Chapter 17
I had been to Aunt Rosa’s gallery before, but not to an opening. It thronged with the same sort of people that came to her parties: rich and smart and clad mostly in designer black, with a few eccentrics dotted about providing a splash of colour and personality. An apricot turban here, a magenta cravat there, and someone with half a dozen silk scarves floating about her.
Aunt Rosa was talking with the scarf woman when we arrived. "Eloise and David, how lovely you could come. Freda, do you know David Astwell?"
Everyone knew of him, of course, unless they’d been on an Arctic expedition for the past decade. I could tell Freda hadn’t been introduced to him before, because she had that look on her face that I was starting to recognise. You can see someone’s mental process when the
