Short Story Preview: Faking It
It was Alec who brought up the subject of the painting.
‘Should fetch a tidy sum at auction, old George should,’ he said.
‘Must we discuss this now? You know how I feel about it,’ said Wanda, lighting up.
‘I wish you hadn’t Daddy,’ chipped in Miranda, stirring her coffee, ‘Not that one. We grew up with the old boy following us round the room with that “I know what you’re up to” look.’
‘Should be glad to be rid of it then,’ retorted Alec. ‘We need the cash, dear girl. The upkeep of this place is getting me down. Look at my shoes. No soles left.’
He raised his feet to show very sizeable holes in his country brogues.
Wanda blew a steady stream of smoke across the drawing room.
‘You know that I’d give you the cash, if you’d only say. But you’re too damned stubborn. That portrait’s been in your family for yonks. I’m really quite peeved about it and you never asked me, your wife, just took it as read that you could sell it.’
‘But Wanda, old duck. It was my great uncle not yours.’
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