Chapter 28
‘Let’s get out of here,’ Lara said, turning off the radio and reaching for the lamp switches. ‘I’ll light us a fire and I need coffee and a bacon sandwich. Then maybe we could watch a movie.’ She remembered Abby’s previous enthusiasm for films and she wanted to do something that would comfort her.
As they walked across the forlorn, wintry garden to the cottage, they did not talk about Abby’s tale.
Lara sensed that Abby did not want to dwell on her tragedy.
Instead, Lara told Abby about her visit to Dr Patil and all that she had learnt there: his reaction to Lady Porter’s drinking and hints about an illness (that he then contradicted); his laughter at the thought of his friend being blackmailed; and finally about the discovery that he had indeed left a message on her grave, saying ‘Forgive Me’.
In the course of this she described the paintings she had seen and explained that she would show Abby the photograph she had taken later.
When they were settled in what was becoming their usual places by the wood burner, Abby turned to Lara.
‘I know you feel that I let you down in the theatre, Lara. But there really is no one that can save you from Julian but yourself. You do realise that? It is like being addicted to a poison. People may tell you it is bad for you, but it is only once you realise the thing you are craving is disgusting, vile and repulsive…’ Abby accentuated each word with feeling, ‘…that you will no longer want it. If I told you to drink a glass of stagnant pond water you would not do so. And it is the same with Julian, once you can see just what a thoroughly unsatisfactory person he is, he will be no more appealing to you than that glass of pond water.’
‘Oh, I’m over Julian Armstrong,’ Lara assured her. ‘I’m ashamed and humiliated. But I’m certainly cured,’ she said grimly.
‘You once said you found it hard to get angry with Julian. Is that still the case?’ Abby was curious.
Lara simply laughed. Had Julian heard that laugh he might not have felt so relaxed as he headed off from a stolen half-hour with Pinky to meet Sebastian and Jessica for Sunday lunch.
‘I feel sure you will put Julian behind you and will fall in love with a much better man.’ Abby’s eyes rested speculatively on a stepladder that was propped at the end of the room among the urns and an old wheelbarrow.
Abby went on, ‘You are already on the way to a much better understanding with Becky,’ Abby paused, thinking that the same could be said of Sarah and Kate.
She did not articulate this, feeling that Lara might consider her too ‘managing’, a thoroughly unfair accusation that had been levelled at her in the past. She continued, her tone more subdued and serious, ‘However, there is one person above all who I would urge you to consider. I would gladly sacrifice everything I have ever owned or experienced for one last conversation with my mother.’
Lara felt a pang of guilt for the times she had put off calling her mum or cut their calls short.
However much she loved her mum she couldn’t help feeling she had let her down somehow, and that her parents disapproved of her choices.
Though thinking it through now, she wondered how much of that was going on in her head and not her mum’s.
She would make a point of contacting her later and follow up on her mum’s suggestion that she should come over.
Abby settled in her armchair and curled up.
She was wearing an apricot dress in fine merino wool.
It had gathered sleeves and a band of cream velvet around the hem and a matching velvet collar.
Abby had tucked a wool shawl in orange, pink and gold around her toes.
The flickering light from the flames had turned Abby’s chestnut hair bronze and Lara was reminded of a marmalade cat she had once had as a child.
‘We need to review the progress we have made regarding Lady Porter and plan our next course of action, but let us leave that until tomorrow. It is after all the Sabbath,’ Abby said, somewhat piously, snuggling down deeper into the chair.
‘Although I would like to look at the photograph of the painting,’ she said, leaning forward a little in her seat.
Lara got out her phone and held out the image she had taken.
When she had got back the previous evening – or rather, early morning – Lara had compared the image on her phone to the one online of The Lost Vermeer.
In some ways the composition was similar but there were major differences.
It was clear to even an inexperienced eye that the painting Dr Patil had inherited was not the Vermeer that had been stolen from a gallery in Boston.
Abby barely glanced at it. ‘I see,’ was all she said.
Lara eyed her suspiciously. ‘You weren’t expecting it to be The Lost Vermeer were you?’
Abby’s eyes were twinkling. ‘Well, I hardly thought it could be. But it is always best to check.’
‘You know something about it, don’t you?’ Lara accused her.
Abby sat back in her chair and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, wondering how much to tell Lara. ‘I think it would be correct to say that the Vermeer in question is not so much “lost” as… let us say that it has found a new home.’
‘Who’s got it? What happened?’ Lara exclaimed.
‘It is not really my story to tell,’ was Abby’s frustrating response.
‘It is a long story. So long and complicated that one might almost write a book about it.’ She glanced back at the image that was still showing on Lara’s phone.
‘It is clearly not the Vermeer in question, but there is no doubt the style is very similar. But that is neither here nor there.’ She glanced towards the TV screen.
