by Susan Lewis
Loving her mother as much as she did, it could easily break her heart to think of her pain, which was why she rarely allowed herself to do so. For a long time as a child she’d thought she was to blame. She knew now that Simon and Becky used to feel the same way, until their father had patiently and lovingly made them understand that all they ever brought their mother was happiness.
‘Even when I’m naughty?’ Sarah remembered asking, and her father had laughed and hugged her.
‘Especially then,’ he’d told her.
For a while after that Sarah had been deliberately naughty, and when her mother had asked why, five-year-old Sarah had answered, ‘To make you love me more.’
How moved and delighted her parents had seemed with that answer.
Feeling the loss of her father and son starting to overwhelm her, Sarah took a tremulous breath as though to stifle the grief with air. She’d wondered several times over the years, but especially since losing Jack, if maybe her parents had lost a child too and that was why her mother was often so sad. But if that had been the case, why on earth wouldn’t anyone have told her, particularly since she’d lost a child herself?
To her mind there could be nothing worse than being a parent one day and not the next. The loss was a terrible, wrenching, physical pain; the panic and helplessness were like a fever, burning, consuming, relentless and cruel beyond compare. Her arms were heavy with emptiness; her heart was crushed by despair. Nothing and no one would ever be able to replace him. No matter how many children she might one day have, he would always be her firstborn, the child she’d loved with all her heart, and whom she now yearned for with all her soul.
Where are you, Jack? she whispered silently. Are you with him, Daddy? Please tell me you’re with him.
She couldn’t imagine anything being worse than this endless silence and suffering, but maybe something was – and whatever it might be, maybe it had happened to her mother.
‘Hello, Cromstone Auctions,’ Lucy said cheerily, while tucking the phone under her chin to carry on replying to emails.
‘Lucy? It’s Michael Givens here.’
‘Michael,’ she responded, feeling a quick catch in her heart. ‘How are you? Did you get my email about Eric Beadle?’
‘I did, and someone should have contacted you by now to request a copy of the solicitor’s letter.’
‘They have, and it’s sitting on the scanner ready for Maeve, our trusty assistant, to send when she comes in. So what do you think, in principle?’
‘It’s an interesting problem, but I’ll hold fire until I’ve got all the information, if you don’t mind. For now, I’m calling on behalf of Margie Brooks who has the gallery opposite … Well, you know where she is, it’s where I ran into you and Sarah a couple of weeks ago.’
‘Of course. Is everything OK?’
‘Perfectly, but Margie’s taken up a last-minute invitation to spend a couple of weeks in Venice, so she’s asked me to follow up on some of her outstanding business. As Cromstone Auctions falls into this category, I’m ringing to update you on the extra valuations you requested.’
‘You mean for the paintings Sarah sent over earlier in the week? And now you’re calling to tell me that one of them’s worth somewhere in the region of ten mil.’
Without missing a beat, he said, ‘Actually, Margie’s putting it at twice that, so I sense a celebration in the air.’
Glancing up as Maureen breezed into the office, closely followed by Sarah, Lucy turned away in case her cheeks were as flushed as they felt. ‘If only,’ she said to Michael. ‘So, starting with the portrait …?’
‘OK, apparently, if you can get a hundred for it the owner should consider themselves lucky.’
Lucy grimaced. ‘I think she was hoping for at least double that.’
‘I’m sure, but for some bewildering reason pastel portraits of Margaret Thatcher, even those signed by the artist, aren’t setting many collectors on fire these days. On the other hand, the watercolour you sent with it is apparently an early twentieth-century Noel Leaver, signed by the artist with an interesting label verso on headed paper which could fetch something in the region of five to six hundred.’
Lucy’s eyebrows rose. ‘Not bad. The owner put it at around fifty quid tops, so provided we find a buyer he could be in for a nice surprise.’
‘Margie’s left me the numbers of a couple of dealers she thinks’ll be interested. I’ll get my assistant to contact them if you like.’
‘That would be great, and I’ll post it on the website as soon as we’ve finished this call. I think I’ve photographed it – I’m sure I have. Anyway, this is very good news. Do you have the paintings? I hope she hasn’t gone off and left them locked up in her gallery.’
