Page 30 of The Uprising
‘Twenty million to buy it, but that’s without any renovations and running costs.’
Cara’s eyes widened.
‘I thought about going back in time to buy shares,’ he said.
‘I love that idea.’
‘Me too,’ he said, raising an eyebrow. ‘But then I realised it’s impossible.’
‘Damn it. How come?’ she asked.
‘How would we orchestrate the timing when we can’t travel on demand?’ said George.
Cara sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘I forgot about that. What a shame—it would be so amazing to invest in the stock market knowing we couldn’t lose.’
‘I know, but I came up with something else.’
She looked at him expectantly, as she wrapped a tendril of hair around her finger. ‘Go on.’
‘I think I can pull it off. The artist,Turner, was alive in London in 1848. I read up on him and he was a bit of an eccentric recluse at that time; he died in 1851, and in his final years, everything went to shit, but he’d already painted his famous works. He was well known, but his gallery had fallen into disrepair and he was living in poverty.’
‘How terribly sad,’ she said.
‘Yes, it is, which is what prompted my idea. This could be a win-win for us all: an opportunity to raise money so we can buy Willow Manor, outright, and at the same time Mr Turner’s final years will be more comfortable.’
She nodded. ‘Sounds good.’
‘I will make a generous offer for a painting we know will fetch a high price from the right private buyer—his paintings are worth a fortune these days.’
‘How will you know which one to buy? I’m not up on his work other than knowing he was famous for landscapes,’ she said.
‘I think our best bet is for me to visit him. It would be amazing to meet him, and that way I could find out which paintings he is still in possession of in 1848.’
‘I like it, but what about the obvious dangers of rewriting history?’
‘That’s why I’m thinking that rather than trying to buy one of the famous paintings which is now likely in the collection at the Tate,I’ll see if I can acquire a lesser known one. Maybe we’ll get lucky,’ said George.
‘That is a fantastic plan.’
‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull it off, but it’s worth a try, don’t you think?’
‘There’s just one small problem.’ Cara wrinkled up her nose and her eyes sparkled.
‘What can possibly be problematic about locating a dead painter from two centuries ago and then transferring one of his great works of art through time?’
‘Let’s say you manage to buy a painting. Where will you store it, so we can access it now?’ asked Cara.
‘Ah, good point. I don’t know yet. We’re back in London staying in the Grosvenor Square townhouse. Perhaps I can hide it there,’ he said.
‘If only we’d bought that townhouse; you could store the painting in a cupboard and we could retrieve it immediately. Not that we’d need to; imagine how much that townhouse is worth today. I reckon, we could just sell it and fetch enough to buy Willow Manor.’
‘I don’t know who owned that house—it may have belonged to the Crown. The palace arranged our accommodation when we stayed in London so there’s no easy way to gain access now,’ he said.
‘I wonder where we lived after that. I have often wondered what happened to us later, but it spooks me a bit,’ she said.
‘What an awful thought—to know in advance when we’re going to die. I hope I die before you.’ George looked stricken.
‘It’s too horrible to think about. I don’t want to be stranded in time, hundreds of years ago without you. Maybe timeline amnesia is a blessing, after all.’
