by Unknown
As the light faded from the sky, Gertie came to the conclusion that he wasn’t coming. She’d checked her phone a dozen times but there was no message, and then she remembered their secret hidey hole. Jumping down from the wall, she walked through the ancient arched doorway of the church and made her way towards what once would have been the altar. There, about six inches up from the ground, was a hole half-shrouded by gangly weeds. A large flint had been placed inside it and Gertie removed it now and found a piece of paper, which she unfolded.
Couldn’t get a signal on my mobile so thought I’d leave a note in our secret place. I turned up early, hoping you’d be here too. S’s not been feeling well today so I can’t stay. Miss you loads. Love you. J xx
Disappointment coursed through Gertie. She wasn’t going to see him and she’d waited so long for today. She closed her eyes and, when she opened them, she realised that it was getting dark and that she wouldn’t have long to get home safely.
Leaving the ruins, she should have headed home straight away but something made her cut across a field towards the village, her feet unsteady on the hard ridges left by a tractor.
What do you think you’re doing? a little voice inside her asked.
‘I just want to see him,’ she replied.
Don’t be a fool. Go home!
But some mad need from deep inside her moved her towards the barn conversion at the end of the village. The lights were on and shone out of the huge windows as Gertie approached from the footpath. She could see quite clearly from the gap in the hedge at the back of the house and knew that she was well hidden in the shadows there. It was a ridiculous thing to do and yet she couldn’t stop herself. She just wanted a little glimpse of him.
She gasped as he came into view holding a huge ceramic bowl filled with salad which he placed on the dining room table before wheeling Samantha’s chair up to it. Gertie watched in envious wonder as James sat down. He was facing the window and Gertie wished with all her heart that he would sense her presence out in the darkening evening.
She watched as they ate. James was smiling. What did he have to smile about when he wasn’t with her, she wondered? He was always professing to be so miserable at home.
Perhaps he’s thinking about you, a little voice inside her said. She smiled, but she couldn’t help feeling hurt that he was with Samantha and not her.
And then it happened – Gertie watched as if the moment was happening in slow motion as James leaned forward in his seat and reached out to take hold of his wife’s hand, stroking it with his long fingers in a gesture so gentle and romantic that it brought tears to Gertie’s eyes. Was that the action of a man no longer in love with his wife? A man who was planning to leave his wife?
Gertie turned away, her mind fogged with confusion and her eyes brimming with tears. What was going on? He loved her, didn’t he? Not Samantha. He was always telling her that. Samantha was manipulative and cruel. She drained him of all energy. He’d told her that over and over again.
‘It’s you I love,’ he’d say but, seeing him with Samantha in the privacy of their home, she wasn’t at all sure she believed him anymore.
Celeste had been hiding in the study with the door firmly closed and the radio on in an attempt to keep out the noise of banging coming from Mr Ludkin and his son, who had made a brutal start on the north wing. It was a bit risky starting work on the renovations before the actual sale of the paintings but Celeste didn’t think they could wait any longer – not with a great gaping hole in the ceiling and the risk of rain damage, and Julian seemed quite sure that they were about to make a good sale with the Fantin-Latour, so there would be money in the bank before too long.
She was just thinking about looking up personality disorders on the internet when Evie charged into the room.
‘So what are we going to do, then?’ her sister asked without any sort of preamble. It was her usual way; she always expected people to be able to read her mind and keep up with her train of thought.
Celeste frowned. ‘About what?’
‘About the painting!’
‘What painting?’
Evie sighed and placed her hands on her hips in frustration at Celeste’s inability to understand what she was talking about.
‘The painting that Simone stole from us!’
‘Oh, that painting,’ Celeste said.
‘Don’t say you’d forgotten about it,’ Evie said, walking into the room and sitting down in their mother’s old chair.
Celeste swallowed hard. She’d have never had the nerve to do that and yet Evie looked completely unperturbed by her movement.
