Victoria Connelly - The Rose Girl

by Unknown

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Slowly, noisily and expensively,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ he said.

  ‘But at least things are moving forward now.’

  ‘Will he be working on this room?’ Julian asked, getting up from her chair and moving around.

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘It’s a bit gloomy, isn’t it?’ Julian said.

  ‘But it’s in a pretty good state of repair compared to the north wing,’ Celeste told him.

  Julian nodded. ‘Probably just needs a bit of a rethink. It’s not really you, is it?’ He turned to look at her and she could feel herself blushing under his scrutiny.

  ‘It’s my mother’s study. She redecorated it after Grandpa retired and it’s not been touched for years.’

  ‘I thought as much. You really should make it your own,’ he said.

  Celeste looked thoroughly shocked by this assertion. ‘But this is my mother’s study,’ she repeated.

  ‘Not anymore,’ he said. ‘You’re the one working in here now. You’re running the show, so why not do that in a room that says something about you?’

  ‘I – erm –’

  ‘I think that would really help you move forward,’ he said. ‘If you don’t mind me saying.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ she said.

  ‘So how have you been getting on since we last talked? You must have had a lot to process.’

  ‘You mean about the personality disorder?’

  Julian nodded. ‘Have you looked into it at all?’

  ‘I’ve read a bit about it online,’ she admitted.

  ‘And did it help?’

  Celeste took a deep breath. ‘I feel like my mind’s a great big maze of memories at the moment and I’m trying to work my way through them. But, yes, some of the sites I found are helping me realise that there are other people who have gone through this too.’

  They looked at each other, their eyes seeming to share something beyond words, and Celeste realised that this man truly understood what she was going through.

  ‘Right,’ Julian said at last, clapping his hands down onto his knees before standing up. ‘I’d better get back out to Kammie. I’ve promised to take her to The Swan in Lavenham for dinner after a little jaunt to the coast.’

  ‘She’ll love that,’ Celeste said, thinking of the beautiful fifteenth-century hotel.

  ‘She’ll properly try to buy it,’ Julian quipped.

  ‘Well, I don’t mind if she does. Just make sure she buys our painting first.’

  Julian nodded. ‘I’ll have to take you there sometime,’ he said with a smile that made his eyes shine. There was a moment’s pause between them. ‘Listen, I hate to rush off like this. There’s a hundred things I want to talk to you about. I’ll give you a call, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, smiling, as she realised she was already looking forward to seeing him again. She followed as he left the study and walked down the hallway towards the front door.

  ‘Is that your young man?’ Esther Martin said as she traversed the hallway, a cup of tea in her pale hands.

  ‘No,’ Celeste said.

  Esther looked unconvinced, but she didn’t get a chance to say anything else because Celeste returned to the study and shut the door firmly behind her.

  Evie had arranged to meet Lukas at the end of the driveway to Little Eleigh Manor at ten o’clock that night because she didn’t want her sisters knowing what she was up to. She also knew that that was the best time to put the plan into action.

  ‘The ladder’s over there,’ she said as soon as he arrived, pointing to the wall where she had propped it up.

  ‘And good evening to you, too,’ Lukas said, his lopsided grin managing to wind her up within two seconds flat.

  ‘There’s no time to have a full-blown conversation,’ Evie told him. ‘Do you want to help me or don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I want to help you,’ he said, and walked off to fetch the ladder. A moment later, Evie helped him to secure it on top of the van.

  ‘What exactly are we going to do? You’re not going to rob a house, are you?’

  ‘You said you’d help me,’ Evie said. ‘You said you’d do anything for me.’

  ‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t ask any questions.’

  ‘Well, I’d rather you didn’t.’

  Lukas sighed. ‘You can be very trying, Evelyn Hamilton,’ he said.

  ‘Just get in the car,’ she said.

  Evie drove through the dusky landscape. She put the radio on in the hope of avoiding conversation but Lukas just wouldn’t shut up.

  ‘I walked around the Lake District for a bit and visited Brantwood. Have you been there? It was the home of John Ruskin and they have loads of his paintings there. And you should see the views!’ He whistled, startling Evie. ‘You’d love it, Evie. We should go up there some time.’

