by Nicola Upson
‘Loveday, what on earth are you doing here?’ Josephine asked, going over to her. ‘You should be tucked up in bed.’
‘I know, but I wanted to see Shilling so I pretended to be asleep and then slipped out. Mr Motley’s very trusting.’ She grinned, and Josephine had to admire her spirit. ‘That’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so, but only for a bit. Shilling needs his rest, and so do you.’ She sat down on the straw next to Loveday, and put her arm around the girl’s small shoulders. ‘But as you’re here, I’ve got some good news for you. The police have found Christopher, and he’s absolutely fine.’ Loveday hugged Josephine in delight; when she eventually pulled away, Josephine was both touched and concerned to see the joy in her eyes. ‘He’s not coming home straight away, though,’ she said, anxious not to give the girl false hope. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to see him when you’re better, but you’ll have to be patient. You’ve both been through so much.’
‘That’s all right – I’m used to being patient with Christopher,’ Loveday said. ‘But Morveth was right – she said I shouldn’t give up hope.’
‘Oh?’ said Josephine cautiously. ‘You’ve seen her, then?’
‘Yes. Mr Motley brought her up to talk to me this evening. It was Morveth who told me I should come and see Shilling. She meant when I was better,’ Loveday added, misinterpreting the concern on Josephine’s face, ‘but I couldn’t wait. She said that Shilling and I had lots in common because we’d both be missing Harry, so we should stick together and keep each other company.’
‘That sounds like good advice,’ Josephine said, surprised. ‘What else did Morveth say to you?’
‘She explained that people have to carry on with their lives even when they’re sad, and that’s when they need their friends around them most. She told me that I must never forget Harry and Morwenna, or be too upset to talk about them, and that everything they meant to me is still here even if they’re not.’ Josephine listened, wondering if she’d done Morveth an injustice after all; the advice – which seemed to have given Loveday some genuine comfort – was a long way from the false hope of which she had just accused her. Suddenly, she felt ashamed of the criticisms which she had handed out so readily: someone who viewed the world through a mirror was hardly in a position to judge other people’s methods of dealing with reality. ‘And she gave me this to remind me of them,’ Loveday added. Josephine took the book which was held out to her, but failed to see how Ivanhoe could possibly remind the girl of her brother and sister. ‘No, not that – this,’ Loveday explained impatiently, pulling out the photograph which she had been using as a bookmark. ‘It’s the only one she had of the two of them together.’
It was not a physical likeness which would have told Josephine that the man with Morwenna was Harry, even if she’d come to the picture without Loveday’s explanation; there was a resemblance around the mouth and chin if you looked closely, but that was all. No, it was the expression of joy in Morwenna’s eyes that gave it away – a declaration of love as eloquent as the verbal description which had had such an impact on Josephine during their conversation outside the boathouse. With a shock, she realised that she was not looking at Harry Pinching for the first time: she had met him before – in the stables on Monday night, when she went to find Shilling. She remembered how struck she had been by the young man’s passion for the horses and the gentleness with which he had treated them; it was a rare and powerful combination, and she acknowledged the truth of Morwenna’s words: you had to meet Harry to understand their love. Aware now that the dead man was not in fact the stranger she had assumed him to be, Josephine felt his loss with a new intensity.
She gave the photograph back to Loveday. ‘Morveth’s right, you know – about your friends, I mean. They’ll take care of you, just like you’ll take care of Shilling.’
‘Yes, I know. Morveth’s promised to look after me – her and Mr Motley. And if Christopher does come home, I’ll be able to look after him.’
Josephine smiled at Loveday’s unconscious recognition of her own strength. ‘We should go back to the house,’ she said, ‘or you won’t be in a fit state to look after anyone.’
‘All right,’ Loveday agreed reluctantly, ‘but will you come and see me tomorrow? Miss Motley read me a story this afternoon, but she’s nowhere near as good as you. It was kind of her to bother, but I don’t think she really believed in what she was saying. You have to believe in a story to make it a good one, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ said Josephine, getting up and holding out her hand. ‘Yes, I suppose you do.’
Author’s Note
Angel With Two Faces is a work of fiction, inspired by real places, real lives and, in some cases, real events, and is a tribute to the unique beauty of Porthleven, the Loe Pool, and the Penrose Estate, as well as to the people who live and work there. It’s a community that I love being part of – one which does indeed turn a face to the past as well as to the present, and is all the more special for that.
