Restoring Grace (50 page)

‘
I was wondering . . .
The thing is . . . I need somewhere
to
stay for a few days. Luckenham House is being treated
for dry rot and
we've all got to move out.'

‘Also,' she went on when he didn't answer, 'I
haven't
seen a doctor or anyone since I
discovered I was preg
nant because I'm signed on in Bath. It would give
me an
opportunity to go to her.' She smiled,
hoping he wouldn't
point out that
she was planning to commute to his house
every day, why couldn't she
just visit her doctor and go back to Luckenham House when the dry rot was dealt
with?

‘Where are the others going?'

‘
Grace is
going to stay with Flynn.' She didn't mention
Demi, because Ran might
correctly assume that if Flynn had room for Grace and Demi, he might also have
room for Ellie.

‘
So you
want to stay here?' His expression was madden
ingly inscrutable.

‘
If that's
all right. Of course, I don't have to, it's just . . .
my parents live
miles away, and—'

‘Well, I suppose that's OK,' he interrupted
her, looking
at her rather sternly, as if
warning her against any funny
business. 'When do you want to come?'

‘They're starting on Monday.'

‘So you could just bring your stuff when you
come anyway?'

‘
Yes, I
could.' Somehow, everything had worked out all
right. Perhaps it was a
good omen.

‘
Do you want
to make us both something to drink
before we start work? Bring it in
when it's ready, but for God's sake don't spill anything!’

*

The panels were lying on their backs on an old
sheet.

‘
I haven't
done anything to them yet. I wanted to think
how best to proceed.'

‘How will
you
deal with the dry rot? Will you have
to
flood them with toxic chemicals? I think
that's what
they're planning to do at Luckenham House.'

‘No, nothing like that. I'll make up a fume
tent and fill
it with nitrogen. That should
kill anything else that's alive
in there.’

Ellie shuddered. 'What do you mean?'

‘Woodworm, mainly.’

Ellie studied the beautiful brushwork, admired
the delicacy of the tiny flowers and birds which were scat
tered at the feet of the figures. 'Do you think
they're very
valuable?'

‘
They could
be priceless. Although they're in quite bad
condition in places, at
least they haven't been braced or
cradled -
with a framework of wood, I mean, so the wood
can't move.'

‘That's bad, then?'

‘Very bad. Wood has to be able to move,' he
said
solemnly, but with that underlying layer
of wit which was what made him so sexy, in Ellie's opinion. 'There
isn't a signature, unfortunately,' he went on.
'There were
a couple of initials, but
one has been virtually eaten away.'

‘
Where is
it? Perhaps I could make it out.'

‘Not being as old and grizzled as I am, you
mean?' She smiled, glad to be back on familiar ground. 'You said it! And I just
want to see.’

He showed her the place.
There was a clear letter R
and the second letter looked a bit
like a C but could equally be fly droppings. 'Does that mean we can't find out
who did them?'

‘Not at all. It'll just take a while, that's
all.'

‘But it would add to their value if we knew who
did them?'

‘Hugely. And if we could also find some
provenance,
how they came to be in the
house, stuff like that, it would
help enormously.'

‘So how are you going to find out all that?'

‘I'm not. You are.' He said it very coolly, as
if it were perfectly simple.

‘
I am? But I
don't know anything about things like that.
Don't you need a
specialist?'

‘
No. I'll
point you in the right direction, but you'll have
to do the spadework. It'll be good training for
you, if
you're really interested in conservation work.'

‘So where will I have to go?'

‘The Witt Library. It's part of the Courtauld
Institute, in Somerset House.'

‘Then what?'

‘Most of the records of English artists are
there. You'll have to go through all the ones with first names begin
ning with R, and see if anything fits with what
we know.'

‘
But we
know nothing!’

He shook his head. 'We've
got a rough date - within
a century or two
- we have a locale, and we have a
subject.'

‘But I don't feel remotely qualified to do
anything like that! I'm an artist, not a historian!'

‘
Look, do you want to do the best for these
panels or
don't
you?' He was looking stern again, which Ellie found
very distracting. 'I don't have time to do the
research –
I'm working on the panels for nothing, when I've got my own
clients stacking up. I can't take days off in London to do research.'

‘
No, sorry. I wasn't
thinking . . .' about his work,
anyway. She lowered her eyes contritely.

‘Well then,
start! And then get the hoover out.’

‘But I'm an
apprentice, not a cleaner!'

‘Apprentice
means dogsbody, for at least seven years!
Oh,
and make an appointment with your doctor.’

‘
Yes, sir,' said
Ellie, trying not to laugh.

