Chapter 25
‘Would you excuse me for a moment,’ I said.
I pushed my chair back and without looking at those seated at the table I got up and left as quickly as I could. I walked past the huge refrigerated van that had been used to bring the food and drink from the house. The staff had a table to plate up and a portable oven to keep those plates warm for all the courses. There was a posh toilet block that had been erected, but I walked past that too, hoping no one inside the orangery could see me, but then I didn’t really care any more. I made my way back down the path to the house.
The kitchen was alive with energy. Flustered staff were cooking and preparing dishes ready to go in the van when it returned. Everything was lined up and they clearly had things under control despite the furore and also despite the fact that Harry was nowhere to be seen. I asked a couple of them if they’d seen him. Two shrugged that they didn’t know who I was talking about and another said he’d disappeared.
I left them to it and made my way back up the stairs to Harry’s room. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so I decided to chance it and go in. I half expected the door to be locked, but it wasn’t and I hesitated with my hand on the handle, not entirely sure what I was going to find. Then I took a breath and pushed open the door.
Harry’s bed was made perfectly, his curtains were neatly tied back and there was no sign that he’d ever been there. So, he’d done it, his version of handing in his notice. That was it then. He hadn’t found the painting before Leonard; that tiny glimmer of hope was extinguished. We were all vacating the house tomorrow and nothing at all had been resolved.
I sat down on the end of his bed and rubbed my hands across my eyes, suddenly feeling every one of those missing hours of sleep from the last few nights. Then I remembered my carefully applied mascara and got up and looked in Harry’s mirror. Disaster, I looked like I’d been crying or as if someone had thumped me in both eyes. I’d need to wash my face and reapply my make-up. Then again, did I really need to go back to the wedding? Was my presence all that important? Did we still need to keep up the facade of me being Dorothy’s companion? The trouble was that it wasn’t in my nature to abandon a situation. I’d need to see it through to the end no matter that the finish line had been crossed and we were definitely in last place. I returned to my own room to sort my face out.
Two things happened as I opened the door to my bedroom: my phone pinged with yet another message at the same time as I noticed there was a package on my bed. I ignored my phone for the moment and picked up the package. It was the size of a tea tray and I knew immediately it was a painting. I could feel the edges of the frame and when I pulled back the bubble wrap, used to cover it, I could see that it wasn’t just a painting, it was the painting. My heart leaped at the sight of it. After a week of trying to find it, it was just there on my bed, easy as that. Now I could see it up close and in the flesh, so to speak, I realised I’d been a bit dismissive of it before. It was actually a lovely watercolour of a coastal scene: a headland and a beach with a stretch of rocks and a lighthouse. I turned it over and the artist had written Bamburgh on the back. If my geography was correct, I was pretty sure it was a coastal scene from the North East.
Had Leonard given up? Was he finally ready to admit his part in this whole sorry story? From what I had learned of him over the last few days, I knew this couldn’t be true. Leonard didn’t give up. It wasn’t in his nature.
It was when my phone pinged a second and then a third time that I took it out of my bag and read the messages. The first one was from Dorothy asking if I was okay. I hesitated over my reply, full of wanting to tell her all about the painting, but it occurred to me that Leonard must not know right now that I had it and I couldn’t fully trust Dorothy not to march up to the top table and expose him. He would obviously take it back given any opportunity. I had to get it out of this house and find a better hiding place. But where?
The other messages were from Harry. The first was a photo of the painting sitting at the back of the Chinese cabinet with the words ‘for what it’s worth’ typed underneath and the other message said to phone him on this number. I dialled the number straight away.
‘Harry?’ I said when the call connected.
‘Yes,’ he said simply and I could hear from the background noise that he was driving.
‘So you’ve gone then? I don’t blame you.’
‘I had to. I can’t be there when the police come and you’ll phone them now you have the painting. You have found it haven’t you? It was behind the panel in that white cabinet. I’ve sent you a picture, although it doesn’t really prove much. Could be useful, though.’
‘Yes, thank you, Harry, you’re a star.’
‘I’m a criminal, Gina, and it’s hard to stop that when you keep mixing with people like Len.’
‘Please find some better people to mix with, then. Stay away from the Leonards of the world.’
‘I was born into a family of Leonards. It was drugs mostly and how easy it is to get your kids to deal for you. Hard to ditch a learned lifestyle, but it’s more than that. You try and stay away, do a good job, do something decent with your life, but somehow the Leonards always find you.’
‘You are an amazing chef. My advice would be to go as far away as you can afford to and start again. Do you need some money? I don’t have a lot, but could stretch to a one-way plane or train ticket somewhere.’
