She was just passing a cafe when she saw him.
‘Julian?’ she said.
‘Celeste!’ he cried, a surprised smile on his face.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, looking at the vacant shop he’d just walked out of.
‘I’ve been checking out a few properties, remember?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘For your antiques?’ She looked at the little shop with the bay window. ‘Any good?’
‘Too small,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t fit half what I wanted in there.’
‘Really? You plan to have a lot of stock, then?’
‘No point in doing things by halves, is there?’ he said, his blue eyes bright with excitement.
‘I suppose not,’ she said.
‘It’s good to see you,’ he said. ‘Are you keeping well?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ she said.
‘And your sisters?’
‘Very well,’ she said.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I often think about you all in that moated manor house of yours.’
‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘And I was going to give you a call about the Fantin-Latour,’ he said. ‘I might have some –’
‘Julian?’ a voice interrupted them from behind Celeste.
‘Ah, there you are, Miles,’ Julian said. ‘I lost you.’
‘Sorry,’ the man said. ‘I had to take a call.’ He slipped his mobile into his jacket pocket.
‘Celeste,’ Julian said, ‘this is my brother, Miles.’
‘Well,’ Miles said, taking hold of Celeste’s hand and shaking it, a huge smile on his face. ‘So you’re the real reason why my little brother’s been spending so much time in Suffolk, are you?’
Celeste felt her face heat up at the suggestion and saw that Julian’s had coloured up too.
‘Celeste is a client,’ Julian told him.
‘Is that what they’re calling it these days?’ He gave a laugh and winked at Celeste.
Celeste looked up at him. He was taller and broader than Julian but his features were similar and he had the same dark red hair. But there was something intrinsically different about him that Celeste couldn’t quite put her finger on.
‘Let me help you with those bags,’ Miles said, nodding to the two carriers she was holding in her left hand.
‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘It’s quite all right. I haven’t got far to go.’
But Miles had already taken them off her. ‘Where are you parked?’
‘Up by the church,’ she said, and the three of them walked up the hill together.
‘I didn’t realise Suffolk was so full of beautiful women,’ Miles said, grinning at Celeste as they walked.
‘Well, I don’t know about that,’ Celeste said, trying to catch Julian’s eye, but he was looking resolutely ahead.
‘You never thought of leaving Suffolk for life in the big city?’ Miles asked her.
‘No, never,’ Celeste said honestly.
‘I could show you all the best places London has to offer,’ he said. ‘I know them all. Restaurants, clubs, theatres – we could have a lot of fun.’
Celeste couldn’t help but smile as Miles cocked his head to one side to gauge her response.
‘Not tempted?’ he asked.
‘Not really,’ she said as they reached her car.
‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ he said in a sing-song voice.
Celeste shook her head in amusement. ‘Thanks for carrying my bags,’ she said.
‘No problem,’ he said. ‘That’s what these muscles are for.’
Celeste looked surprised by his declaration.
‘You don’t work out, do you, Julian?’ Miles continued, turning to his brother after placing the shopping bags on the back seat of Celeste’s Morris Minor.
‘You know I don’t,’ Julian said. ‘I much prefer walking to sweating at a gym.’
‘Yes, but walking doesn’t build your muscles up – and the ladies all love muscles!’ Miles said. ‘I work out four times a week – sometimes more.’
Celeste looked at Julian as if to ask him how the conversation had veered so strangely but he simply shook his head.
‘We have a gym in our building with all the latest top-of-the-range equipment,’ Miles went on, seemingly oblivious to the thoughts of his companions. ‘It’s superb. Of course, I’m the fittest man there. Even the youngsters can’t keep up with the pace I set. Just feel these biceps, Celeste.’
Celeste did a double take. ‘Pardon?’
‘Go on! Feel them,’ he said, taking his jacket off.
‘She really doesn’t want to feel your muscles, Miles,’ Julian said.
‘Nonsense! Every woman wants to feel my muscles.
‘I think I’ll pass,’ Celeste said, completely baffled by Miles’s behaviour.
Miles frowned. ‘You’re missing a treat. The number of women who’d like to get their hands on my body!’ He made an odd spluttering sound and Celeste caught Julian’s eye again. Julian simply raised his to the sky.
‘I think I’d better get going,’ Celeste said, turning to leave.
‘You see, Jules,’ Miles said, ‘you’ve always had a knack of chasing the women away.’
‘We’d better get going too, eh, Miles?’
‘You always take pleasure in embarrassing me, don’t you?’ Miles suddenly said.
‘I don’t do any such thing,’ Julian said calmly.
‘Yes! Yes you do,’ Miles continued, his smile now replaced with a deeply engraved scowl.
‘Look, I’d better get going,’ Celeste said.
‘No, wait a minute,’ Julian said, and Celeste watched as he turned to face Miles. ‘Would you mind giving us a minute?’
Miles glared at his brother. ‘Take all the time you want,’ he said. ‘I’m off. I’m fed up of hanging around this backwater.’