*

By the time Ellie went back to Luckenham House
that
night she had not only cleaned Ran's
house, and had her
first go at
scraping off glue with a scalpel, which was
very nerve-racking for both
her and Ran, but she had a sheaf of notes about the panels. She was longing to
tell Grace all about them, about how all the panels of that
period came from the same firm of brothers who
imported
Polish oak, which meant that
the artist hadn't just started
painting
the window shutters, but had probably put them
up there himself. The
nail holes were visible.

She was very glad that
Grace was in the kitchen so she
could spill out
her enthusiasm. 'I've had the most
amazing day!' she said. 'Ran is
absolutely fascinating.’

Grace smiled as she put the kettle on. 'I know
that, you've made your feelings quite clear.'

‘
I don't
mean like that! I mean as a conservator! All the
stuff he's told me,
it's brilliant!'

‘I thought he was a picture restorer.’

Ellie shook her head. 'What Ran does is much
more about conserving what's there, making it stable, so it doesn't deteriorate
any further. He does do restoration, but they don't like to be called picture
restorers.'

‘
Those sound like words from the master!'

‘
You'd better believe
it! He's so gorgeous when he's
strict!
If only he'd cave in and take me,' she ended rather
wistfully.

‘I thought you wanted a bit more than that from
him,' said Grace more seriously.

‘
Well, yes,
but if I can't have that, and I can work with
him, I might get a proper
career out of it.'

‘But I thought you had to go to university and
do a course?'

‘Well, probably, but it would be so wonderful
just to
watch him work.' She looked up at
Grace. 'I know you
just think I'm
totally in love with him, but I'm also in
love with what he does. It's
so important! You remember all that row about restoring Michelangelo's David?'

‘No.'

‘Well, the conservator resigned her job, the
best job in the entire world, because they – some authority or other
– wanted her to do something to it that she felt
was wrong,
and would possibly damage it.'

‘Dreadful.' Grace tried to summon up the right
degree of outrage and didn't think she'd quite managed it.

‘It's so fascinating. Did you know that Indian
Yellow
was apparently made out of the urine
of cows fed entirely
on mangoes?' She frowned, her brain addled with
information overload. 'Or was that a myth? Anyway, it's grip
ping stuff. I can't wait to go back the day after
tomorrow.'
She frowned. 'It's so odd how things turn out. It never
occurred to me that conserving pictures might be
remotely
interesting. If we hadn't found the panels I wouldn't have given it a thought.
But meeting Ran has shown me how utterly fascinating it is. I could get quite
obsessional.'

‘
I am glad.
Otherwise you're devoting hours and hours
of time just for me and the
panels.'

‘
I'd do that anyway, Grace.
But I wasn't expecting to
be so interested. And if I did persuade him to let me
work for him, I could
probably fit it in round the baby.’

‘
I could
look after the baby while you work,' offered Grace. 'I love babies.'

‘But you might have one of your own soon,'
Ellie reminded her with a mischievous grin.

Grace rolled her eyes in horror. 'I hope not!
How soon can you tell if you're pregnant?'

‘I didn't mean that! Although of course it is
possible. I meant you and Flynn, might . . . get together.' She had been about
to say 'get married', but held back.

Grace sighed. 'I don't
know. Really, I don't. I don't really
want to
talk about it. It might all go away.'

‘Fine. I do understand.' But Ellie didn't
really understand. Being a very confiding person herself, she'd have wanted to
dissect every sentence she and Flynn had exchanged if she'd been Grace, to
extract every atom of
meaning out of it.
'By the way,' she added. 'I've arranged
to stay with Ran while the dry
rot is being done. Is that all right?'

‘
Oh! Yes, of
course it is. I'll have Demi as a chaperone.’

‘
Do you
need a chaperone?'

‘No!' Grace sounded startled. 'No, of course I
don't. I just . .

‘
What?'
demanded Ellie, unable to be tactful any longer.
'What's going on with
you and Flynn?'

‘Nothing. We're just . .

‘
What? He's
a lovely man, Grace, and there aren't many
like that around!’

Grace looked confused. 'I
just don't want to rush things.
And if I was staying with him, in
his house, on my own, I'd feel I was pushing him into something. He had a very
bad marriage and a messy divorce. He's not going
to want
commitment, stuff like that. And after Edward—'

‘
In my
opinion, "after Edward" has gone on far too
long. And what
makes you think Flynn won't want commitment? He seems very keen to me.'

‘
Well, perhaps it's me who's not ready. Anyway,
it'll be
fine. Demi will be there with me.'

‘
I see,'
said Ellie, deciding that Demi wouldn't. Perhaps
she'd benefit from a little spell with her mother while the
house was full of toxic chemicals. Grace
definitely needed
pushing, and if she
wouldn't be pushed with Demi there,
Demi
would not be there. Demi loved Grace, and she
owed her. And so, after
she had had the facts explained
to her,
Ellie was sure she would go back to her mother's,
if not happily, at
least with resignation.