Secret Things and Highland Flings

by Tracy Corbett

  He waited.

  ‘2007 was the year you ran off. Could this be the reason you fell out with our parents, we wondered.’ She obviously already knew the answer. ‘So that just leaves one unresolved puzzle. If you weren’t planning to run off and sell the second painting behind our backs, why didn’t you want us to know about it?’

  His mouth wouldn’t work. He’d stopped breathing. Pain gripped his chest.

  ‘I have a theory,’ she said, leaning against the table. ‘Lexi asked Louisa if she could send the painting to an expert. Which means there’s a question mark over its authenticity. And this made me think. What if the other Spinelli wasn’t an original, either?’

  His heart rate was so accelerated he thought he might pass out. His hands were clammy and he could feel beads of sweat running down his forehead.

  ‘And then I thought, surely I’m not the only person to think this?’ She pushed away from the table. ‘You needed to retrieve The Cursed Man from the gallery because you think it’s a forgery, don’t you? And if that’s the case, then it’s likely the first painting was a forgery, too. Am I right?’

  He’d been sprung. He tried to focus, but the room was a blur. He rested his hands on his knees, trying to breathe. Christ, was he having a panic attack?

  Louisa wheeled herself over. ‘Is that why you fell out with our parents, Olly?’ There was no accusation left in her voice, it was soothing and calm. She gently rubbed his back. ‘It’s okay. We understand. You don’t have to pretend anymore.’

  There was no point continuing to lie. ‘I … I’m sorry.’

  Silence descended, broken only by the sound of his ragged breathing.

  Sophie came over. ‘Did our parents know it was a forgery?’

  Again, there was no point lying. His sisters were too smart to be outwitted. ‘I tried to persuade them not to do it, but they wouldn’t listen. I didn’t want you to find out. I knew you’d be devastated. I’m so sorry.’

  A beat passed before Sophie said, ‘What are you not telling us?’

  He was about to deny it, when he realised they might as well know the whole truth. He was sick of lying. ‘I found out they sold one of my replica sketches ahead of the auction. A preliminary drawing of The Sacrificial Woman. They created false provenance for it so it appeared to be the work of Albrico Spinelli.’

  Louisa gasped.

  Sophie’s eyes widened. ‘Our parents falsified documents?’

  He nodded. ‘They also created fake provenance for the main painting. That’s how they managed to pass it off as an original.’

  Sophie swore. ‘I’m not sure whether I’m impressed, or horrified.’

  Louisa burst out crying. ‘Oh, Olly!’ She tried to hug him, but Baby Olly was in the way. Her son protested when he got squashed between them. ‘You poor, poor thing. What an awful burden to carry. No wonder you stayed away.’

  Her words had an odd effect on him. It was like someone had cracked open his chest with a tyre iron. A mixture of pain and relief flooded him.

  For a long while, no one spoke. He suspected they were all too stunned. He knew he was.

  Eventually, Sophie broke the silence. ‘You know you’ve been a right bloody idiot, don’t you?’

  ‘I was trying to protect my family. What else could I do?’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong, I understand your reasoning, but if you’d come to me we could’ve sorted this. We wouldn’t be in this mess.’

  She had a point. He rubbed his wet eyes. ‘It’s done now. The truth’s bound to come out. I’m just hoping it doesn’t result in the buyer of The Sacrificial Woman suing us. Our finances couldn’t cope with that.’

  Louisa squeezed his arm. ‘Hey, don’t give up. We just need a better plan.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘We do?’

  She nodded. ‘You’re not on your own anymore, Olly. We’re in this together. Isn’t that right, Sophie?’

  Sophie pulled a face. ‘Yeah, one big happy family.’ But her sarcasm was preferable to anger. She moved around the room looking ponderous. ‘Okay, so here’s what we do.’ She turned to face him. ‘Lexi’s already sent off the painting for authentication, so there’s nothing we can do about that.’

  He frowned. ‘But she’ll discover it’s a fake.’

  ‘So what? It’s not like she’ll alert the press or authorities, is it? I mean, she’s mad at you, who wouldn’t be? But she’s a professional art dealer. She must’ve come across loads of works that don’t turn out to be the real deal. Why should this be any different?’