‘She has, but I have the keys.’
‘Excellent. So we need to work out a convenient time for someone to come and collect them.’
‘If you like, I can drop them off in about an hour. I have to go in to Bristol and Cromstone’s kind of on the way.’
‘It is?’ she said drolly. ‘Out of interest, which route do you take?’
Laughing, he said, ‘The one that takes me where I want to go – and by the time I get there perhaps you and Sarah will be able to tell me if you can make a charity polo match at the end of next month.’
Lucy’s eyes grew wide. She’d never been to anything as swanky as a polo match before, nor had it ever been on her list of must-dos. However, she was living a new life now, with a different sort of people, and if polo was their thing, then maybe it might be hers too. ‘I’m sure Sarah and I would love to,’ she told him, already hearing Joe accusing her of social climbing. ‘A charity polo match at the end of September,’ she informed Sarah.
Sarah blinked in amazement. ‘Who are you talking to?’ she asked.
Wishing Maureen weren’t around to turn her eavesdropping into gossip, Lucy said, ‘Your friend Michael Givens.’
‘I hope yours too,’ he said at the end of the phone.
‘Of course. It’s just that … Anyway, I think Sarah’s definitely up for it.’ She raised her eyebrows at Sarah, who nodded vigorously.
‘Excellent,’ Michael declared. ‘Maybe we can get Simon to join us too.’
‘We can but ask. Incidentally, has Sarah let you know what you’re doing for the Cromstone summer fete yet?’
She almost felt his double take. ‘I’m doing something for the summer fete?’ he echoed. Then, in a darker tone, ‘Why am I starting to feel worried?’
With a girlish laugh, she said, ‘I’m in no doubt you’ll be very good at it. In fact, we’ll probably film it for YouTube.’
‘Oh no, I’m liking this less by the minute. Exactly what has she signed me up for?’
‘Morris dancing.’
There was a moment’s stunned silence, before he said, ‘Please tell me I didn’t hear right.’
Grinning widely, she replied, ‘We feel that you’ll probably have a natural flair for it, and Sarah’s certain Simon will too, who’s also signed up. We’re making a rule that anyone who laughs at you will be fined a pound and all proceeds will go to charity.’
‘Then I shall hope the charity of choice is the Chipping Sodbury refuge for wounded egos.’
‘Perhaps not a worthy enough cause, but we’ll bear it in mind. Anyway, we’ll expect you in an hour?’
‘More or less.’
After ringing off she turned to Maureen, trying not to wish her a few hundred miles away. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you today,’ she said as cheerfully as she could manage. ‘How’s Godfrey?’
Maureen was not a happy-looking woman. ‘Being a pain in the proverbial,’ she snorted sourly, ‘but that’s men all over when they’ve got something wrong with them.’ Though her face was painted in its usual gaudy colours, even the make-up wasn’t disguising the dark shadows under her eyes. ‘I came in,’ she said, ‘because I know you’re up to your eyes and we don’t want to be messing up the valuations while we’ve got Eric Beadle’s solici
tor on our backs. Is your mum around?’
‘She’s gone to the mall with Dad. They’re leaving for Exmoor tomorrow, did she tell you?’
Maureen’s face was still as taut as the size-twelve top she was wearing. ‘Does she know about this Beadle nonsense?’ she asked, starting to flip through a pile of paperwork on her desk.
‘Not yet,’ Lucy replied, feeling unsettled by the fact that Maureen, all of a sudden, seemed to be worried. ‘I’m hoping we can sort it out without having to bother her.’ She took a breath, and decided just to go for it. ‘Tell me, have you ever heard of something called the Ring?’
Maureen’s head came up and her nostrils seemed to flare with disdain as she said, ‘Of course I have. Everyone in our business has. Why are you asking? Is that what you think’s happening?’
‘I don’t know, but we have to admit that it could be.’
Maureen’s puffy eyes were boring into Lucy’s. ‘Someone needs to go through the records to check what this solicitor’s on about,’ she declared. ‘I’ll do it myself when I’ve finished the valuations. How are you getting on with the catalogue?’
