll not hear of it.”

“But I’m a very wealthy man.”

“I want to hear no more on the subject Henry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’ll buy the painting back myself. You must understand, its something I’ve got to do myself.”

“Well will you allow me to escort you to Sotheby's?”

“On one condition, you do not interfere?”

“Its a deal.”

Saturday morning and the brisk November wind howled loudly, pushing against the limousine door as if to deter them from the auction. Henry and Rachel were greeted at the door as he ran a comb through his silver thinning hair. The stillness of the auction room was a comfort away from the coldness of the streets of London. Henry’s eyes browsed through the strange faces, expecting to see a familiar face or two.

They took their seats towards the rear of the room and leafed through the programme until they came to page five. The portrait in question was of a little boy sitting by a river, fishing. Rachel smiled nervously as the time for the lot drew closer.
“How many of these people are art dealers Rachel?”

“I haven’t a clue Henry; I know nothing about art.”

“And now we turn to this wonderful painting entitled The River. It was painted by an unknown artist but the quality of the work alone warrants it as a piece that would grace any collection. The bidding will start at five thousand pounds. Do I hear five thousand?”

Rachel raised her hand and a tall dark foreign looking man sitting close to the front raised his newspaper.
“Six thousand pounds, do we hear six thousand five hundred?”

An elderly woman joined the bidding much to the disappointment of Rachel. The bidding had reached nine thousand pounds when Rachel played her final card.
“Nine thousand nine hundred and fifty from the lady at the back. Do we have any more bids?”

“Ten thousand to the lady in black. Ten thousand going once.”

Eleven thousand to the gentleman at the front. Twelve thousand to the lady in black.”
Henry looked across at Rachel; tears were streaming down her eyes as her bidding had ceased.

“Take me home Henry please.”

“Thirteen thousand,” screamed Henry.

“What are you doing? I told you not to get involved.”

“This is loose change to me Rachel, consider it a gift.”

“Fourteen thousand,” to the gentleman at the front.

“Fifteen thousand, do we have any more bids?”

The old lady shook her head in dejection.
“Sixteen thousand.”

Henry nodded his head. “Seventeen thousand.”
“Stop it Henry. This is absurd.”

“Who is the man I’m bidding against? He seems to want the painting badly?”
Eighteen thousand pounds.”

Henry nodded. “Nineteen thousand.”

“Please Henry, no more. The painting is not worth that much.”
“He seems to think so.”

“Twenty thousand. We have twenty thousand pounds from the gentleman at the front.”

“Twenty five thousand pounds,” yelled Henry, the crowd mumbling between themselves, attempting to see who the bidder was.

“This is crazy Henry. If you’re trying to impress me you’re not.”

“Thirty thousand pounds,” was the cry from the front.

“Thirty five thousand.”

“Forty thousand.”

“I don’t believe I’m hearing this Henry. No more please.”

By now this was turning into a kind of duel between the two, Henry would not be beaten. He had his vast wealth to back him up.
“Fifty thousand pounds!”

The roars echoed around the room. The foreign looking man turned towards Henry and shook his head in resignation.
“Going, going, gone! To the gentleman at the rear.”

Henry punched the air in delight, he felt like a gladiator having made his first kill in the great arena of Rome. He put an arm around Rachel and kissed her cheek as she squirmed away from him.

“I did it for you Rachel, be happy.”

“And now I’m supposed to be in your debt forever am I.”

“Its not like that Rachel, I love you.”

“Oh Henry, you hardly know me.”

“I’ve never felt like this ever before Rachel. My heart is beating twice as fast, I’m like a teenager all over again. Please, accept my gift.”

She looked into his eyes and smiled. She reached for him and kissed him on the lips, the cheers from the spectators filling the auction room.

“Come on Rachel. Lets go and view your painting.”

It didn’t look anything special thought Henry, certainly not fifty thousand pounds worth.
“Where do you want the painting delivered to sir?” Asked the assistant as Henry wrote out his cheque.

“What is you’re address Rachel?”

“No Henry, you’re address. Or should I say our address?”

“You mean...”

“Yes, I’ll move in with you and sell my house. That’s if you want me to of course?”

“Of course I want you to darling, but you don’t have to sell your house.”
“Whatever you say.”

Henry had to admit, the painting was actually growing on him. He stood admiring it hanging above his roaring fire, a glass of brandy in his hand. Rachel joined him, drying her blonde locks with a towel. She even managed to look elegant in his dressing gown.
“Isn’t it beautiful Henry?”

“You’re father has wonderful taste Rachel. Where did he acquire it?”

“I don’t remember, it’s been in the family as long as I can remember.”

“When are you moving your things in Rachel? You’ve been here almost a week now.”

“I’ll do it first thing in the morning. I must say Henry, its true what they say about older men in the sack.”

“In the sack?”

“In bed.”

“And what do they say dear?”

“Well put it this way, I don’t think I’ll ever leave you for a younger man.”
“I should think not.”

“I’ve never been so happy in my life Henry; I’m such a lucky girl.”

“I’m happy you should feel this way, because there’s something I want to ask you. Will you marry me?”

“Oh Henry, do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it.”