  He pointed to the art catalogue. ‘Because the minute she discovers our family sold the other Spinelli she’ll suspect a scam. Especially now she knows I’ve been lying to her.’

  Sophie looked nonplussed. ‘Maybe, but she wouldn’t deliberately hurt you, would she? Or us, for that matter. Especially if she’s feeling particularly loved-up.’

  Loved-up? ‘Are you serious? She hates me. She never wants to see me again.’

  ‘And with good reason. But she wouldn’t be this angry if she didn’t have feelings for you.’

  He frowned. ‘She wouldn’t?’

  Sophie gave him an incredulous look. ‘Men can be so dumb.’ She perched on the arm of the wingback chair. ‘The painting you were working on last week? Was that for her?’

  He nodded. ‘Her ex-husband stole the original painting from her gallery. He’s listed it for auction at Sotheby’s in Edinburgh this coming Monday. I painted a copy and suggested she use it to try to get the original back.’

  Louisa lifted Baby Olly onto her shoulder. ‘How?’

  ‘By swapping it for the original before the auction.’

  Sophie tapped her forehead. ‘So that’s what they were talking about last night.’

  He frowned. ‘Who?’

  ‘Lexi and Tasha. I went after them when they stormed off. I wanted to check they didn’t torch the place after your little spat.’ She glared at him. ‘I overheard Lexi telling her sister she didn’t want to go through with the swap anymore. She just wanted to return home to Windsor. I had no idea what they were on about at the time.’

  ‘You mean, she’s not going to try to get her painting back?’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like it.’

  He couldn’t believe it. ‘But why? She loves that painting. She told me it means the world to her. Why would she back out now?’

  Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, I don’t know, Olly. Maybe because she’s had enough of men stealing from her and lying to her.’ She walked over and whacked his arm with the catalogue. ‘That last accusation is aimed at you, by the way.’

  ‘That much I’d gathered.’ He rubbed his scar. ‘But that’s why I need to make amends. She deserves better. I have to do something.’

  Sophie’s hand settled on her hip. ‘Suppose I helped you get it back for her?’

  He blinked. ‘Why would you do that?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, for a start, if we get her painting back she’s less likely to report us to the authorities when she finds out The Cursed Man is a fake.’

  He shook his head. ‘That’s not why I’m doing this. This is about making amends. There’s no ulterior motive.’ He needed to prove to Lexi that he was more than just a lying scumbag.

  Sophie shrugged. ‘Fair enough.’

  He frowned at her. ‘You’re still prepared to help me? Why?’

  She threw her hands in the air. ‘Why do you think, numbnuts? Because you’re my brother. Believe it or not, I care about you.’

  ‘We both do,’ Louisa said, patting her son’s back. ‘And we’d do anything to help you. Especially if it means winning Lexi back.’ Her face broke into a huge smile. ‘It’s so romantic! And it’s about time Lexi got what she deserved. A faithful, loving, loyal man who’d risk life and ruin to rescue her.’ She looked at him expectantly. ‘That’s you, by the way.’

  He startled. ‘Me?’

  Louisa nodded. ‘You love her, don’t you? You want her to forgive you and live happily ever after?�
��

  He looked from one sister to the other, both with expectant expressions. It suddenly dawned on him. ‘Yeah, I do.’

  ‘Damn straight you do.’ Sophie tucked the catalogue under her arm and headed for the door. ‘So let’s get her painting back. Go and pack a bag. We’re leaving for Edinburgh this afternoon and if we’re going to pull this thing off, we need one hell of a plan.’

  She wasn’t wrong there.

  Baby Olly let out a massive burp.

  Louisa smiled down at her son. ‘See? Even Baby Olly approves.’

  Big Olly closed his eyes.

  Heaven help them all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Monday 25th June

  Lexi had never been so nervous in her life. Her hands shook as she tried to lift the cup of tea to her lips. She wasn’t hungry, but Tasha had insisted she have breakfast before they headed over to Sotheby’s.

  Even thinking about what they were about to do made her nauseous. How on earth was she going to hold it together?