‘Quite well, I think. Sarah’s taken charge of it …’
‘Please tell me you didn’t just say that. She doesn’t have any experience in that area at all! At least you’ve been around the business for a while.’
Lucy glanced at Sarah who was standing close to the door, entering new information on to the whiteboard. Since her back was turned it wasn’t possible to know how she was reacting to being spoken about as if she weren’t there, but Lucy wasn’t liking it too much. ‘Actually, I’m working with her,’ she told Maureen, ‘and as far as I’m concerned she’s doing a fantastic job. I think you’ll agree when you take a look.’ Her tone was telling her that she’d better agree, though she didn’t imagine Maureen would be much swayed by subtext.
‘It has to be ready for the printer by the end of the day,’ Maureen reminded her.
‘And I’m quite confident it will be.’
With a small huff of doubt Maureen spun round and barged past Sarah en route to the door.
‘Excuse me,’ Sarah said quietly.
Maureen turned back. ‘Sorry?’ she demanded, her eyes flashing a challenge.
‘I said, excuse me. I was obviously in your way.’
Maureen’s face started to quiver, but to Lucy’s relief whatever cutting retort she was planning didn’t materialise, either because she couldn’t think of one, or because she didn’t quite have the nerve to deliver it.
After she’d gone Lucy heaved a weary sigh and was about to apologise on Maureen’s behalf when she realised Sarah was far more upset than she’d expected. ‘Oh please don’t let her get to you,’ Lucy implored, going to give her a hug. ‘She’s a monster, I know, worse than that even, but we’re a pair of human dynamos, you and me, between us we can handle her.’
‘Of course,’ Sarah said, desperately trying to swallow her tears. ‘I’m sorry, it’s not her really, she just caught me at a low ebb.’
‘Come and sit down,’ Lucy said gently, and pulling out a chair she eased Sarah into it and perched on the desk next to her. ‘Did you speak to your aunt?’ she asked. ‘Is that what’s upsetting you?’
Sarah nodded, and tried to make herself laugh. ‘It’s all such a nonsense,’ she declared shakily. ‘So many secrets, no one ever telling me anything, and now it turns out that my aunt’s as bad as the rest of them. I don’t think they realise how hurtful it is … It affected us deeply when we were growing up. I’m not sure my mother’s ever completely understood that. Now it’s happening again, they’re pushing me out, closing doors, refusing to answer questions and I guess I’m still too raw after Dad and Jack to be able to handle it … Oh Lucy, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t …’
‘Please don’t apologise,’ Lucy interrupted. ‘Just tell me what she said.’
‘That’s just it! She wouldn’t tell me anything, except that I mustn’t mention anything to my mother about John until she’s had a chance to speak to her first.’
Lucy’s eyes widened. ‘Well there’s an admission anyway,’ she murmured. ‘Clearly he was a part of your mother’s life, and by the sound of it a pretty significant one.’
Sarah swallowed as she nodded. ‘I just don’t get why no one can tell me … John says it’s my mother who should do it, my aunt agrees, but how am I supposed to make her now my aunt’s warned me off speaking to her? For God’s sake, what can be so bad that no one’s prepared to talk about it?’
Wishing she had some answers, if only to suggest what they could do next, Lucy took both Sarah’s hands and held them gently in her own. ‘Maybe we have to speak to John again,’ she said, ‘or to Philippa.’
‘But you heard what he said last night, and she obviously didn’t want to discuss it either.’
Lucy nodded. ‘I know, but … Well, we’ll work something out, I promise, because it’s not fair to keep you in the dark like this. You’re a grown woman, for heaven’s sake. And like you said, what on earth can be so terrible that they can’t tell you?’
Clearly relieved to have someone who understood, Sarah said, ‘I called Simon before coming here, but he must be in a meeting or on the Metro because I couldn’t get through, so I left a message for him to call back.’
‘What about Becky? Have you tried her?’
‘Not yet, I’d rather speak to Simon first.’ Taking a Kleenex from the box on Lucy’s desk, she blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry, I really am. I thought I had myself together before I came here, but Maureen barging into me like that … It’s so stupid … What does she think …?’
