Chapter Forty-Two
With a start, Clem’s eyes opened and she knew she was awake. Leaning across, she switched on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with light. All she could hear was her panting breath; the screams of her sisters and the look of terror on Ari’s face as she and Leo were swept away under the raging torrent was nothing but a dream. For the past week, since she had returned from Norfolk, she had been plagued with this nightmare. Why couldn’t she remember the moment that they were dragged above the water level as the rope they were holding pulled them to safety? Why couldn’t she dream, instead, about the moment of relief, the love and the hugs? She just seemed to be in a loop, stuck on that moment of terror.
She knew what was coming next and threw back the covers, running to the bathroom, where she threw up. Blearily, she stood up and looked in the mirror, wondering how her tired face failed to display the fear surging through her body. Brushing her teeth, she decided it was time to get up. Even if she could get back to sleep she didn’t want to. She didn’t think she could cope with her sleeping nightmares. Instead, she headed downstairs to her waking one.
Today the lorry was arriving to take her collection to London. Her show was in forty-eight hours and everything hinged on that. By the time that was done she would either have established herself as a viable designer or dragged her family into shame and embarrassment, if the painting switch went wrong. Aster had assured her it was all under control; Otto had assured her it was all under control. Clem felt her stomach turn alarmingly; nothing felt under control.
She picked up her phone and headed downstairs. It was four am and even the cats hadn’t stirred. Heading into the ballroom, she flicked on the lights and started bagging and boxing the outfits. Giles at the VA had sent up archival packaging for the historic outfits and had sent enough for all of Clem’s collection as well. Now she gently began to package up jackets and trousers, skirts, slippers and dresses. As she wrapped up Mari’s train, she smiled, remembering the fun of that evening. The noise, the laughter, the dancing, all the colours swirling in a glorious celebration of family and community.
‘Good morning.’
Clem jumped and turned around to see Otto standing in the doorway; like Clem she was also wearing her dressing gown. Otto’s was a plain woollen house coat with a simple braided cord belt. Clem was still wearing the silk banyan robe that she had found a few months ago.
‘I guess you couldn’t sleep either. I’m going to make a coffee, join me?’
Clem nodded and said she would just finish labelling this bag and join her in the kitchen.
***
As Clem sat down at the kitchen table, Otto looked at her and sucked her teeth.
‘Merde. Have you even slept? You look terrible.’
Clem started laughing and then found she couldn’t stop. Eventually, Otto slapped her hand on the table, handed her a sheet of kitchen roll and placed a mug of coffee in front of her.
Clem gulped, then wiped her face and took a steadying drink.
‘Now, tell me what is wrong. This is more than nerves, I think?’
Taking a deep breath, Clem told Otto about the near disaster at Hiverton and then went on to explain her fears about the art swap and that she also felt terrified that her collection was going to be a massive failure.
‘What if I’m rubbish?’
Otto sipped her coffee as she listened to the young girl. She had watched her arrive, brash and confident, full of energy and certainty; Otto recognised a crisis of artistic confidence when she was looking at it, but she wondered if there was more to it.
She had underestimated Clem’s intense sense of family and loyalty, and as she had spent time with Aster, Otto had begun to understand more of what drove Clem. The way Aster told it, Ariana and Clementine had stood shoulder to shoulder against the bureaucracy of the British social services. At just eighteen and sixteen they fought to keep their little family together despite the grief of having just lost their parents.
As Aster pointed out to her, the fact that Clem had decided to protect and shelter Otto meant a lot to Aster. It meant that Clem viewed Otto as important, if not family. And although Otto had already become protective of Clem and her spiky aggressive ways, she saw them for what they were. Clem had fought for everything; it was just her way. Now she just seemed vulnerable.
‘Your clothes are exquisite. Why do you think they are no good?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ mumbled Clem.
‘So I don’t understand your concern?’
‘It’s silly. I know I’m good. It’s just I got played for a mug with my first collection. And I’ve pinned all my hopes on this collection launching me. Like I did last time.’
And then the whole sorry, messy story of Symeon’s deception came tumbling out. It was clearly the first time that Clem had told anyone, and when Otto asked why she hadn’t confided in her sisters, she explained how embarrassed she was.
‘I don’t read well. I guess you’d call it dyslexia but I’ve never been tested. So I didn’t read the document. I just trusted him and signed it.’
Otto was shocked. ‘But even when you realised he stole your collection, surely you could overcome your embarrassment to tell your sisters?’
‘Because apparently there’s also a gag order in the contract. I shouldn’t even be talking to you about it. When I challenged him, he told me that if I did, he would take me to court and all the other young designers he had worked with.’
‘But you are Lady Clementine de Foix. You are not without resources in a court case.’
‘You forget, then I was just Clemmie Byrne, penniless and orphaned. Powerless and friendless.’