  She glanced around her. The Lime café in Thistle Street was busy. It reminded her of Nanny’s with its quaint tables and home-cooked food. If her stomach wasn’t tied in knots she might enjoy the steaming bowl of porridge topped with cinnamon and maple syrup. But it was as much as she could do to drink her tea.

  Thoughts of Nanny’s reminded her of Shieldaig, which led to thoughts of Rubha Castle and inevitably to thinking about Olly. The memory of Friday night was still raw. Burnt onto her brain. One moment she’d been basking in the success of the exhibition, the next she’d been reeling from discovering that Olly was the artist, Dazed & Confused. He’d lied to her. Not just lied. He’d played her for a fool. Just as Marcus had done.

  The waitress removed her cold porridge, concerned that there was something wrong with it. Lexi reassured her it was delicious and feigned an upset stomach before returning to staring at the checked tablecloth and forcing down another mouthful of tea.

  She was angry with herself. Angry that she hadn’t learnt from her mistakes with Marcus. She’d vowed never to let a man swindle her again. But he had. And she’d let it happen. Instead of trusting her instincts and seeing Olly for what he was, a practised liar, she’d been seduced by his open smile and mischievous blue eyes. She’d ignored the warning signs, the inconsistencies and fabricated stories, and believed him to be a decent man with a sad childhood. Never play poker, he’d said, you’ll lose badly. Well, boy had she lost.

  She wiped away tears and checked the carry case containing the Woman at the Window copy was still safely tucked under the table.

  The bell above the door tinkled and her sister appeared in the doorway, causing heads to turn. Tasha strode across the café in her usual confident manner, looking stylish in a black Victorian-styled jacket and knee-length skirt. Her biker boots had been replaced with plain courts and she was carrying a suitcase.

  Despite her misery, Lexi almost smiled. ‘Is this your idea of inconspicuous?’

  Tasha sat down and removed her sunglasses. ‘I thought I’d done quite well,’ she said, holding out her hands. ‘No nail polish. No skull rings. And no tattoos on show.’

  ‘Apart from the one on your chest.’

  Tasha adjusted her jacket, covering the dagger entwined in a rose. ‘Better?’

  Lexi nodded. ‘It’s me who’s the problem.’

  Tasha frowned. ‘You’re wearing exactly what I told you to. You look classy, businesslike and unremarkable. Although you need to stop crying. It’s not a good look.’ She crossed her legs. ‘He’s so not worth it,’ she said, sounding like a bad L’Oréal advert.

  Lexi blew her nose, feeling far from professional in her navy trouser suit and white shirt. ‘It’s not just about Olly. It’s everything that’s happened over the past two years. Marcus’s betrayal. Nearly losing the gallery. The fraudulent insurance policy. I think it’s all catching up with me.’

  Tasha leant across and squeezed her hand. ‘I know, sweetie. But you need to get a grip. We’re not going to pull this off if you’re a quivering mess.’

  ‘That’s my point. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have let you change my mind.’

  ‘Nonsense. You’re just nervous.’

  Lexi shook her head, making her earrings sway. ‘You were right when you said I should leave it to the authorities to sort out. It was crazy even to think we could pull this off.’

  Tasha sighed. ‘No, you were right when you said we needed to retrieve the painting ourselves.’

  ‘Only because I wasn’t thinking straight.’ Lexi removed her jacket, suddenly hot. She’d allowed Olly to get into her brain and scramble her thoughts. She’d been seduced by his talents – not to mention his other attributes – and had gone along with his crazy plan. But that was before she’d realised he couldn’t be trusted. ‘It’s safer if I present the ownership papers to Sotheby’s and let them deal with it.’

  Tasha didn’t look convinced. ‘And risk the painting getting confiscated? They’re not going to hand it over, Lexi. There’ll be a long-drawn-out investigation, arguments over ownership, and you’ll be tied up in red tape for months.’

  ‘But at least I won’t be breaking the law.’

  ‘And how are you going to deal with questions about how you paid for the painting? The date of the purchase was within the bankruptcy period, so it’ll be classed as an asset. An asset you should’ve declared.’

  Her sister had a point.

