Page 68 of Meet Me in Berlin

I set the timer, press the shutter and position the camera. Casey wraps her arms around my waist, pushes her nose against my face and releases a melty sigh. I instinctively lean my head towards her.

The camera clicks, and I look at the display. ‘Oh,’ I breathe, because the image is everything – brimming with the type of intimacy that only exists between kindred souls. ‘I love it.’

Casey rests her chin on my shoulder and peers at the image. ‘Mmm,’ she says, with an unmistakable dreaminess. ‘It’s like Sappho and Erinna.’

I lift a brow. ‘Friends of yours?’

She laughs. ‘Kind of. It’s one of my favourite paintings.’

‘I don’t know it. I remember Italia und Germania, but a lot of the other art you talked about was lost on me.’

‘I didn’t know about the Sappho and Erinna painting when we met,’ Casey says. ‘I discovered it in my final year at university and spent a lot of time staring at it online. Then the Tate acquired it and I got to see the real thing.’ She faces me, eyes squinting in the sun. ‘It brought us alive in my head again. Helped me kind of process things.’

My heart lifts, and it feels so light and free that it could carry me away. ‘You’re a true romantic.’

She lifts a shoulder. ‘The Berlin air…’

I steal a kiss. ‘You’ve used that excuse with me before, but I think it’s you.’

‘Or maybe it’s the Holly effect.’ She smiles and stretches out, resting her head in her palm.

‘Mmm, maybe.’ I stretch out beside her. ‘You really have to work tomorrow? On a Sunday?’

‘I don’t have to, but I told Felix I’d be there. The installers messed up, so they’ve agreed to hang the art tomorrow instead, plus we’ve still got a bit to do. You should totally come to the opening on Tuesday night, though.’

A buzz of excitement ripples through me. ‘Really? You’d want that?’

‘I’d love you to. It’s a contemporary exhibition of local queer artists – Queer Perspectives. It’ll be on for a few weeks but opening night is always good.’

‘I won’t be in your way or anything?’

She shakes her head. ‘Not at all. I’ll have to chat to some artists and potential buyers but not all night.’

I’m almost lightheaded with the idea of it. ‘Okay. It’s a date.’

She smiles. ‘Yeah. I s’pose it is.’

I roll on my back and tuck my hands under my head. ‘Why contemporary?’

‘The exhibition?’

‘No, your job. When we met you loved historical art and wanted to work in that area. It’s all you talked about.’

She rolls onto her back too. ‘I still like it. I worked in an art museum for a few years after I graduated, but I wanted to go higher and didn’t feel like management took me seriously. It might be better now, but then it was a world filled mainly with old white people, and I think they struggled with a young biracial lesbian, especially one who did her master’s in the history of Black art and tried to bring that into their gallery. They weren’t all overtly rude or racist, and some colleagues supported me, but it’s that inherent bias that’s ingrained in so many people – the racist, homophobic, misogynist thing, you know? And class – I think Britain has a real issue with class. I just open my mouth and people make assumptions. I felt that me as the whole package made them uncomfortable, and I couldn’t be bothered educating them. Besides, all the artists were dead. So I went contemporary and it’s much more diverse – the staff, the art and the artists, who are mostly alive. Although, every now and then one will come along who’s so difficult I long for the days of the dead ones.’

I’m sitting up now – I have been since halfway through what she was saying. ‘That’s bullshit that you couldn’t progress in that environment because of who you are.’

‘It is, and I was angry about it back then, a lot more than I am now. But it’s everywhere, innit? The world over. It must be like that in Australia, too?’

I nod. ‘Class not as much, but the other three … yes, to varying degrees.’

‘Anyway, it’s my gain, because I love the gallery I’m at now. Josanne – that’s my boss – is brilliant. She’s got such a great vision and she’s the first Black, female boss I’ve had. Her view is that it’s pointless trying to change what exists; instead, create a new reality you want to be part of and eventually old orders in the art world will change. I like being part of that with her and the rest of our staff, including the gallery here.’

‘That must be a good feeling, finding the right fit in an area you’re passionate about,’ I say.

‘Didn’t you like your job? Before you got the boot, I mean,’ Casey says with a cheeky grin.

I poke her in the ribs. ‘Redundancy. I did. I liked working on different projects and seeing them implemented across the campuses and in the community. I’ll probably look for the same type of work when I get around to it.’

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