‘Forget her, because you’re right, she is stupid and ignorant and festering with resentment because she thinks her position has been usurped by a pair of nobodies. Well, it’s time she learned that throwing her weight around, either literally or metaphorically, doesn’t impress me one bit, and if she tries anything like it again she’ll be downright sorry.’
‘Oh, is that so?’ Maureen snorted from the door. ‘And exactly how are you going to make that happen, may I ask?’
Shocked at being overheard, it took Lucy a moment to recover. Then, in the coldest voice she could muster, she said, ‘Actually, no, you may not ask, but you can take what I said as a warning that I won’t tolerate bullying or insubordination.’
Maureen’s pencilled eyebrows went skywards. ‘Oh, listen to you, Miss High and Mighty,’ she sneered. ‘You can’t run this place without my help, not yet anyway, so if you want to keep things on track and not watch it all go down the pan like a giant turd I think you should mind your manners a bit, don’t you?’
Lucy was aghast. ‘How dare you threaten me,’ she seethed, her eyes flashing with fury. ‘If you’re going to hold your experience and expertise over my head like that, then maybe it would be best if you did go now.’
‘Lucy, no,’ Sarah protested.
‘I don’t need you to fight my battles,’ Maureen snapped at her. ‘I can handle the likes of her, and for your information, Miss Totally Up Yourself, I won’t be going anywhere until I’m good and ready.’
Lucy was hardly able to believe her ears. ‘Just because you’ve always helped Mum to run the place,’ she said, attempting to sound in control, ‘doesn’t mean she’ll tolerate the way you’re behaving towards me.’
‘I don’t give a damn what she will or won’t tolerate. She knows as well as I do that this place can’t function without me, and if you get it into your head to try and prove me wrong then mark my words, you’ll be the one who ends up sorry.’
Lucy’s face was turning pale. ‘What exactly is that supposed to mean?’ she demanded.
‘Take it however you like,’ Maureen retorted. ‘Just don’t think you can mess with me, because I’ve been round the block way too many times to end up shafted by the likes of you.’
Being so unprepared for this confrontation, Lucy was floundering for the upper hand. ‘I really think it would be best if you went now,’ she heard herself sayin
g.
Maureen snorted with disdain. ‘Oh you do, do you? Well, for your information I’m not going anywhere till I’m good and ready, and like it or not, there’s no way you can make me.’
Stunned by so much aggression, Lucy said, ‘But my mother can.’
Maureen’s lip curled. ‘Is that so? Why don’t you try it?’
Starting to quake with rage and frustration, Lucy said, ‘Why would you want to stay when you clearly find it so objectionable to be around me?’
Maureen only smirked.
Lucy glanced at Sarah, who appeared as shaken as she was.
Apparently deciding that now was the moment to savour her triumph, Maureen started to leave.
Before she could stop herself Lucy shouted, ‘Tell me, Maureen, how long have you been engaged in illegal practices?’
As Sarah gasped Maureen spun round, her eyes blazing with shock.
Already wishing she could take the words back, Lucy forced herself to meet the glare.
‘Would you care to explain that remark?’ Maureen snarled.
In spite of knowing what shaky ground she was on, Lucy’s pride wasn’t allowing her to back down. ‘Is there a ring operating here at Cromstone?’ she blurted.
Maureen appeared astonished, then her eyes narrowed craftily as she said, ‘And what exactly do you think a ring is, may I ask?’
Refusing to be thrown, Lucy replied, ‘I think you know.’
Maureen’s eyebrows arched. ‘What I know is that you could get yourself into a lot of trouble with accusations like that.’
Aware of how true that was, Lucy said, ‘I’m still waiting for an answer.’
‘Then this is it,’ Maureen spat, pushing her face towards her. ‘If you’ve got it in your head to try pinning anything on me, it’s your mother who’ll suffer,’ and spinning on her heel she stormed off across the courtyard.
Too shaken to continue standing, Lucy sank into a chair and tried to collect her thoughts. ‘Tell me that didn’t just happen,’ she groaned. ‘What was I thinking? Why did I let her get the better of me like that?’
Clearly just as shocked, Sarah said, ‘She goaded you into it.’