  She glared at him. ‘I’ve not got any plans to leave Suffolk,’ she said.

  ‘But you should. Everyone should travel.’

  ‘I went to Norwich once and didn’t like that very much,’ she said, totally po-faced. ‘Sudbury on a market day is bad enough.’

  Lukas laughed.

  ‘I don’t know why you find it so funny. I’m happy here,’ she said. ‘Suffolk’s my home. It’s where my family have been for three generations. Why should I go anywhere else?’

  He nodded. ‘That’s wonderful, and I envy you that. I’ve never really had a home. My parents were always moving around with my dad’s work and I never got a chance to settle anywhere. Whenever I arrange to visit them, I have to ask for their address.’

  Evie didn’t say anything but couldn’t help thinking about her beloved bedroom at the manor, which she’d had since she was born. It must be strange and disorientating not to have a home – a real home – to come back to, she thought. Even when she’d gone to college, she’d always come back home each night. She couldn’t imagine being away from it and that was one of the reasons she was so terrified now that Celeste had started talking about selling the manor.

  Turning in to a village, Evie slowed the van down and turned into the driveway of Oak House.

  ‘What are we doing here, then?’ Lukas asked, as Evie switched the engine off and they sat in the darkness.

  ‘My dad and his wife are out this evening,’ she said.

  ‘So I’m guessing you didn’t want to see them?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ she said.

  ‘Okay,’ Lukas said, taking a deep breath. ‘You’re beginning to scare me.’

  ‘There’s nothing to be scared about,’ Evie said as she got out of the car. ‘It’s a well-detached house.’

  Lukas joined her at the back of the car. ‘Evie – tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Grab that ladder.’

  ‘Not until you tell me what you’re doing,’ he said firmly, his face half-lit by the light from a street lamp.

  Evie looked annoyed but realised that she’d have to tell him sooner or later. ‘I need to get into one of the rooms upstairs,’ she said, strapping a large rucksack onto her back.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because there’s something in there that belongs to our house. Something my dad’s wife stole from us.’

  ‘Why can’t you talk this through with your dad?’

  ‘Because he won’t believe me – he’ll take Simone’s side. You don’t know her – she’s sly. She manipulates people, and I’m going to get that painting back. Dad always leaves his bedroom window open. I’ll be in and out in no time with the painting.’

  ‘Are you crazy? You can’t do that!’

  ‘Why not? It’s our painting.’

  ‘But what if your dad rings the police or something when he finds it’s gone?’

  ‘He won’t even know it’s gone, and Simone wouldn’t dare ring. She’ll know what’s happened and she won’t make a scene.’

  Lukas shook his head. ‘This is just wrong, Evie. You can see that, can’t you?’

 
; ‘It’s not wrong. I’m undoing a wrong, and if you don’t want to help me, I’ll do it alone,’ she said, reaching for the ladder.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Lukas said, spurred into action. ‘Let me do it.’

  He undid the ladder and Evie marched across the driveway towards the back of the house where the bedroom window was. The garden wasn’t overlooked by neighbours and was in total darkness apart from a tiny pool of light cast from a lamp that had been left on in one of the downstairs rooms.

  ‘See – the window’s open,’ Evie said as Lukas leaned the ladder against the wall.

  ‘It’s too risky,’ he said. ‘I think you should forget this whole thing.’

  ‘No way,’ Evie said. ‘That painting is going to be hanging in our living room before midnight.’

  Lukas ran a hand over his jaw and then scanned the garden as if he expected a policeman to step out of the shadows.

  ‘Well, let me do it if you really mean to go through with it.’

  Evie shook her head. ‘No, I want to. It’s my idea. I should do it. Just keep this ladder steady.’ She dug into her pocket and brought out a little black beanie hat. ‘I’m too blonde to be a burglar,’ she said as she squashed it over her hair. Her hand then returned to her pocket again and brought out a torch which she switched on and handed to Lukas.

  ‘Are you all right with heights?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m fine with heights,’ she told him, scurrying up the ladder like a pro.