“Give me some time to think it over. I do love you but we know so little about one another.”

“I know everything I want to know about you.”

“When I return from my home tomorrow, you will have your answer.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

It was two' o'clock in the afternoon and Henry waited eagerly for Rachel’s return. He paced up and down the room redialling her mobile phone number yet again. His impatience got the better of him as he ordered his driver to get the limousine ready. Henry peered through the window as they parked outside Rachel’s house in Belgravia.
“Wait here Charles.”

He pulled his scarf tight around his neck to ward off the coldness before rapping on the door loudly. He waited in anticipation as the door opened.
“Yes, can I help you?”

A bald-headed middle-aged man faced him.
“Who are you?”

“I may ask you the same question.”

“Where is Rachel?”

“Rachel?”

“Yes, Rachel Saunders, she lives here.”

“I assure you she does not sir.”

“There must be some mistake.”

“It appears so doesn’t it?”

“Who lives next door?”

“A magistrate and a doctor are my neighbours.”

“You must have seen her, a blonde girl.”

“I’m afraid not, now if you’ll excuse me.”

Henry walked slowly back to the limousine, his shoulders slouched. A million thoughts going through his mind, none of them good.
“Where to now sir?”

“Wait Charles, let me think.”

He sat for five minutes, his head resting in his hands.
“To Sotheby’s Charles.”

“As you insist sir.”

He walked briskly into the auction rooms and demanded to see the manager. He was shown to an office where he was introduced to a young man.
“Hello, I’m Mr Burton the manager, what can I do for you sir?”

“Five days ago, I purchased a painting from here. I would like to know who was the owner of the painting?”

“I’m sorry sir, it is most irregular. We like to keep our clients confidential.”

“I purchased the painting for fifty thousand pounds man.”

“Ah yes, The River, I remember now.”

“Well?”

“Look, all I can tell you was that it was a pretty looking young woman.”

“Blonde?”

“No, in fact she had black hair. I’m telling you more than I ought to now. If there have been any irregularities you should contact the police.”

No, that won’t be necessary.”

The couple released their seat belts as the jet reached the cruising altitude. The dark man kissed the blonde girl on the lips and ordered champagne.
“Acapulco here we come,” said the man.

“It was so easy Carlos. The old fool actually thought I fell in love with him, can you Adam and Eve it?”

“You ought to have been an actress Susan.”

“You didn’t do too bad yourself. I must admit, I was a bit worried when he paused after you went to forty thousand pounds.”

“Not as worried as I was. How come you were so sure he’d bid?”

“Call it a woman’s intuition. I had him eating out of my hand.”

“That’s what I call a profit. If the old geezer in the antique shop knew how much that old painting went for he’d have a heart attack.”

“That was one hundred pounds well spent.”

“I reckon the money will last us three months and then it should be safe to return and look for our next millionaire Susan.”

“To think that ugly bastard could think that I could fancy him. I deserved an Oscar for my performance in the bedroom. Ah, ah, yes, yes, yes, baby!”
They giggled in unison, only stopping to sip their champagne.

Three weeks passed and the couple were sunning themselves around the pool. They were ignorant of the waiter who towered above them.
“Miss Morgan?”

Susan cupped her eyes from the sun. “Yes.”

“There’s a long distance phone call for you from London.”

“There must be a mistake, nobody knows I’m here.”

“No mistake, will you take the call?”

Carlos had a worried look on his face as he shrugged his shoulders.
“Okay, give me a moment.”

The blonde beauty clad in a blue bikini attracted admiring glances from the male sun worshippers.
“Hello, who is it?”

“Rachel, or is it Carol? Surely you recognise the voice.”

“How did you find me?”

“Rachel, I’m a multi-millionaire, it wasn’t difficult. I hired the best private detectives in London.”

“I’m sorry Henry; I got cold feet and couldn’t go through with the marriage.”

“Stop it! You know what this is about. How many more men have you duped?”

“Get to the point, what do you want? Your money is almost spent.”

“Really, no I actually wanted to thank you.”

“What?”

“Do you think I got where I was today without being clever and ruthless?”

“What the fuck are you talking about old man?”

“I’ve met many gold diggers in my time. I took advantage of some of them and discarded them before they could fleece me.”

“So you knew all along?”

“No, I didn’t. Let’s say I wanted to believe that you loved me. Before we went to Sotheby’s, I had your painting checked out. I couldn’t help but be inquisitive. I have many friends in the art world.”

“So you knew it was worthless?”

“On the contrary. It’s a missing masterpiece painted in the eighteenth century by Gilkes.”

“Gilkes?”

“Yes, he was one of the most underestimated artists of his time. It appears four of his paintings were missing and three of them turned up years later. They averaged one million, two hundred thousand pounds each. It appears I have the fourth.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I? Oh of course, you can’t have read yesterday’s tabloids. I knew how much the painting was worth when I bid for it. Of course if you were genuine then I was going to give you the profits from the painting. By the way Rachel, you were a great fuck.”

He put down the phone and she ran to the poolside.
“Can I borrow your newspaper?” She asked an English couple.
She sat besides Carlos, her mouth agape.

“What is it Susan?”
The following scream was deafening.