‘To be honest,’ Celeste said, ‘I hadn’t given it much thought. Where’s Lukas?’
‘What’s Lukas got to do with this?’ Evie said, and Celeste noticed that her sister was blushing.
‘Gertie mentioned he was back. I’d like to meet him.’
‘Well, he’s gone, okay?’
There was an awkward pause between them before Evie continued.
‘So, you’re going to let her get away with it, is that it?’
‘With what?’
‘The painting!’
‘It’s not a case of letting her get away with it,’ Celeste said.
‘No! I know what you’re like. You’d do anything to avoid confronting the old cow about this, and that’s so wrong, Celly!’
‘Then what do you suggest we do? We can’t just take it and I don’t think Dad would believe us if we told him. He’d probably deny knowing anything about it and the whole business would just leave a lot of bad feeling. You know what Simone is like – she’d twist this thing around and make us look like the guilty party.’
Evie shook her head. ‘I can’t believe you’re just going to leave it.’
‘I don’t think we have a choice.’
‘But that painting was our grandparents’,’ Evie said, knowing that that would hit her sister’s weak spot.
Sure enough, Celeste gave a weary sigh.
‘You want that painting back as much as I do,’ Evie told her, ‘and, if you don’t do anything about it, then I will.’
Evie was still fuming mad when she drove to Gloria Temple’s for a meeting with her wedding planner. She knew Celeste had a lot on her plate at the moment but she would have thought that a stolen painting would be a pretty big priority, especially in light of what the other paintings had been valued at. She shook her head as she drove through the winding countryside, slowing down to overtake a horse before turning into the immaculate driveway of Blacketts Hall. She took a couple of minutes to calm herself down, pulling her fingers through her hair, which was still the frightful shade of blonde she had dyed it.
Opening the door of the van, she stepped out into the sunlight and it was then that she noticed a young man standing by the great yew hedge, his back to her. But Evie recognised him all the same.
‘Lukas?’ she said.
He turned around. ‘Evie!’ he said, obviously thrilled to see her, which was more than could be said for Evie.
‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she said, her eyes doing their best not to take in his strong tanned arms but failing miserably.
‘I put an advert up in a few local shops and Miss Temple hired me,’ he said with a big grin that was far too cute to be ignored.
‘I thought you’d left Suffolk,’ Evie said.
‘What made you think that?’
But Evie didn’t get a chance to answer because Gloria Temple appeared. ‘Ah! Evie! Am I interrupting something?’ Her eyes drifted from Evie to Lukas. ‘Do you two know each other?’
‘Yes,’ Lukas said.
‘No,’ Evie said at the same time.
‘Oh,’ Gloria said. ‘How confusing!’ She clapped her bediamonded hands together. ‘Well, let’s make a start, shall we? Carolina is here and wants to quiz you about your beautiful flowers.’
There then followed an intense hour with Gloria’s wedding planner in which Evie was made to feel like the very lowest of
minions as Carolina droned on and on about what she was planning for Gloria’s big day.
Evie was sitting on a black leather sofa that faced the window overlooking the driveway, and she couldn’t help but notice Lukas halfway up the ladder as he trimmed back some foliage from the front of the house. He seemed to be all too aware of her presence, too, and caught her eye and waved. Evie rolled her eyes.
‘Evelyn?’ Gloria said.
‘Sorry?’ Evie said, her attention drawn back into the room.
‘Don’t you like Carolina’s suggestion?’
‘Oh, no!’ she said. ‘I mean – no – I don’t not like it.’
‘What?’ Gloria cried.
‘What?’ Carolina echoed.
‘I mean, I think a balloon arch is a wonderful idea!’ Evie said, seeing the two women’s faces relax. Evie sighed. She wasn’t a big fan of balloons, it had to be said. She thought them cheap and nasty and childish. At least, that’s what her mother had said about them but she wasn’t going to confess to that and so she smiled. ‘Balloons!’ she said. ‘Let’s have them everywhere!’