Josephine Tey was one of two pseudonyms created by Elizabeth Mackintosh (1896–1952) during a versatile and successful career as a novelist and playwright; the other, Gordon Daviot, was reserved for plays, historical fiction and a biography. Unravelling her life through her work and her letters continues to be a fascinating journey, and the Josephine Tey who appears in Angel With Two Faces blends some of what we know about Elizabeth Mackintosh with the personality which emerges so strongly from her eight crime novels – novels which have always been widely regarded as some of the finest and most original to emerge from the Golden Age period.
In reality, Tey did, of course, finish the book we see her writing here, although it was not set in Cornwall. A Shilling for Candles was published in 1936, and went on to be the basis of Hitchcock’s film, Young and Innocent. In her book, Tey’s murder victim – the actress Christine Clay – leaves her fortune ‘for the preservation of the beauty of England’, something which the author herself would do less than twenty years later, when, after her premature death at the age of 55, she left her estate and the royalties from her writing to the National Trust for England in a special Daviot Fund.
I’m sure she would be delighted to know that the Loe Pool and the Penrose Estate are now in the safe hands of the National Trust, and some of the author’s proceeds from Angel With Two Faces will go to support the Trust’s work on the Estate.
Acknowledgements
I owe a great debt to my Cornish friends – to Victor and Monica Strike for their generosity in sharing stories of their family trades in matters of life and death, which have shaped the book more than they can know; Oliver Allen for bringing 1930s Porthleven to life with his own family history; George Snell for his legendary tales and for memories of Loe Bar and Gunwalloe; Brian Stephens for the loan of his library, and for keeping an eye on us whenever we’re there; Motley Penrose (or Lynford) for making Helston Lodge more glorious than it is already; Lynda Green for happy times at the Galley and at Motley & Co.; Sheila Toy, Michael Crowle, John Strike and all the Motley regulars; Lesley Wearne from Charlotte’s Tea House for lending her name; and Sandy and Russell at the An Mordros Hotel for their constant support and encouragement, and most of all for their friendship – without which, there would be no Cornish novel.
I’m forever grateful to the Rogers family for allowing people to enjoy the beauty of the Loe Pool and Penrose Estate, and to the staff and touring companies at the Minack Theatre who continue to keep the spirit of Rowena Cade very much alive with magical performances each summer. My apologies go to the artist Hilda Quick, who actually designed the costumes for the Minack’s 1935 production of The Jackdaw of Rheims; to my knowledge, the performances went off without a hitch.
Part of the research for this book was funded by Arts Council England, and I would like to thank everyone at Arts Council England, East for their continued support of the series; my agent, Karolina Sutton, my editor, Walter Donohue, and everyone at Faber and Faber for making the books a re
ality and a joy; Dr Peter Fordyce for devoting so much of his precious time to advising on nastiness, and for his love and knowledge of horses; Alastair Cameron from the National Trust for providing information about the history of the Penrose Estate; Margaret Westwood, Dr Helen Grime and Anne Fraser of The Highland Council for continuing to unravel the past; Professor Harriet Jump for the gracious loan of her mother and aunt; Carol Carman for all the inside information from the Yard; and Cambridge University Library for holding the answers to so many questions – I don’t know how anyone writes a book without it. Special thanks go, once again, to Irene for her magic and blessings, and to St Anthony of Holland Park for so much more than finding the title.
Love and thanks – as always – to my family, in particular to my father for his love of the woods and a good game of cricket, and to my mother for her passion for a good story and her eagle eyes during the early stages of this one.
And to Mandy, who drove 380 miles in the snow to start our Cornish adventure in Morveth Wearne’s cottage – this book is precious to us for lots of different reasons, but none more so than the fact that we’ve done it together.
About the Author
Nicola Upson was born in Suffolk and read English at Downing College, Cambridge. She has worked in theatre and as a freelance journalist, and is the author of two non-fiction works and the recipient of an Escalator Award from the Arts Council England.
Her debut novel, An Expert in Murder, was the first in a series of crime novels whose main character is Josephine Tey – one of the leading authors of Britain's Golden Age of crime writing.
She lives with her partner in Cambridge and spends much of her time in Cornwall, which is the setting for her second Josephine Tey novel, Angel with Two Faces.
by the same author
AN EXPERT IN MURDER
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