‘You mentioned a film?’ There was a wistful but not unhopeful note to her voice.
Lara gave in. She was not going to get any more out of Abby and in one way, dismissing the painting did get rid of one motive for murder.
Although in the light of her conversation with Dr Patil the previous evening, there was still much to think about.
Lara’s head began to ache, and she thought Abby was right – it could wait until tomorrow. She reached for the remote control.
Abby sat up straighter in her chair, her eyes shining. ‘I do love films,’ she said unnecessarily.
As Abby had not been around since 1991 there were many to choose from. After scrolling through a number of options they decided on Moulin Rouge.
‘You’re going to love the tango scene,’ Lara told Abby. ‘I don’t suppose anyone danced the tango in your day,’ she teased.
‘Certainly not. Some even condemned the waltz as a man had to hold a woman so close. However, I was lucky enough to have been taught the steps to the Argentine Tango by Rafael Castelli in ’56.
Rafael was without doubt the most accommodating Haunter I have ever met.
In life he had been the younger son of a distinguished family of Argentinian wine growers.
’ Abby smiled mistily and Lara suddenly recalled her mentioning Rafael once before.
It was the only time she had ever seen Abby blush.
‘I may have mentioned to you that I am an accomplished dancer and do enjoy this form of exercise enormously,’ Abby added complacently.
Lara hid her smile. Abby was clearly back to her old self.
‘We were at the town residence of the Marques de Rossario in Buenos Aires where I was investigating his wife’s death.’
‘Of course you were,’ muttered Lara.
Abigail raised an eyebrow at her. ‘It turned out the Marquesa was poisoned by the Marques’s own mother. The old lady having taken exception to the young Marquesa’s enthusiasm for French cuisine. It was only Rafael’s intervention that stopped her from poisoning their new French chef too.’
Lara felt there was no answer to this so she shoved another log into the wood burner and pressed ‘play’ on the remote control. Abby settled down contentedly to watch the film.
Lara half watched the screen at the same time as taking up her laptop and her notebook.
She had some things that she wanted to sort out.
As the film played out, Lara added things to her list and searched online for what she needed.
She pulled her phone from her bag and sent and received a few texts.
At one point she stood up and fetched her basket from the kitchen as she wanted something she had put there.
At the end of the film, Abby sat back contentedly. She stifled a yawn.
Lara however felt invigorated. ‘I have a plan,’ she said.
Abby immediately got up, all signs of tiredness gone and started to walk about the room. ‘Excellent. I do so love a good plan.’
Lara smiled. ‘Right, first I deleted all of Julian’s contact details from my phone.’
Abby nodded her approval.
‘And then I texted Becky to reassure her that all is well with the jumper.’ Abby noticed that Lara was now wearing the jumper in question. She thought it suited her very well.
Lara continued, looking self-conscious, ‘I know it’s only a jumper,’ she said, looking down at her sleeves, ‘it wasn’t really about the jumper… it was just…’
‘I know,’ Abby interrupted her. There was no need to say more.
‘Anyway, Becky has texted me back to say not to worry, and that she might be in a bit late tomorrow.’ Lara frowned.
‘So I think that sounds like she’s okay,’ she said a bit uncertainly.
Trying to regain her previous enthusiasm Lara went on, ‘Then on Wednesday,’ Lara continued with her plan, ‘you and I are going to London.’
Abby could not contain herself and actually clapped her hands. She coughed. ‘Are we?’ she said, trying to mask her delight.
‘Yes we are,’ Lara grinned. ‘My mum’s going to come and help Becky in the shop,’ she did not look at Abby as she said this, ‘and then she’s going to stay over so she can have supper with us… with me,’ she corrected.
‘Perfect,’ Abby said simply. ‘What are we going to be doing in London?’
‘We’re going to do some serious shopping. If I have to go to this god-awful ball I’m going to make sure I look as good as I possibly can.’
‘Bravo,’ Abby responded, clapping again.
Lara reached down into the basket by her feet.
‘I’ve also booked a meeting with my old school friend, Fiona, who works at the V&A museum.
I’m going to ask her about Meissen china as ceramics is her area of expertise.
I thought I’d show her this.’ From her basket, Lara pulled a delicate china tea caddy.
It had a Chinese bridge scene on the front and the lid was decorated with colourful birds.
It was the extra item she had popped in her basket when choosing her vases from under the sink.
‘I wondered when you were going to get around to showing me that,’ Abby said serenely.
‘How did you know?’ Lara demanded. Before Abby could reply she answered for her, shaking her head, ‘I know. It’s a knack.’
Abby just laughed. ‘Lara McGregor, I said it was a fool who would underestimate you, and I stick to it.’