Page 41 of Days You Were Mine

‘Some days I do quite like it. Some days I need it.’

He passes me the menu.

‘Have whatever you like. I come here a lot, I know this menu inside out.’

It’s a masterclass just watching him talk the waiter through our choices – a tuna sashimi salad and rock shrimp tempura with ponzu sauce first, then blackened cod and grilled beef teriyaki, followed by a selection of sashimi and sushi.

‘We’ll have a carafe of sake served cold, please.’

The hallmarks of a great lunch are here and I should be relaxed, but instead I’m counting down to the serious conversation I know is coming. And sure enough, the moment the first cup of sake is poured, Rick says, ‘Right, Luke, I’m just going to come straight out with it. I don’t think Alice should be working as your nanny.’

‘But she loves—’ I say and Rick holds up a hand.

‘Hear me out. I haven’t said this to Alice because I know it would break her heart. As you say, she adores Samuel, she loves looking after him. But you’ve got this whole thing back to front. It’s you and her who need to be spending time together. And her working for you puts the relationship on an awkwardfooting, doesn’t it? Like what happened yesterday. I can’t really believe either of you thought it was a good idea.’

‘So you’re saying we should find a new au pair? We should ask Alice to leave?’

‘I felt like I should tell you my concerns. The whole thing makes me uncomfortable. You see, there’s a lot about Alice you don’t know. She’s fragile. After she lost you, she wasn’t very well. Something like yesterday, when she was having to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, like you were actually ashamed of her, could push her over the edge.’

‘God, the opposite is true. I’m proud of Alice. I think she’s amazing. I’m so happy she’s my mother.’

Here Rick smiles, a full beam of a smile; he adores her, that much is clear. If I didn’t know differently, I’d think he was in love with her.

Our sashimi salad arrives – a whole mound of raw tuna slices on a bed of rocket, covered in some kind of dressing – and Rick says, ‘Let’s pick this up later. Nothing should spoil your tuna. Death row meal for me.’

The rock shrimp tempura, arriving next, is outrageously good: hot, crunchy mouthfuls of prawn dipped into a sauce I’d really like to eat by the spoonful. Rick constantly refills our glasses and orders more sake with the merest hand signal, one finger raised to a waiter who always happens to be looking. (This guy is so cool, my feelings towards him are growing ever more complex. Never mind that he’s my father; like Ben, I might actually want tobehim.)

Over lunch he talks about some of the commissions he is working on. A nude portrait of a pregnant film star: ‘Not a fluffed-up Demi Moore,’ he says. ‘She’s very brave and self-confident, this woman; she’s allowed me to draw her slumped back in a chair, legs apart, breasts drooping. Not a flatteringportrait in the traditional sense, but to me very feminine and rather wonderful. And she loves it.’

There’s a member of the royal family sitting for him – he won’t say who – where again he was asked to do something mould-breaking.

‘People who come to me tend to know about art. They are looking for something that will interest them and they think I can deliver it,’ he says, without a note of arrogance, just the self-belief that must come with years of acclaim. ‘When the papers get hold of this particular painting, they will go ballistic. I can hardly wait.’

We talk about Graham Sutherland’s portrait of Churchill, the one he hated.

‘That was a groundbreaking portrait in many ways. Presenting such a famous man warts and all. Of course, others before him had done that – Rembrandt’s commitment to naturalism was considered merciless at the time. But it was unusual for someone so famous to have a portrait without all those conciliatory nips and tucks.’

Fuelled by sake and beautiful food, our mood lightens throughout lunch.

I tell Rick about a recent meeting Hannah had with Jay Jopling, sharing the most salacious details, and he retaliates with gossip about Lucian Freud.

‘He was a guest lecturer when we were at the Slade; only interested in the girls, and Alice in particular. She was – still is, I think – so extraordinarily beautiful, but she wore it carelessly. She had no idea how good-looking she was and I think that made men want her even more. It still breaks my heart what happened to her. She had everything – and then suddenly nothing.’

‘I don’t know anything about that time. Alice never wants to talk about it.’

‘She was so talented. The only one in our year to have a show, which was unheard of for an undergrad. She would have made it as an artist, definitely.’

‘But why couldn’t she go back to it? After me?’

‘She was traumatised. She shut down inside and it took her years to be able to function again. And she lost her character, her spark; it never came back. That must sound dramatic to you, but that’s how she was. And she never talks about that time now, not even to me. Because I don’t think she can say the actual words.’

I notice that Rick has tears in his eyes as he tells me this; I feel a little like crying myself.

‘But that’s exactly why Hannah and I wanted her looking after Samuel. Because of the way she lost me. We could tell it wrecked her life.’

‘One baby can’t make up for another. You know that really, don’t you?’

‘It’s more that we wanted Alice to become part of our family. Only it’s not really working. I feel childish saying this, but I’m jealous of the way Alice and Samuel have bonded. I feel a bit left out.’

---