  ‘The painting will be sold and the proceeds will be offset against the original debt. Marcus’s debt. And you’ll still be left owing the official receiver twenty-seven grand. Not to mention a potential investigation for fraud.’

  ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘Well, lucky for you, I did.’ Tasha sat back in her chair. ‘I’ll admit not straight away. But since you told me about taking the money from the house, I’ve been doing some research. The only way out of this is for us to get that painting back and transfer ownership to me. That way, I can legitimately sell it and give you the money. Then you can pay off the official receiver saying your sister gave you the money, which would be the truth.’

  ‘There’d still be a paper trail back to me.’

  ‘Not necessarily. You paid for the painting in cash, right?’

  Lexi nodded.

  ‘Right. So we say I gave you the money to buy the painting on my behalf. No one can prove otherwise. It’s a business transaction. And as you’ve already proved in court, the gallery is excluded from the bankruptcy.’

  Lexi rubbed her forehead. ‘More lies.’

  Tasha reached across and took her hand. ‘Time’s running out. We have a plan, Lexi. We need to stick to it.’

  Lexi nodded. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Now, come on.’ She checked her watch. ‘We need to time our arrival perfectly. Arriving too early will allow the auction house the opportunity to involve Marcus. Arriving too late might see the painting sold before we’ve had the chance to put our plan into action.’

  ‘Did you check the schedule?’

  ‘Yes. The Woman at the Window is listed as Lot one hundred and twenty-three. It has a reserve price of five grand. I reckon that gives us about an hour before bidding begins. Just enough time to recover the wretched thing.’

  Lexi’s mouth had gone dry. She took a last swig of tea. Her precious painting valued at a fraction of its worth. Talk about depressing.

  Tasha stood up. ‘In an hour this will all be over and we can go home.’

  God, Lexi hoped so.

  Chapter Twenty

  Monday 25th June

  When Olly and Sophie had left Rubha Castle late Saturday afternoon, he’d already known his Vespa wasn’t the fastest mode of transportation in the world. With Sophie riding pillion, they might as well have driven a mobility scooter to Inverness – eighty miles had never seemed so long. At one point, he’d felt it would be a miracle if they reached Sotheby’s by the end of the month, let alone by Monday.

  Their saving grace had been the
empty Highland lanes, enabling them to get a move on. Well, as much as the Vespa would allow. Failing to stop at three traffic lights had also helped. He’d worry about that when the tickets arrived. If their plan stood any chance of working, they needed enough time to put everything into place.

  Having stored his scooter in the long-stay car park at the station, he’d incurred Sophie’s wrath when they’d discovered they’d missed the last train. After an uncomfortable night in a B & B, they’d eventually boarded the train for Edinburgh early Sunday morning.

  It was now Monday morning and they were seated in Café Marlayne on Thistle Street. He’d have preferred the smaller Lime café further down the road, but Sophie had insisted on French cuisine. Recompense for being forced to ride his scooter.

  ‘And you’re certain Lexi hasn’t changed her mind and they’re not at the auction house?’ He pushed his eggs around the plate. A fear of failure had killed any desire to eat.

  Sophie tucked into her French toast, not suffering from the same affliction. ‘I’m positive. I looked everywhere, even the toilets. Trust me, they’re not there.’

  ‘How can we be certain?’

  Sophie lowered her fork. ‘If you’d had the foresight to get their phone numbers, we could’ve called them to check. But you didn’t, did you?’ She glared at him and resumed eating.

  ‘It’s not like I didn’t try.’ Lexi hadn’t trusted him enough to share her details. Something that had felt unfair at the time and now felt entirely justified.

  ‘Stop stressing,’ Sophie said, reaching for her iced tea. ‘We won’t do anything until we’re satisfied they’re not at the auction house. Okay?’

  He nodded.

  The waiter appeared and topped up his coffee.

  It had seemed like such a simple plan when Sophie had suggested it. But now they were about to put the plan into action he was getting cold feet.

  ‘Supposing we get caught?’ he said when the waiter disappeared. ‘The scandal could ruin us.’

  ‘Caught doing what? We’re not stealing the painting, Olly. We have a logical and perfectly reasonable explanation worked out. Nothing will go wrong.’