Epilogue
A bitter February wind whipped in off the Thames and stung our cheeks as we rushed across the esplanade to the stunning white-columned facade of the National Maritime Museum.
The new exhibition didn’t officially open until tomorrow, and tonight there was a gala event that I wasn’t sure I wanted to attend, but Alice had bought a dress especially for the occasion, so I had a feeling I was going whether I liked it or not.
We’d been offered the opportunity to take a look around before anyone else, and I’d immediately said yes.
I wasn’t sure how I’d feel watching other people press their noses to the glass to look at the jewelry, or reading the information about my mom and how she’d died trying to protect the collection.
Inside, we bundled out of our winter layers and left them in the cloakroom, then went straight to the doors of the newest temporary exhibition.
‘Oh, you’re here,’ the security guy said. ‘Good. Taylor has been waiting for you. I’ll let him know you’ve arrived. Go on in in the meantime.’
Both Alice and I had come here shortly after Wilson’s arrest, wanting to get the jewelry out of New York as soon as possible.
It had taken a couple of days to make contact with Taylor, one of the curators who had been talking to my mom back at the beginning of the year, firm up a plan and then book flights.
Since then, we’d been in weekly contact with Taylor and his team as he’d created the brand new exhibition.
One that told the story of Titanic’s first-class passengers, with Abigail’s jewelry and the saga of its discovery as the centerpiece.
Alice’s mom had agreed to loan the museum Abigail’s diaries, too, and the curatorial team had thrown a huge amount of resources into researching Abigail and John.
This would be our first time walking through the exhibition, and I blindly reached for Alice’s hand, needing her solid reassurance.
The first display was the Insect Brooch, on its own burgundy velvet cushion, encased in glass. Next to it was a digital screen with multiple pages to read through, but I was more interested in the small sign set off to the side.
THE INSECT brOOCH
Made by Peter Carl Fabergé, c. 1894
First owned by Alexandra Feodorovna, Empress of Russia
On loan to the National Maritime Museum from the personal collection of
Alice De Lacy Mulligan
This exhibition is dedicated to the memory of Corinne Walker
‘What do you think?’
I startled and turned round to see Taylor smiling at me nervously. He was tall and handsome, with light-brown hair cropped short, and an accent that I sometimes struggled to understand, especially when he was excited about something and started talking quickly – which happened a lot.
My throat was too clogged with emotion to give him a proper answer, so I just nodded.
‘It looks incredible,’ Alice said for me.
‘You’re both credited later on,’ Taylor said. ‘And of course you’re welcome to say something at the event tonight.’
‘Alice is going to do that,’ I said, finding my voice. ‘I’m not much of a public speaker.’
‘Great. The weather hasn’t put you off coming next year, has it?’ he asked with a grin.
I shook my head. ‘I’ll be here.’
Even though I’d left it shockingly late to apply, I’d managed to get accepted into NYU to major in Museum and Cultural Heritage Studies. I was pretty sure that a written offer to spend a year interning at the National Maritime Museum had significantly helped my application.
It turned out everything my mom had spent my childhood teaching me had value beyond the antiques trade.
Selling off the business to a competitor hadn’t even stung that badly …
they weren’t interested in the apartment, so I didn’t lose my home, and they even kept the name Walker Antiques above the door.
Apparently the name had brand recognition that they didn’t want to lose.
Mr Martinez even consulted with me from time to time, asking for my expertise when he had an item of jewelry that he wanted a second opinion on before he listed it for sale. As far as new neighbors went, he was a good one. And not a crook. Which was novel, but nice.
‘There’s been a lot of buzz about the exhibition,’ Taylor continued. ‘We’re really excited to have you both here. It brings everything full circle, you know?’
‘We do,’ Alice agreed. ‘Could you show us around?’
Taylor smiled at us. ‘I’d be honored. Come with me.’
Alice eagerly followed him into the exhibition, while I hung back, just for a moment.
The curators had done an incredible job of presenting the Insect Brooch – it glittered under the bright lights, its black-diamond eyes staring out from behind the glass.
It had come to represent so much more than just a piece of jewelry – it was the spark that had lit a fuse that caused a life-changing series of events.
In those dark days, living in my grandfather’s safehouse apartment while I had a long-overdue emotional breakdown, I never thought I’d find a way to reconcile myself with decades of family pressure, grief and my very off-kilter moral compass.
For so long there had never been an obvious right thing to do next – not until Alice, who loaned me her own moral compass until mine was fixed.
I didn’t know what else my life had in store, if Museum and Cultural Heritage Studies would lead to a lifelong career, or if it was just a stopgap before I found something else.
Alice had been right, though. It turned out that my mom had raised a tough kid – one who knew how to fight for what she wanted.
‘Kendra?’ Alice called.
‘I’m coming,’ I yelled back.
After all, these days I had something new to fight for.