Otto tutted in disgust. ‘This man is a thief. A filthy bottom-dwelling leech.’
Clem raised her mug wearily in a mock salute. ‘You’ll get no argument from me.’
‘May I see the contract? Can I see if you have any case to appeal?’
To Otto, this tale of duplicity stank. It was the pattern of lesser individuals throughout the centuries to spot the talents of emerging artists and steal their works. Otto had witnessed it time and time again and it made her angry to think that Clem had been equally abused.
Clem paused and then laughed weakly. ‘Hell, we’re swapping over a painting in the VA! I think showing you a contract is the lesser issue. In for a penny, in for a pound. My life of crime continues.’
Despite her laugh, Otto was not reassured. All this weight on her small shoulders, no wonder she looked so broken. She was trying to protect her big sister, save Otto’s reputation, salvage her career and avoid public humiliation for the entire family.
‘We will prevail. Take heart. I know you don’t want to know about the swap but, rest assured, we will not fail. It will be almost embarrassingly easy. Now, wipe your face and get back to work. The day is breaking and we have a lot to do.’
Rapping her old knuckles on the table, she watched as Clementine took a deep breath and pulled herself together.
***
Four hours later and Otto’s calming words had faded and Clem’s tension was beginning to mount again. Earlier, she had handed the contract to Otto but had little hope of anything coming of it. What was the point in getting your hopes up? Despite Otto’s words, Clem was losing her sense of balance. The castle was full of staff and delivery drivers all moving around packing everything up. Duncan had proved to be a lifesaver, and she was going to take him on permanently as her secretary if he was up for it. Given how great he had been in organising everything and liaising with everyone, she thought he would be.
She walked back into the ballroom and saw a group of the removal men standing around, laughing and drinking, and her temper snapped.
‘Is that a can of Coke? Are you fecking stupid!’
The room fell silent and the man stopped drinking, looking worriedly at his colleagues.
From behind her, Clem heard Rory’s voice.
‘Clem, calm down, that’s no way to speak to anyone.’
Turning, she looked at him in fury. What right did he have to tell her how to behave? This was her home and her career.
‘I’ll speak how I want. They’re being paid to do a job, not screw it up. What the hell are you doing here anyway?’
Rory stepped back in the face of her furious onslaught. The last time he had seen her had been up on the hilltop refuelling her car. He had just told her his grandpoppa was the Laird and her face had been priceless.
He had been certain that they had a connection. He certainly did, but she was mercurial, he wondered if she ever stopped to consider how she was feeling, or did she just run with her emotions, never once stopping to reflect? Now she was in a fury and displaying deeply unpleasant behaviour to those around her.
‘Oh whatever,’ she said, fed up with waiting for him to reply. She turned back to the removers. ‘Go to the kitchen, pour those drinks away, wash your hands then get back in here; this all needs to be in London this evening.’
The minute the lorry was on the road, Clem would fly down to London and meet Giles Buckley. They would then be ready to unload the collection in the museum’s handling bay, ready for the following day’s fittings. The gallery would be closed for the day whilst the runway was set up. After the show, teams would work through the night dismantling the stage and having the gallery ready for the public the following working day. Clem’s original pieces would be sent back to Scotland and the historic pieces would be kept at the museum for a planned exhibition sometime in the future.
Relieved that the sticky, fizzy drinks had been removed from the workspace, she ignored Rory and headed off towards the kitchens to grab some food.
A few minutes later, just as she was cutting some cheese, she recognised the familiar beat of drum and base coming from her speakers in the ballroom. Incandescent, she ran back. Why were these removers incapable of working to a professional standard?
Storming back into the room, she saw that Rory hadn’t left and was in fact laughing with the workmen.
‘Who’s listening to music? You’re supposed to be working!’ shouted Clem.
Rory looked at her, trying to understand her behaviour.
‘I turned the music on. I thought you’d like it, help calm you down?’ The minute he said ‘calm down’ he realised his mistake, as Clem started shouting at him instead.
‘Calm me down! Have you any idea what this means to me? This is my chance to show everyone what I am capable of. No one is going to take this from me. No one can say I was riding on someone’s coat tails. I’ve borrowed a huge loan from my sister and I have to prove to her that I can do this.’
She was practically screaming at him as Otto joined them.
‘Rory,’ she said, ignoring Clem. ‘How lovely of you to come over at such short notice. Shall we go to the breakfast room and get out of everyone’s way?’
Rory looked at Otto and took a deep breath. Her timing was perfect, as she had saved him from shouting at Clem. It was obvious that she was right on the edge. Shouting at her would have been stupid and boorish. Instead, he turned to Clem with a slight acknowledgement of his head.
‘Right. Yes, my apologies. You do have a lot on your plate. I shall get out of your hair then.’