‘Gina, you’re a good person and probably had a good start in life.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ I said.
‘I don’t need your money, thanks. I may have lifted a couple of things Leonard won’t miss too much.’
‘I’m not going to judge. Just use it for good, please, and thanks again. I can’t tell you how much this will mean to Dorothy.’
‘My advice is to get that painting out of the house before he finds out it’s gone. Hide it well until you need it.’
‘Was someone trying to kill Leonard?’ I asked him. ‘There was a time we thought it might be Paul.’
Harry laughed.
‘It was me,’ he said, ‘but it was only a half-hearted attempt, clearly. My heart wasn’t really in it. I didn’t fancy going down for murder. Oh, but there’s something else. I didn’t want to say the other night in the kitchen with the kid being there because it’s her family, but the person who took Dorothy’s painting is one of them. Leonard told me, but he didn’t say who. You’d better prepare Dorothy for disappointment as well. I’ve got to go. Thanks, Gina.’
‘Good luck,’ I said and then he was gone.
I smiled. I finally had everything I needed to give to Dorothy so she could expose Leonard. Looking at my watch I realised I’d been gone for half an hour. They’d be halfway through the fourth course by now. I was no longer hungry as my stomach was full of butterflies, but I did need to get back before Leonard realised I wasn’t there; if he hadn’t already. Remembering that I had to stay calm and act as if nothing had changed, I typed back a message to Dorothy to say I’d come back to the house for some paracetamol for a headache and I’d be back within half an hour once the painkillers had taken effect. I spent five minutes washing my face and making it as presentable as possible, then began to look for a hiding place in my bedroom. No, I needed to do what Harry had suggested and get it out of the house. Where though? Who did I trust enough to hide a painting? And then I remembered the church.
The church was, of course, deserted. Peter was currently enjoying the meal with the rest of the guests. He had an open-door policy though and I was able to walk straight in. Peter felt like an ally now. He didn’t like or trust Leonard the same as Dorothy and I was convinced he’d help given the opportunity. Also the church was probably not a place that Leonard would think to look, certainly not in the short term when it mattered. In the long term, I very much hoped the business would be out of my hands.
I quickly looked around for a good hiding place. I tried to wedge it down the back of the radiator, but it wouldn’t fit. I lifted the lid of the font, but changed my mind in case there was a christening tomorrow and Peter wasn’t the first to find it. I even considered the monument, but I’d never have the strength to push the lid on it and surely it was incredibly disrespectful even if there wasn’t a body inside.
‘Argh! Come on, Gina,’ I urged myself. ‘You don’t have time for this.’
Then I remembered Dorothy’s words hidden in plain sight and thought about hanging it on the wall. My eyes roamed until they fell upon the wooden plaque where the hymn numbers were listed. I pulled over a chair and stood up on the seat so I could reach the plaque. When I pulled it off the wall I could see it was made like a box with a space behind it. With great luck and the bubble wrap removed, the painting fitted just inside and I replaced it on the wall. I hoped that this would all be resolved one way or another before tomorrow’s service when the hymn numbers might need to be changed. To be honest, the next step of this drama would begin to play out as soon as Leonard saw the painting was gone from his room, if Dorothy didn’t get her victory accusation in first. Surely that would be tonight.
As I climbed down from the chair I could hear a low rumble of thunder in the distance as if I needed a reminder of how alarming this whole adventure was. Lavinia’s storm was coming.
Pushing the chair back into its space I rushed from the church, shoved the bubble wrap into the dustbin out the back and I was off to the orangery, my heart racing.
Everyone had just finished their main course of Norfolk lamb as I sat back down and I had missed not only that but also the palate cleansing lemon and fennel. I reassured the others at the table I was fine now and it was just a minor headache. I also apologised for disappearing and gave Dorothy a smile, wishing I could say more. Leonard, at the top table, stared at me for longer than was comfortable through very narrowed eyes but I looked away, a genuine headache beginning. So, my disappearing act hadn’t gone unnoticed. I poured myself a large glass of water and then took my phone out of my bag and put it into my pocket. I had proof of the painting being in Leonard’s bedroom, or certainly a photo of it on my phone and it suddenly felt much more precious. If Leonard got hold of it and deleted it, what did I have? I suddenly worried that all I’d done by hiding it in the church was pass the blame onto Peter. But no, I’d got Harry’s word on where it had been, if Harry’s word would be believed. I pushed all of the scenarios out of my head because I was being just a little bit paranoid.
I had done all I could for now. I felt happy to wait for dessert and cheese and biscuits to arrive.