Chapter 77
They finished the bottle of wine and then opened another, which they polished off too. Given how they hadn’t eaten anything, the result was two very giggly women. Yvonne had a story to go with every painting. Some were so ridiculous that Daisy could barely believe they were true. Like the time Yvonne had gone to a hotel and her luggage had been swapped with that of a sheikh. When the baggage was sorted, he had tracked her down, and given her the landscape to ensure she told no one what was in his case, threatening her with a punishment worse than death if she did. Yvonne took the painting, though according to her, she’d never even opened the case, having realised from the tag it wasn’t hers. She didn’t tell that to the sheikh, of course.
There was another painting from a trip to Thailand, that of the train across the river Kwai and one of the Seine in Paris.
Every so often, Yvonne would yawn and take in a deep breath that caused her chest to heave, and Daisy would suggest they stop, but Yvonne wanted to keep going. Even when she finished telling Daisy all about the pictures hanging on the wall, she took several more out of the cabin, including a black and white photograph of a girl on a fishing boat, which Daisy tactfully suggested they swap out for the naked picture of Yvonne’s aunt.
It was gone midnight when they finally called it a night.
‘Thank you,’ Daisy said as Yvonne headed to her cabin. ‘And not just for the paintings. You really turned the day around. Thank you.’
‘You’re most welcome. Now, I should head to bed. I think I’m going to sleep well tonight. I haven’t drunk like that in a long time.’
When Daisy headed to her cabin, she picked up her phone. There was only one message from Theo. Another apology that he didn’t need to send.
With her heart strangely full, she pressed dial.
‘Hey,’ Theo said sleepily as he answered the call. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Yes, I just wanted you to know I really love you. Really, really love you.’
‘Are you drunk?’
‘A little bit. But I still love you when I’m sober. And I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘You do?’
‘Yes, but you have to wait.’
‘Okay, well, I’ll look forward to it.’
She could hear the sleepiness in his voice. The way he wanted the call to end, even though she would have happily chatted with him for hours.
‘We’ll speak tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
When she hung up the phone, Daisy had a feeling of lightness in her chest, which lasted until the moment she thought about her father’s paintings again. Everything else she could deal with. The invasion of her home. The theft of her own art. Even Shaun’s manipulation of her. All that she could get past. But Johnny’s work was something she would never be able to replace. Perhaps, she thought, she could ask Yvonne if there were any other people who might have had some of his work. Some people from the funeral, perhaps. It was worth a try. Even though she doubted anyone hoarded things like Yvonne.
Her plan was to ask Yvonne for a list of names of people she could contact during breakfast the next morning, and then she would fire off as many messages as possible during the day while they were travelling.
Even when morning rolled around and Daisy found herself swallowing several painkillers to combat the effects of the wine, the plan remained etched within her mind. There was just one problem – there was no sign of Yvonne.