Clem didn’t even wait to acknowledge him as she walked off and started to bag up her sewing kit for the running adjustments she would need to make tomorrow when the models arrived.
***
Finally, the lorry drove away down the drive. Clem checked her watch. Twelve o’clock, so far so good. Now she needed to get on a plane and head down to London herself. Tonight, she would try and sleep and tomorrow she would be surrounded by friends and colleagues from Central Saint Martins and the VA. Nick, Aster and Paddy would also be there, and just thinking about them helped to steady her nerves. She was desperate for Ari to be there but both she and Aster agreed that if the picture swap went wrong then Ari, as head of the family would have some distance from the scandal. She hadn’t told the twins about it either, the fewer that knew, the better.
All morning she had felt like throwing up and now watching her collection drive away she felt it all over again. Tomorrow, her collection might be greeted with polite applause, which was bad enough, but it was the painting switch that terrified her. A flush of heat suddenly swamped her skin, and she threw up violently on the drive. Panting, she waited with her hands on her knees to see if she was going to hurl again and then went inside to get a bucket of water to clean up.
As she walked into the hallway, she saw that Otto was waiting for her. She knew she owed pretty much everyone an apology for her behaviour this morning, but right now she wasn’t up to being admonished. Her head was thumping, and she’d had the last of the headache pills last night.
‘Not now, Otto. I’ve just been sick, and I need to clean it up.’
The older woman accompanied her to the kitchen and filled up a second bucket in silence and then followed her out to the drive, where they sluiced the water towards the drains. Still feeling shaky, Clem walked over to one of the benches, sat down and closed her eyes. Tomorrow, one way or another, this nightmare would be over. She wished to God that Ari was with her, but right now Ari was focussing, quite rightly, on the boys. Clem knew she needed to do this by herself and not let her big sister down.
‘Clementine.’
Clem kept her eyes closed as Otto sat down beside her. Clementine, this was going to be bad.
‘I am so very, very sorry.’
Clem turned her head in cautious surprise and looked at the old woman who was now looking at her sympathetically.
‘This is all my fault. I should have thought of a different way to deal with the painting. I was so used to this way of life, stealing and forging, that I forgot how it must feel to others.’
‘Do you think it will fail?’ Clem tried to keep the terror out of her voice.
‘No, I think it will go without a hitch. But I can see now just how much it has affected you. You have so much already on your plate, and you are full of fear for this event. And that’s entirely my fault.’
Clem leant back on the bench and let the sunlight warm her eyelids.
‘It’s not just that.’
‘I know. It’s launching your career. Proving to everyone you aren’t stupid. Showing your old boss that you are better than him. Not letting your sisters down.’
As she spoke, Clem suddenly sobbed and caught herself in a broken heave. She would not cry. She didn’t have time for that.
She took a deep breath, and Otto gently patted her on the knee.
‘Okay, you’re right, this isn’t the time or the place. Chin up. Now, we need to go get our flights. And you probably don’t want to hear this but Rory is coming with us.’
Clem blinked. ‘Why?’
‘Because he has business in London.’
‘Oh very well,’ sighed Clem. ‘But keep him away from me. I don’t think I can handle him right now. I owe him a massive apology but being around him just seems to make me second guess myself.’
At that moment, Rory pulled up in front of them, having brought his car to the front of the castle.
‘Ready ladies? Otto? Bo?’ He watched Clem nervously and realised that she had calmed down considerably.
‘Otto says you are coming to London?’ Clem knew she needed to apologise but she’d build up to it with some small talk first.
‘Yes, I’m on a mission for someone rather special.’
Clem rolled her eyes. ‘If you say so. Janet didn’t strike me as all that special. Honestly, your taste is as bad in women as it is in nicknames. But I suppose it takes all sorts.’
Great, now she owed him two apologies, but right now, she couldn’t say right for wrong. She’d do better just to put Gaffer tape on her mouth.
‘Why are you smiling like that? Ugh.’
Clem turned on her heel and went inside to get her bags.
Otto looked at Rory speculatively.
‘Why did you let her think you were talking about Janet? You and I both know someone special is Clem.’
Rory continued to smile broadly. ‘I wasn’t sure if she was that into me. I thought I’d test the waters and see if I couldn’t make her a wee bit jealous. Now I know.’ He paused thoughtfully and looked at Otto. ‘Do you think I should tell her how I feel?’
‘Before her launch?’ Otto looked alarmed. ‘Absolutely not. She needs to be focussed.’
Otto went in to get her bags as well, and Rory started to whistle. He was tempted to mention Janet again just to watch Clem hiss and spit, but Otto was right. Clem needed to focus, besides which, he had his own work to do. Otto had called him to the castle to help and when she mentioned Clem’s plight Rory knew just what to do.