Chapter Thirty
It had been a week since the death of Abdul and Clem’s change of heart about Otto and the painting. She had called Aster and had been in the process of explaining the problem, when Aster said she was on her way. The following day, Aster caught the early morning flight to Scotland, and as the two girls drove back from the airport, Clem filled Aster in on more of the details. Since then, she had seen little of Aster or Otto. Now Aster was due to fly home in the morning and Clem wanted to have lunch with her and see how things were shaping up.
Clem headed off into the garden to find Aster. As she approached the long beds, she was surprised to hear two women laughing loudly. As she turned the privet hedge, she could see Aster and Otto sitting on a bench, roaring with laughter. Clem stopped and watched as both of them spotted her almost immediately. Lapsing into smiles, Aster waved her over. It was with a start that Clem realised she had never heard Otto laugh before, and whilst she had, of course, heard Aster laugh on many occasions, she never laughed in front of strangers. Now as Clem looked at the two of them, she felt like a headmistress flushing out two naughty schoolgirls.
Otto stood up and, excusing herself, she headed back to the castle, humming a little tune.
‘She seems happy,’ said Clem thoughtfully as she watched her walk away.
‘I think she’s looking forward to her trip to London tomorrow.’
‘The two of you together in London. I wonder if it will survive?’ Clem smiled but there wasn’t confidence in it. ‘Is this a mistake? Do you think I should call the police after all?’
‘Call the police? Are you mad?’ Aster looked at her big sister in astonishment. ‘What will they do? They’ll boast about how they made an incredible arrest and unveiled a massive art conspiracy. They’ll tell the media. The BBC will run a three-part documentary; Channel Five will run a shocking exposé. The Mirror will run a gleeful piece about the state of the British class system. It will be a monumental clusterfuck, and we’ll be sitting at ground zero covered in shit.’
Clem pulled at a hang nail until Aster slapped her hand away.
‘How eloquently you phrase it.’
‘I’m not Ari and neither are you.’ Aster tucked her hair behind her ear and tapped her finger on the bench. ‘Look. This is a mess but one that we might be able to fix. Having your show in the same gallery as the picture is a godsend. But first I am going down to London with Otto to see what can be done, and I promise you, if I think this is not going to work I will let you know. Otto seems like a game old bird, but for me, this family comes first, always.’
Clem stretched her legs out in front of her and relaxed a bit. Aster was only twenty but had always seemed the eldest of the lot of them. Or rather she seemed to see the world differently. It was black and white, them or us. Clem couldn’t think who else to turn to, but she still felt guilty dragging her into this.
‘What about your studies? Will you be able to fit it in?’
‘Please,’ drawled Aster, ‘I’m so bored, I could do with a distraction.’
‘Second year students at Cambridge aren’t supposed to be bored. Aren’t you all supposed to be feverishly trying to write essays and prove how clever you all are?’
‘I don’t need to prove anything to anyone. I was thinking about asking if I could sit my finals this year and get on with some proper study, but I have to confess the whole “we’ve all become ladies” thing has derailed my plans.’
‘Does it bother you?’ asked Clem.
‘What, not having to worry about food or money? Not so as you’d notice.’
Both girls started laughing.
‘And Ari’s happier now as well, isn’t she?’ asked Aster, surprising Clem.
‘Of course she is. She was born to do this. But I tell you what, as good as this has been, Greg dying was the better thing, and you know it.’
Aster smiled and nodded in agreement. Ari’s marriage had been a disaster from almost the first day and only improved when Greg fell in a canal and drowned. No one had shed a tear.
‘I tell you what, though, you may need to find a new muse.’
Clem looked at her sister in consternation. Her muse was Paddy; what on earth was Aster talking about?
‘I reckon by the end of next year, Paddy will have hung up her modelling career.’
‘No way. She loves being a model!’
‘Not as much as she loves supporting the family. And now with Ari’s inheritance, she no longer has to do that. I think she’s going to start looking around.’
‘Ridiculous!’ scoffed Clem. There was no way that Paddy would stop modelling.
‘How much do you want to bet?’
‘Loser has to make the winner’s bed and do the dishes for a week.’
Laughing again, the girls shook hands and walked back towards the castle. Clem felt a little better about the situation with the painting. Now all she had to do was raise funds to save the castle, finish a wedding dress and launch a new collection at London Fashion Week. Easy-peasy.
***
Clem was dodging traffic on Inverkeshen’s High Street when her phone rang and she saw with surprise it was from Otto. Relations with Otto had thawed dramatically, but she had never received a call from her before. Aster had set the old lady up with a smartphone, and Clem had decided she didn’t want to know any more than that.
Otto had travelled down to London with Aster, and when she had returned, she was zinging. It was like watching a flowering tea bud unfold as it was placed in warm water.
‘Lady Clementine, a Mr Smith is here from the auctioneers. He says he has an appointment?’
Clem scowled in annoyance. Why had he turned up a day early? There was no way she could get back in time from Inverkeshen.
‘He’s not due today: the appointment was for Thursday. That’s why I’ve come shopping for extra thread today.’
‘I’m afraid it is Thursday today.’
Clem swore loudly, startling a disapproving woman who tutted as she passed her. Scowling at the woman, she checked her phone’s calendar and found that somehow it appeared to be in collusion with Otto. Nick would crown her if this fell through, having sorted it out for her. Otto’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘Would it be acceptable to you if Mr McKenzie drove the auctioneer to the train station to have a look in the shed? Then he can post you his report when he’s had a chance to do an evaluation? There’s no need for him to think you forgot. I can explain this was your plan all along.’
Clem sighed with relief; she was now in the final stages of getting the wedding dress finished and creating the rest of the designs for the show. It was incredibly difficult to remember anything else when she was so focussed on the collection. Thanking Otto, she hung up, and went off in search of some coffee beans. She had also noticed that Otto sometimes liked to wear N°5, so she decided to splurge and bought her a little bottle of Eau de Parfum from the department store as well as some peonies.
She was pinning her hopes on the locomotive being worth an absolute fortune and thereby giving her at least another year in the castle. Nick had once more expressed her concerns about short-term gains and had started talking about the accommodation idea again. Clem immediately zoned out. She would not have a solution foist upon her. Scotland was going t be her triumph.