  Once she’d reached the window, she popped her hand through and pushed it open. She was lucky it was a large modern one, which made it easy to enter, but she hadn’t remembered the dressing table next to it and crashed into it a moment later.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Lukas cried from outside.

  ‘I’m fine!’ Evie whispered back, her head out of the window. She turned back into the room and switched a lamp on, then crossed to where the painting hung. ‘You are coming home with me,’ she said, taking it off the wall and wrapping it in a hessian bag she’d brought with her, before placing it in her rucksack and returning to the window. She heaved the bag onto her back and switched the lamp off.

  ‘Have you got it?’ Lukas whispered from the ground.

  ‘Yes – now hold this ladder still,’ Evie said as she worked her way out of the window, careful not to knock the dressing table.

  It was when she looked down the length of the ladder that the trouble began.

  ‘Oh!’ she cried.

  ‘Evie?’

  ‘I . . . feel . . . dizzy . . .’

  ‘Hold on!’ Lukas said as he dropped the torch, and she heard the sound of his feet on the steps as he climbed towards her.

  ‘I don’t feel great,’ she said.

  ‘It’s okay. I’ve got you,’ he said a moment later and she felt his arms around her. ‘Can you move?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she said honestly.

  ‘Let’s just try things slowly. I’ve got you safe. Don’t worry.’

  They moved at the slowest pace imaginable, the sound of Evie’s nervous breathing audible in the silent night.

  ‘We’re nearly there,’ Lukas said a moment later as he felt the safety of the ground beneath his feet and helped Evie off the ladder. ‘You okay?’

  She nodded. ‘I didn’t know I had vertigo,’ she said. ‘I was fine on the way up.’

  Lukas picked up the torch and switched it on, and she saw that he was smiling gently at her.

  ‘You scared me to death,’ he said, and that’s when she fainted.

  24.

  Celeste was in the living room at Little Eleigh Manor when there was a series of loud bangs on the front door. Frinton, who’d been lying on his back by her feet, snoring sonorously, was up in an instant, charging across the hallway like a bullet leaving a gun. Celeste looked at the clock. It was after eleven. Perhaps it was Evie and she’d forgotten her key again, although it was a bit early for Evie after a night out.

  She crossed the hallway to join Frinton at the door.

  ‘Evie?’ she called through the thick wood.

  ‘Yes,’ a male voice answered and Celeste opened the door.

  ‘Who are you?’ she cried a moment later as she saw her sister slumped against a young man’s shoulder. She shushed Frinton, who was barking in excitement at the late-night visitor.

  ‘I’m Lukas.’

  ‘What’s happened to Evie? Is she drunk?’

  ‘She fainted,’ Lukas said. ‘She fainted!’

  ‘Oh, my God, Evie!’ Celeste was beside her in a moment, her arm around her sister’s shoulders.

  ‘She went to get the painting,’ Lukas tried to explain as they brought Evie into the hallway.

  ‘What?’ Celeste said. ‘QUIET, Frinton!’

  ‘The painting at your father’s house. I told her she was a fool to even think of pulling such a stunt but she insisted on going through with it.’

  ‘But she told me she was going to Colchester to see a friend,’ Celeste said.

  ‘She wasn’t going to Colchester,’ Lukas said.

  ‘Evie!’ Celeste cursed. ‘Let’s get you up to bed, where you should have been in the first place at this time of night.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Gertie said, appearing in the hallway. She was wearing a long red cardigan over her nightdress and looked as if she’d been asleep. ‘What’s wrong with Evie?’

  ‘She fainted!’ Lukas said, and he told Gertrude what had happened that evening.

  ‘Vertigo? I didn’t know she had vertigo,’ Gertie said.

  ‘Neither did she until she was at the top of the ladder, on the way back down,’ Lukas said. ‘I’ve never been so scared in my life. When I think of what might have happened . . .’ His voice petered out into nothing.

  ‘Let’s just get her upstairs,’ Celeste said.

  ‘I can do it myself,’ Evie said. It was the first time she’d spoken since arriving home, but Celeste wasn’t convinced.

