Chapter 6
Leonard was an oddity – that was clear from the moment I saw him in the hallway in black leathers, a motorbike helmet tucked under his arm, those garish paintings a perfect backdrop to his style. But, like bees on a bloom or moths to a flame, the whole family seemed drawn towards him. Even Dorothy made an effort to talk to him, but I thought it may be an act, because I noticed the way she lost the bright look from her eyes when she engaged with him.
I guessed he was in his late fifties or early sixties and that sort of tallied with what I knew about him being the bride’s uncle. He had black hair stuck up at all angles, making him look a little deranged, which could have happened when he removed his helmet, to be fair. It looked as if it had come from a bottle though, because it didn’t match his eyebrows and was very solid in colour. He wasn’t unattractive, but had a swagger that was unappealing, as if he were on the stage. I held back while he greeted everyone and tucked myself into the corner of the hallway, my arms firmly around myself for support.
‘Welcome to Walstone Hall,’ he said with a large dose of self-assurance. ‘My gorgeous niece is to be married on Saturday and I have a week of activities, games and fun planned for you all. Caroline,’ he said, holding out his arms to the petite blonde woman. ‘Toby,’ he said to the man who had been playing the piano when I’d first walked into the music room, and the two stepped forward into his embrace. ‘It will be a very proud day for me – uncle of the bride,’ he said, theatrically and as if that were a prestigious role. I looked across at the rest of the group that I hadn’t been properly introduced to and guessed at Caroline’s parents. An older, blonder version of her daughter had hold of the arm of a man who didn’t dye his hair or look ridiculous, but was still clearly Leonard’s brother. He was the only one of the group who looked at Leonard with genuine affection in his expression. His wife looked somewhat wary, and Lavinia and Miles just smiled indulgently.
One other couple were present and looked to be Juliet’s parents – Miles’s sister, who I would describe as neat, with her fair hair pulled back into a perfect ponytail, and her husband. Juliet shared the colour of her hair with her father; it was a bright shade of turmeric, although his was cropped short and hers, she wore in a sharp bob with a blunt fringe. There was a lone young man too, the chap who was hanging around the garden and I tried to remember back to the potted family history that Lavinia had given me. I guessed the man had to be Caroline’s unattached brother.
They all took it in turns to hug or shake hands with Leonard and there was a general ripple of gratefulness for his hospitality. He didn’t even look in my direction and that was the moment I remembered I was staff. What I really wanted to do was eat my meal in the kitchen, perhaps with the cook, but Dorothy stepped my way to take my arm and pull me from my hiding place, and it was decided, I would be dining with the family.
The dining room was decorated in a style reminiscent of the 1988 film Beetlejuice – one of Chris and Alice’s favourites from their early teens – and I half expected the langoustines from my plate to leap up and attack me. In contrast to the classic, soft pastel tones of the music room there were black velvet drapes here and purple flocked wallpaper. The lighting was low, perhaps to create a cosy atmosphere, but as someone had closed the curtains on the bright evening sun, it was a little dark.
The artwork that hung on the walls could be considered kitsch. Not a term that I really liked as it sometimes had derogatory connotations. It referred, in my mind, to a piece that was quirky, witty and, perhaps, sentimental, but originally it was considered banal and showing a lack of depth when compared to those works produced under the umbrella of fine art. A little like the snobbery surrounding genre fiction compared to, so-called, literary. I had always kept my mind firmly open.
Leonard had several pieces displayed in clip frames reminding me of my children’s bedroom walls. There was A Friend in Need –the classic Cassius Marcellus Coolidge image of the dogs at the poker table – a couple of works by the American artist LeRoy Neiman, a Thomas Kinkade that my mother-in-law had on a jigsaw puzzle and Chinese Girl –Tretchikoff’s very familiar oil on canvas now rendered in glossy ink on poster paper. Leonard was making a point in this space, but I had no idea what it was.
I was tucked away at the end of the table next to Dorothy and trying to engage with the woman, but Leonard was holding court at the other end and seemed determined to involve the entire group in his conversation. He’d disappeared briefly and returned with his hair tamed. It was now slicked back with some sort of oily product and he’d changed out of his leathers into a white shirt with a simple black jacket and tight-fitting trousers.
‘So, Rufus, what have you been up to?’
He directed his question at Caroline’s brother and Rufus seemed to jump in his seat.
‘Um, a bit of this and that,’ he said quietly. ‘You know.’
‘I certainly do know, young man,’ Leonard said.
‘Rufus has been very busy working at the law firm,’ his mother said, throwing a dangerous look at Leonard. The expression if looks could kill sprung to my mind. But then the woman seemed to catch herself and her face transformed into the picture of serenity. She reminded me of a woman I used to work with many years ago. A mercurial person who was quietly known as Worzel Gummidge among some of the staff because no one would ever know which head she would have on when she arrived in the morning. I made a mental note to try and avoid Rufus’s mother and perhaps Leonard too. I’d just stick to looking after Dorothy and keep my head down. With that thought in mind, I refilled Dorothy’s glass of water.