Once the meeting was finished, Gloria escorted Evie to the front door.
‘Isn’t Carolina absolutely wonderful?’ Gloria beamed. ‘I wouldn’t be able to operate without her!’
‘I would,’ Evie said under her breath, ‘quite happily.’
‘I’m so glad you two have met now. It makes me feel a lot easier about things. Of course, she’ll be here on the big day too, so make sure you liaise with her.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Evie said, hoping she wasn’t about to be struck down for lying as she shook Gloria’s hand. ‘I’ll see you on the big day.’
Gloria laughed. ‘Can you believe I’m going to be a bride again?’
Evie smiled. She could believe it, all right. She wondered if Hamilton Roses would be called upon to supply the flowers for the wedding that would no doubt follow this one in two or three years’ time, if the bookies were to be believed.
Lukas was still hanging around in that annoyingly persistent way of his as Evie made her exit.
‘I like your hair like that,’ he called from his perch halfway up the ladder.
‘I don’t,’ Evie said. ‘It was a mistake.’
‘You look like Marilyn Monroe,’ he told her, coming back down to earth. She smiled sarcastically at him. ‘You do!’
‘Well, I’m going to dye it a different colour soon so wave it goodbye.’
Lukas waved and Evie rolled her eyes at him. It was then that an idea crossed her mind.
‘Could you get a ladder like that onto our van?’
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘I’m just wondering.’
‘I don’t see why not,’ he said. ‘There’s a rack.’
Evie nodded and pursed her lips together. ‘Would you do something for me, Lukas?’
He took a step closer towards her. ‘You know I’ll do anything for you,’ he said.
‘Well, then,’ she said. ‘I might just have a job for you.’
23.
It was on a perfect English summer’s day in mid-July when Kammie Colton visited Little Eleigh Manor. Julian had rung Celeste in plenty of time so that she was prepared and, after Celeste had made sure the house was looking as good as it possibly could with half the roof missing from the north wing and dust everywhere, she took a walk around the garden.
The roses were looking their very best, and Celeste stopped by a small round bed full of Rosa Mundi which was flowering for all it was worth, its stripy two-toned pink petals fully open to allow its golden stamens to drink in the glorious sunshine. Summer really was the most wonderful season and Kammie Colton couldn’t have picked a better day to see the gardens, Celeste thought, as she nipped a dead rose head between her fingernail and thumb. It was a quick and simple movement that was done instinctively and almost without thought as she moved around the garden, but she cursed herself a moment later when she stepped off the path into a bed to nip off a shrivelled rosebud and caught her dress on an evil thorn of a Portland rose. She had put on a dusky pink linen dress that had been ironed the night before and hung in a room from which Frinton had been barred, and now she’d gone and snagged it.
She removed herself from the grasping thorns of the border and hoped that the little snag wouldn’t be spotted. It was too late to change now, though, for as she walked back round to the front of the house, she saw Julian’s little MG speeding along the lane. His roof was down and Celeste caught a brief glimpse of his passenger, who was wearing a pale blue headscarf and an enormous pair of sunglasses. Audrey Hepburn in the middle of the Suffolk countryside, Celeste couldn’t help thinking, quickly diving into the house so she could greet her visitor properly and make sure that Frinton was safely behind closed doors.
A few minutes later, Julian knocked on the front door.
‘How wonderful to meet you at last,’ Kammie Colton said after Julian had introduced them to each other. They shook hands, and Celeste couldn’t help but notice the absolutely enormous emerald ring Kammie was wearing. She was engulfed in a cloud of deeply sensuous perfume that had survived the open-top car experience.
‘Come in,’ Celeste said, leading them through to the living room, where she brought the afternoon tea through a moment later. Kammie had removed her headscarf to reveal perfectly coiffed hair in a shade of platinum blonde that Evie had been trying to master over the last few weeks. Celeste guessed her to be in her late forties and noted that she had the kind of ease and sophistication of somebody who was well travelled.