  ‘You’re weak and in shock,’ Celeste told her. ‘Gertie – do you want to get her some hot milk? Maybe a splosh of brandy in it?’

  Gertie nodded and left them.

  When they finally made it to Evie’s room, they helped her off with her shoes and eased her gently into bed.

  ‘Better?’ Celeste asked.

  ‘I got the painting, Celly,’ Evie said in a whisper, her bright eyes half-closing in the lamplight.

  ‘We’ll talk about that in the morning,’ Celeste told her.

  ‘Aren’t you pleased?’

  ‘I’m pleased you didn’t break your neck,’ Celeste said.

  Evie closed her eyes and Celeste turned to Lukas. He was still looking pale and shaky, his fair hair sticking up at weird angles around his face as if he’d been electrocuted.

  ‘Perhaps we should get you a splosh of brandy too,’ Celeste said.

  ‘I wouldn’t say no,’ he said, sitting down in an old armchair by the window. Like Celeste’s bedroom, the room had sloping floorboards covered in an ancient and threadbare rug. Its walls were of oak panelling and the curtains, although of good quality, had long since had their heyday. Still, the room was very much Evie and you could see her touches everywhere, from the stuffed teddy bears and old ragdolls who sat in a happy jumble on top of a blanket box to the line of make-up bottles and hair dyes on her dressing table.

  Gertie entered the room with a mug of warm milk.

  ‘There’s just a smidgeon of brandy in it,’ she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing it to Evie, who sat up after Celeste had plumped her pillows behind her.

  ‘Is Esther there?’ Evie asked.

  ‘Esther?’ Celeste said in surprise.

  ‘I want to see her.’

  ‘Whatever for?’ Celeste asked. ‘She’s probably in bed. It’s very late.’ Evie didn’t answer as she sipped her hot milk so Celeste left the room. ‘Keep an eye on her,’ she said to Gertie. ‘And I’ll get you some of that brandy,’ she told Lukas.

  Celeste went downstairs, Frinton follow
ing close behind her.

  ‘You can’t come with me,’ she told the dog, sending him into the living room, where he reluctantly curled up with a half-eaten toy for company.

  ‘Esther?’ Celeste called a minute later, knocking gently on their new house companion’s door.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Celeste. Evie’s calling for you. She’s not feeling very well.’

  A moment later, the door opened and there stood Esther, her white hair loose around her shoulders and her face just as pale. She was wearing an enormous brown woolly cardigan that swamped her tiny frame and gave her a teddy bear-like appearance.

  ‘I hope I didn’t wake you,’ Celeste said.

  ‘Pah!’ Esther said. ‘I don’t sleep until at least one o’clock. Let me see Evie.’ She charged out of the doorway and headed for the stairs. She could move surprisingly quickly when she wanted to.

  ‘Which room is it?’ she barked when she’d reached the top of the stairs.

  ‘On the left,’ Celeste said. ‘The open door.’

  Celeste followed her in a moment later.

  ‘Esther?’ Evie said from the bed, her eyes opening and a small smile spreading across her face.

  ‘I’m here,’ Esther said, taking Gertie’s place on the side of the bed. Gertie exchanged looks with Celeste. What was happening, they seemed to ask? Why had their sister asked for Esther, of all people? She didn’t even like her, did she? She was scared of her.

  ‘Lukas? Come and have that brandy,’ Celeste said. ‘I could probably do with one myself.’

  He stood up. ‘You all right now?’ he asked Evie.

  She nodded. ‘Thank you,’ she said and he smiled before leaving the room with her two sisters.

  Evie and Esther were left alone.

  The old woman leaned across the bed to pick up Evie’s hand just as Evie had known she would. It was a simple but deeply comforting gesture and Evie immediately felt at peace.

  ‘You’ve got yourself in a right state, haven’t you?’ she said. ‘What happened?’

  Evie took a deep breath and told her about the evening.

  Esther shook her head. ‘You risked your life for a painting?’

  ‘I didn’t risk my life,’ Evie said with a tut.