Leonard nodded and smiled before turning his attention to the whole group. There was a small glass of champagne in front of each of us and Leonard picked up his and pushed his chair back. ‘This is a very special occasion,’ he said. ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of your collective company since the engagement party. To see all those I hold dear to me under my roof is marvellous.’ He paused for a moment and turned his attention toward Dorothy. ‘Sadly, not everyone could be here, though. How missed dear Philip is to us, myself especially. And it’s with this thought that I’d like you all to raise a glass: to absent friends.’
Everyone did exactly that, mumbling the names Philip, Dad and Grandad too, but I noticed that Dorothy put her glass to her lips and didn’t drink. When Leonard sat back down and resumed eating, Dorothy turned to me and began to explain the family dynamics in a whisper. She’d only just managed to say that Sandra and Paul were Rufus’s parents and that Paul and Leonard were brothers when Leonard’s voice boomed out again, making me jump.
‘And who is this beguiling creature at the other end of the table?’ he asked.
For the first time, Leonard looked directly at me and I felt a chill rush through me. He was smiling broadly, but I couldn’t help feel a sense of menace.
‘This is Gina, a friend who’s come to help me in my decrepit old age,’ Dorothy said, with a tinkly laugh.
‘Ah, a carer,’ Leonard said and I could feel Dorothy bristle beside me.
‘A companion, actually, but yes, I do need a bit of help these days. I am eighty-nine after all.’ Then, as if to prove her point, her knife slipped off the side of her plate and onto the carpet. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said, flustered and I quickly bent down to pick it up. When I brought it back up to the table I noticed Leonard’s eyes were still on me and I busied myself by taking a clean knife, laid out for the next course, and offered it to Dorothy.
‘Well, you are as welcome as any of the guests here, Gina,’ he said, seeming to drop the edginess and becoming the perfect host again. I wasn’t sure I could handle a whole week of Leonard and decided to see if Dorothy was amenable to me slinking off at mealtimes.
The rest of the meal was a blur of family banter, most of which went over the top of my head, but I did glean a little information about the group. Juliet’s parents were called Sophie and Luke. Their dynamic was instantly clear; Sophie was the boss and Luke was happy to play second fiddle. Her opinions were clear and loud and his were neither, but they both seemed likeable. Rufus tried to keep his head down despite his sister, one side of him, and his mother the other, both encouraging him into conversation. Toby and Caroline were clearly in love and it was so heartwarming to see the two of them at the start of their journey. Nostalgia flooded me as I watched them gaze at each other the same way that I’m sure Douglas and I must have done many years before. Leonard, at the head of the table watched over everyone and intermittently interrupted to add his twopence worth.
I had nothing to contribute, as usual, and I was immensely grateful to the moment that we all put our spoons down after dessert and began to vacate the dining room.
‘Shall we take that turn now, Gina?’ Dorothy asked and, without waiting for an answer, she took my arm and steered me out of the room and back towards the door to the garden.
‘Leonard seems a very interesting character,’ I said as we stepped out onto the patio and Dorothy made a beeline for the parterre garden.
‘Yes,’ Dorothy said brightly, glancing back over her shoulder as she spoke. She seemed quite sprightly for her age, especially with me on one side of her and her stick on the other. We passed some rounded box hedging and the pretty herbaceous planting before the older woman had guided me towards some steps. Our pace slowed to a crawl as we navigated them and then I found myself in a wooded area, the ground covered in ferns and with what looked like a little stone folly nestled into the trees.
Dorothy led me inside and she immediately sat down on a stone bench to catch her breath.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked her and she took a long look at me before answering.
‘Can I trust you, dear? It’s so important that I can, because there isn’t much time, you see.’
I wasn’t expecting that and I went for an air of joviality in my reply.
‘Of course you can, unless you’re going to tell me you’re a criminal.’
I laughed a little, but Dorothy’s expression was grim.
‘Hmm, well I’m not. What do you think of Leonard’s art collection?’ she asked, surprising me for a second time.
‘Eclectic?’ I suggested, because it really was.
‘I believe that Leonard has stolen a painting belonging to my late husband, Philip.’
‘Oh, dear, that’s not good. And you’ve seen it in the house, have you?’
‘Well, no, of course Leonard wouldn’t be stupid enough to have it hanging above the fireplace. I think he’s hidden it somewhere; somewhere in plain sight.’
I contemplated this, but really it made no sense.
‘What makes you think it’s likely he’s stolen from you?’ I asked, and Dorothy took a long, ragged breath and began to tell me.
‘Just over a year ago I suffered the most awful night of my life. There was a burglary at our home. Actually, it makes more sense to take you back a little further.’
She got up suddenly, poked her head out of the doorway, glanced around and then sat back down again. I wondered if she might be a little mad, but sat down beside her on the bench anyway, because I was supposed to be her companion after all.