‘This is charming,’ Kammie said, leaning forward to take a china teacup covered in tiny rosebuds. ‘What exquisite cups!’
‘Everything is covered in roses here,’ Julian said. ‘It’s one of the first things I noticed when I came here.’ He caught Celeste’s eye and smiled at her as Kammie chose a perfectly cut sandwich to put on a matching plate.
‘And this room!’ she enthused. ‘How old is this place?’
‘Parts of it date back to the fifteenth century,’ Celeste told her. I’ll show you around later.’
‘I’d love that,’ Kammie said.
True to her word, Celeste gave a guided tour around the house after tea, carefully avoiding the room in which she’d closed Frinton and the one in which Esther Martin now resided. It would be very unwise to disturb either of them.
There then followed a slow walk around the grounds, during which Kammie Colton gave a series of appreciative gasps.
‘You know, in America, this is the kind of place we dream about when we think of England.’
‘We’re very lucky,’ Celeste said.
‘I love it. I love it all. Apart from that hideous north wing, of course,’ Kammie said.
Celeste watched her, wondering whether to comment, and then Kammie laughed.
‘It is a bit of a state,’ Julian said, joining in the laughter.
‘I guess your bad luck is my good fortune,’ Kammie continued with the bluntness of a true American.
‘I guess so,’ Celeste said with a vague smile.
‘Well, what can I say? I love everything. But I especially love the painting, don’t I, Julian?’
‘I certainly hope so,’ Julian said.
‘We’ve already discussed this and I’d really like to get things moving before I get back home.’
‘That won’t be a problem,’ he assured her.
‘Good,’ she said, suddenly sounding very businesslike. ‘I tell you what. I’ll go outside and wait in the car and give you a chance to talk things over with Miss Hamilton, okay?’
‘Of course.’
‘Miss Hamilton? It’s been a real honour to meet you and I can’t thank you enough for showing me around your beautiful home.’
‘It’s been my pleasure,’ Celeste said, shaking the hand offered to her and noticing the enormous emerald ring again.
Celeste and Julian watched as Kammie walked towards the car, fishing in her handbag for her enormous sunglasses
.
‘Shall we go to the study?’ he suggested.
Celeste nodded, her heart thudding in anticipation of his news.
Once the study door was closed behind them, Julian began.
‘Well, do you want to hear her offer?’ Julian asked. ‘Perhaps we should sit down first?’ She watched as Julian sat himself down in her chair and, not wanting to sit in her mother’s chair, Celeste perched on the side of the desk next to him.
‘Well? I’ve been on tenterhooks for hours. Are you going to bowl me over?’ Celeste asked.
‘I certainly hope so. She’s willing to pay half a million.’
‘Dollars?’
‘No! Pounds.’
‘Half a million pounds?’ Celeste said, her voice croaky with emotion.
Julian nodded and laughed. ‘It’s a good offer. Paintings of a similar size can go for as little as a couple of hundred thousand, but I think yours is definitely worth more and Kammie doesn’t want to mess around. She’s the sort of woman – well, you’ve seen – who knows what she wants and just wants to get the deal done, so she’s happy to pay perhaps a little bit more than it would go for at auction. It’s worth it to her. What can I say? She loves the painting. She told me she’s been waiting for a good Fantin-Latour for years now and she loves the whole story about you girls and the rose business.’
‘I don’t know what to say,’ Celeste said, shaking her head slowly.
‘If I was you, I’d say yes before she goes shopping in Hatton Garden and spies some jewels she likes more than your painting!’
Celeste suddenly laughed. ‘Yes! Of course I’m going to say yes!’
Julian grinned. ‘I’m really thrilled for you, Celeste.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Thank you for getting in touch with her.’
‘All part of the service,’ he said, opening his hands in a gesture that made her smile. ‘I’ll get the paperwork moving. We will, of course, have our commission from the quoted price.’
‘Of course,’ Celeste said, ‘but at least I’ll be able to pay Mr Ludkin something this month.’