They watched as Miles stalked back down the hill into town.
‘What the hell was all that about?’ Celeste asked once Miles was safely out of earshot.
‘Don’t pay any attention to him. He’s an idiot.’ Julian ran a hand through his hair. He looked flustered and it wasn’t a look Celeste was used to seeing. ‘Look, I wanted to give you a call. I’ve got some good news about the Fantin-Latour.’
‘Okay,’ Celeste said.
‘So, is it okay if I call round?’
‘Of course,’ Celeste said.
‘Are you about tomorrow?’
‘I imagine so,’ she said.
‘Still chained to that desk of yours?’ he asked.
‘Something like that.’
‘Okay, well, I’ll pop over mid-morning, if that suits.’
‘That would be fine.’
‘Right,’ he said, ‘I’d better see if I can smooth things over with Miles.’
‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said, and he waved her a goodbye before heading back into town.
Celeste stood there watching him for a couple of minutes. For some reason, her heart was racing and it took her a moment to realise why. Miles Faraday had reminded her of somebody. Somebody who had made her feel confusion, anger and fear all at once. Somebody she’d had the good sense to walk away from and whose likeness she’d hoped never to meet again.
Her mother.
19.
Celeste took Frinton for a walk, ambling along the bank that edged the River Stour and then striding out into the fields towards Duke’s Wood. It had rained in the night and both dog and mistress were delighted by the scents that the rain had released. Celeste took in great lungfuls of the woodland air, luxuriating in the early summer stillness of the place and the soft earth that supported her light tread.
Duke’s Wood was a favourite haunt of Celeste’s and had been since the first precious day when sh
e’d discovered it for herself. Her mind spiralled back into the past as she remembered running through the stubble fields, her ankles scratched and bleeding as she fled towards the trees, not knowing where she was going.
The wood had welcomed her with a green embrace and had hidden her from the world as she’d sat at the base of a smooth beech tree, the wild beating of her heart slowly returning to normal as she’d watched a deer moving through the trees and listened to the song of a robin in a holly thicket.
She passed that very place now, remembering the comfort it had given her as she’d tried to banish the words of her mother from her mind.
‘Get out of my sight – you useless girl!’
There had been other words too – cold, hurtful words as sharp as flints – too painful to remember, but they had left their mark in her heart. Celeste had sat in the wood until their sting had lessened, until the light had faded from the sky and the wood was shrouded in darkness.
She hadn’t wanted to go home but where else did a thirteen-year-old girl have to go? So she’d walked home at twilight, the eerie shadows of the trees her only companions.
‘Where have you been?’ Evie had cried as soon as Celeste had opened the front door. ‘You’ve missed your dinner! We had treacle tart for pudding.’
Gertie looked more anxious. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked and Celeste had nodded.
‘I just lost track of time,’ she lied.
‘There you are, darling!’ her mother chimed. ‘We thought you’d left home for good this time. I was going to let your room out to a nice student.’
Celeste stared at her mother’s smiling, bemused face. She seemed to have forgotten the whole incident and expected that Celeste would forget it too but she couldn’t. How could she? But neither could she talk about it. Instead, she reeled with pain and confusion, unable to put her emotions into words even if she’d had the courage to confront her mother or confide in her sisters.
She remembered that evening now as she walked through the woods with Frinton. It was funny how places were tinged by the past. For her, Duke’s Wood would always be connected with that lonely evening when she was a teenager.
She looked up into the brilliant green of the beech leaves and thought how long ago that night had been and yet she still carried that teenage girl inside her. She was still there, that young Celeste, hiding behind the memories that had been collected since. One had only to scratch the surface to discover her again.
Perhaps it was meeting Julian’s brother that had made her think of that long-ago incident now, she thought. There’d been that same cold and callous quality about Miles Faraday that her mother had had. The same outspokenness, too, and lack of empathy with anybody else’s feelings. It had shaken her to witness it in somebody else.
It was then that Frinton set up barking at the base of a great oak tree up which a squirrel had shot. Celeste watched as he jumped up on his back legs, his ears alert as if the poor creature might drop out of the tree into his jaws at any moment. She laughed. If only she’d had a fox terrier whilst growing up. They had a knack for vanquishing one’s woes in an instant.
Celeste was glad to see Julian’s MG pulling up in the driveway as she got back from her walk. She couldn’t help but feel calmer somehow when he was around. He had an uncanny ability to chase the blues away and lift the spirit, and she really couldn’t think of many people who did that. It would be a shame to lose his friendship when the business with the paintings was over, she thought. He really was a sweet man.
‘Hello,’ she called as she approached him.
‘Good morning,’ he said cheerfully, bending down to greet Frinton, who had torn across the driveway to reach him. ‘Been for a walk?’
‘To the woods.’
‘Nice,’ he said. ‘Perfect day, isn’t it?’
‘I’ve been skilfully avoiding the study all morning.’
‘Good for you,’ he said.
‘Cup of tea?’ she asked.
‘Thank you,’ he said and the two of them fell into step together, entering the house a moment later.