‘My husband first met Leonard when he began working for Philip’s firm. At the time, Leonard was just twenty-five; that was thirty-five years ago. My Philip took an instant liking to the man and took him under his wing, so to speak – mentored him. I didn’t see the same thing that Philip did. I thought he was a little arrogant for such a young person, but Philip liked his verve and always seemed to see good in people. I’m afraid I’m much more of a realist.
‘Anyway, years later Leonard invested heavily in Philip’s business and they became partners. It was only at that time we knew there was family money that went back some way. Later, he inherited this place from his late uncle. So, everything was quite rosy for a while and Philip and I also enjoyed a very good quality of life. Philip loved art and began collecting. It started out as a harmless enough pursuit, but Leonard took it up as well and then became a bit fanatical about it, and if Philip mentioned an auction or a piece he was interested in, then Leonard would try and outbid him, or buy the piece behind his back. Friendly competition Leonard saw it as, but I knew Philip was beginning to get a bit fed up with him.
‘Then Philip wanted to retire and sold his share of the business to Leonard, and he left the company. He tried to distance himself from the man too, but still, he’d turn up like an art-collecting stalker. We both went out of our way to try and avoid him, but he was persistent and seemingly thick-skinned. Then, Leonard seemed to go quiet for a while and Philip wasn’t really collecting much anyway. He was getting older, more frail and didn’t have the passion for it so much.
‘But then there was a competition, a treasure hunt of sorts. It was a thing set up by an art organisation that Philip had been associated with and involved clues from locations around the country, very complicated and far too academic for my mind. It wasn’t out and about, you know; they weren’t all flying around in helicopters. It was mostly online, but with some clues hidden in a couple of locations. Well, Philip won. I was amazed and so proud of my husband for outwitting all the others, and quickly too. The prize was a painting. It wasn’t hugely valuable, but quite an attractive coastal landscape. We didn’t know at that point that Leonard was also trying to win the competition, but he turned up unannounced the day Philip picked up the painting to congratulate him. He couldn’t stop looking at it.’
Dorothy stopped talking for a moment, seemingly back at that time with her husband, and Leonard, the increasingly unappealing character, and I waited for her to continue. In fact, I got up and walked to the doorway to look out. This tale seemed to be getting darker and I wasn’t sure where it was going to end. No one was in sight, though, and we were quite tucked away here. Dorothy began again as I sat back down.
‘Last year, six months after Philip won the painting, we were burgled. A man broke in while we were supposed to be at the theatre, but Philip wasn’t well, so we’d offered our tickets to friends. We were in bed early, but woke to the sound of smashed glass downstairs. I will always regret not trying harder to stop Philip, but he was determined to see what was going on. The thief took several small things of no consequence and also the winning landscape that was hanging on the living room wall. Philip had a number of quite valuable things – you’ve seen some of them – but none were taken. It was as if the thief didn’t know what he had near his grasp and just took random items. I know it was the painting he was really there for. Other works of art with far more provenance were left behind. Philip was weak, but outraged and he chased after the thief onto our front steps where he tripped and fell, broke his arm and hip and smashed his head on the ground. He never recovered from his injuries in hospital.’
‘Dorothy!’ I said, taking the woman’s hand. ‘That’s terrible.’
‘Yes, it was terrible – poor Philip.’
‘And you really think it was Leonard who took it?’
‘Yes, I do. He obviously wasn’t the masked thief. I caught a quick glimpse before he fled. Leonard is tall; the thief was not. Leonard was good at getting others to do things for him – he had a reputation in the office a long time before he was in charge, but he must have planned it. Who else would want the painting?’
‘I assume you’ve told the police.’
‘Of course. They investigated all of the people who entered the competition, including Leonard, but there was no evidence at all. Leonard made all the right noises about how devastated he was to have lost his dearest friend – you heard him in there tonight: to absent friends. But I know deep in my bones that he has it in that house somewhere, somewhere clever. Like I said, hidden in plain sight. He’s so egotistical that he probably would have loved to have got one over on Philip that last time.’
Dorothy was quiet then for a moment, and I began to contemplate the reason why she’d told me this sorry tale.
‘Gina,’ she said, then. ‘The reason I asked you particularly to join me for this week wasn’t because I needed a companion. My daughter-in-law arranged the advertisement even though I told her I’m very happy looking after myself. I was humouring her by talking to the applicants, but had little intention of taking anyone on. But then I spoke to you and you told me about your previous role as a curator. I won’t get another opportunity to be in this house, I doubt, and so it is vitally important that we move quickly. If Leonard gets wind, he’ll move the painting, I’m sure.’
‘Move quickly in what way?’ I asked, although I was pretty sure I already knew.
‘We need to brush aside the fact that Leonard is unhinged and actually in light of what I believe he has done, is pretty dangerous too. He mustn’t know you are anything other than a companion and I will keep smiling at him even though I would ideally love to plunge a knife in his heart.’
‘And…?’ I asked, tentatively.
‘And, you will search the house from top to bottom until you find the painting.’