Celeste served tea in the living room and that’s when Julian began.
‘So, I think I’ve got some good news for you.’
‘Is it the buyer in America?’
Julian nodded. ‘She’s very keen to make us an offer on the Fantin-Latour.’
‘So, you think it would be better to sell to her directly without going to auction?’
‘Well, it depends how quickly you need the funds.’
‘Pretty quickly.’
‘I thought as much,’ he said.
‘Yes, we’re about to get a quote for the work and I’m afraid it will be eye-wateringly high.’
‘I can imagine,’ Julian said. ‘Well, she’s told me that she wants that painting, and when Kammie Colton wants something, the amount she’s willing to pay doesn’t come into it. You can pretty much name your price.’
‘Really?’ Celeste said, still thinking of the quote. ‘It certainly would be nice to have some money in the pot.’
‘I’ve done a lot of research on Fantin-Latour and what his pieces have fetched in recent years, so you’re not going to lose out by not going the route of the auction. Auctions can be so risky, too – so much of it is down to luck on the day – so you might actually be a lot better off settling things outside the auction room.’
Celeste nodded. ‘I really appreciate your advice on all this.’
‘All part of the job,’ he said. ‘It’s a really special painting and I’d like to see it do well for you. I know how much it means to you.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘There’s just one small matter to sort out.’
‘Oh?’
‘Mrs Colton is flying to the UK next week and will be coming to see the painting in London. It sounds like she’s been doing her research about your family, too, and she’s expressed an interest in meeting you all and seeing the manor and gardens.’
‘Has she?’ Celeste asked, feeling flustered.
‘I think she just wants to know a bit more about the painting’s background. A painting of roses belonging to a family who grow roses and live in a medieval moated manor house has really captured her imagination. She’s an American. They don’t have such places over there. She was very excited about the idea of seeing Little Eleigh Manor.’
‘You’ve spoken to her about it?’
‘Yes,’ Julian said. ‘I said I didn’t think there’d be a problem but that I’d better speak to you first. So, what do you think?’
There was a pause before Celeste answered. ‘I’m not at all sure about this, to be honest,’ she said, suddenly feeling very anxious.
‘No?’ Julian said. ‘It’ll only take a couple of hours and it really would mean the world to her. She’s flying all the way from America to do this deal and, from what I can gather, she’s a real Anglophile. This trip will make her really happy. And I’ll be with her, of course. You wouldn’t have to deal with any of it on your own.’
Celeste nodded in understanding.
‘But I can understand if you don’t want a stranger in your home,’ Julian went on. ‘Just say the word and I’ll let her know it’s not really feasible.’
Celeste bit her lip. She felt mean now. ‘Of course she can come,’ she said at last, ‘and we’ll make cucumber sandwiches and a nice Victoria sponge if it would really make her happy.’
‘Really?’ Julian said. ‘I’m sure she’d be thrilled.’
‘And I’ll just keep thinking about her chequebook,’ Celeste said.
Julian laughed. ‘I’ll set up a day and time for her visit, then?’
Celeste nodded. ‘So how did you get on in Lavenham?’ she asked. ‘Did you find the right shop in the end?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ he said. ‘Nothing was quite right.’
‘So, you’re serious about opening an antiques shop?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Julian said. ‘It’s time, you know? And you helped inspire me.’
‘I did?’ she said in surprise.
‘With your courage in deciding to sell your paintings and move forward.’
‘But that wasn’t courage – that was panic!’
Julian grinned. ‘All the same, it made me think about my future and really start to plan ahead.’
‘Well, I’m really pleased for you. I think it’ll suit you.’
‘Really?’
She nodded. ‘You have the right personality.’
‘I do?’ Julian seemed taken aback.
‘You like people. You get on with them. I’m sure they’ll all flock to your shop.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, suddenly looking abashed. There was a pause before Celeste began.
‘Julian?’
‘Yes?’
‘Your brother –’
‘Yes, I must apologise if he offended you yesterday. He can be a bit’ – Julian paused – ‘insensitive.’
Celeste looked at Julian, wondering if she was brave enough to say what she wanted to say next. ‘I was going to ask you about him,’ she began tentatively. ‘He reminded me of someone.’
‘Really?’
She nodded.
‘Who?’ Julian prompted.
Celeste took a deep breath. ‘My mother,’ she said.
‘Ah,’ Julian said. ‘She had a personality disorder?’
Celeste frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Miles – my brother – he suffers from a personality disorder although he’d knock me into next week if I suggested such a thing to him. It’s called Narcissistic Personality Disorder – to give it its full, grand title. It’s a spectrum disorder which has all sorts of traits – some stronger than others. Basically, he’s like the most self-absorbed person you can think of, only a hundred times worse. He finds it hard to empathise with other people and can turn on you at a moment’s notice if you’re not giving him what he wants.’
Celeste blinked. ‘That’s all sounding awfully familiar,’ she said. ‘You say this is a recognised disorder?’
The Rose Girls Page 17
