Restoring Grace (55 page)

‘It's all right. Do you know what Allegra
said?'

‘
Not exactly,
but going on how Mum was, I imagine
she was livid.'

‘Why? It's not my fault I found valuable
paintings in my house!'

‘But you didn't tell her about them. She thinks
that's deceitful.'

‘Figures, I suppose.' Grace sighed deeply.

‘
But she
doesn't know where Flynn lives,' went on
Demi, sounding pleased with
herself. 'I refused to give them his address.'

‘
Oh well
done, Dem! That was good. How did you
manage it?' Grace tried to sound
congratulatory but this wasn't quite the coup Demi obviously thought it was as
it would only give Grace a few days before she was
descended on by Allegra, and quite possibly by her
brother as
well.

‘It wasn't that hard,' Demi mumbled. 'I didn't
know
i
t.'

‘Oh. And I suppose Allegra now knows the
telephone number?' Grace picked up a pen and began to draw flowers down the
margin of a newspaper.

‘
Yup. I'm
so sorry, Grace! I didn't mean to say anything.'
Demi sounded really
contrite, and Grace could imagine
how hard
it would be to resist all the questioning Hermia
would put her through.

‘
I know you
didn't. It's all right. I'd better go and think
about what to do.'

‘
I'd better
go now, too. Mum will kill me if she finds
out I've warned you.'

‘
Don't
worry, I'm sure it will all be all right,' said Grace,
with an assurance
she didn't feel.

‘So that's it,' she went on when she had
replaced the receiver. 'That's the cat well and truly out of the bag.' Grace
subsided into Flynn's office chair.

‘And is the cat on her way round to scratch
your eyes out?' asked Flynn.

Grace laughed in spite of herself. 'No, not
yet. We're
spared that because Demi didn't
know your address. Poor
little thing. She was riddled with guilt.'

‘And I expect her mother pounced on the news
and
tortured every scrap of information out
of her, to keep
on with the cat analogy.'

‘Yes. Don't know why.'

‘
Well,
think about it! She has an opportunity to get back
at the woman who took
her husband! Of course she's going to grab it!'

‘
But I
didn't take Edward! I mean, well, not on purpose.
They were separated
before he met me.'

‘
I hate to say this - to admit it even - but men
always say that, even when it's not true.'

‘
But it was true! Oh, never mind. It's all a long
time
ago now. What should I do about Allegra?'

‘
Do you have to do anything?'

‘
Eventually
I will. I'm only safe for a few days, while
I'm here. After that, she
can attack at any time.' She
smiled, trying
to make light of what was, in fact, making her feel sick with anxiety. It was
hard to believe that less
than five minutes ago she and Flynn had been
on their way upstairs. Now she could no more have indulged in lovemaking than
she could have flown.

Flynn moved around behind her and drew her to
her
feet. 'Let's go and sit down in comfort
and talk about this.
I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems.'

‘
People
always say that when it's not their problem.' She
smiled, trying to
tease him, and not quite managing it.

‘I know. But we can sort something out
together.’

Ensconced in Flynn's comfortable sofa, a glass
of very
nice wine in her hand, Grace did
feel a bit better, but she
knew it was only temporary.

‘The thing is this,' she explained to Flynn,
who was
sitting opposite her with his legs
crossed. Why hadn't she
noticed
before just how good-looking he was? she
wondered, with a part of her
brain which refused to
concentrate on the
matter in hand. 'Allegra and Nicholas
are
quite likely to say that the pictures are theirs, because
they're not
fixtures and fittings.'

‘
But that's
ridiculous, they are. I thought you said Ran
- whatever his name is, the conservator - had to cut them
out or
unscrew them or something?'

‘Well, yes, but if they'd been painted on the
shutters, they'd have been part of the house. As it is, they're not.'

‘
I think
the fact that they were nailed or screwed down
means that they are.'

‘
You'd think that because you want the paintings
to
belong to me - so I can pay back the
money you're
going to lend me - but Allegra and Nicholas might think
differently.'

‘I'm sure
they're not going to be that unreasonable.’

‘People are
always unreasonable where money is concerned.'

‘True.’

Grace curled her feet
under her and closed her eyes for
a moment.

‘I'm going to light the fire,' said Flynn.
'Then I'm going to make us a cosy supper, which we'll eat in front of it.
Then we'll watch television or something before I
run you
a hot bubble bath. Everything will seem better in the morning.’

Grace closed her eyes and
sighed. 'No, it won't. I'll just
be able to worry more because I'll
have more energy.'

‘You really do believe Allegra and your brother
will try and make you give them the paintings?'

‘I don't know for sure. But Allegra was putting
a lot of
pressure on me to sell the house.
If she could try and take
away my
home, she wouldn't baulk at a couple of
pictures, surely?'

‘
I don't know
Allegra, what she's capable of, but I don't
think
she's a
monster.'

‘
I really
hope she's not, but Nicholas is very into money;
he might encourage her.’

Flynn regarded Grace for what felt like a long
time. 'I
tell you what, darling. I'm going to
take one of your
worries away from you.'

‘You've already done that, by offering to lend
me the money.'

‘
Another one.
I'm not going to try and lure you into
bed with me until this whole
picture thing is sorted out. Unless you decide you want to sleep with me, we'll
sleep apart.' He hesitated. 'Am I right in thinking you were worrying about
that, too?’

She looked up at him and nodded, surprised and
touched by his perceptiveness. 'It would make
everything
more complicated for me. I know most people can walk down the
street and chew gum at the same time, but I would find having . . . a
relationship' - they exchanged
glances and he
smiled - 'distracting, while everything
else in my life is confused.'

‘
Then that's
just fine. I won't lay a finger on you unless
you want me to. I would
hate you to be distracted.’

It was only after he'd said this that Grace
wondered if it was what she'd wanted after all. A little distraction might be a
very good thing, and maybe a night of unrestrained passion was what she needed.
Still, she could hardly ask for it now.

‘Now you go up and have a long, hot bath, and
when you come down I'll make you something nice on toast.’

She sighed, annoyed with
herself for turning down the
chance of more than 'something nice
on toast'.

Chapter
Twenty-four

‘
I'll
give you a lift to the station,' said Ran firmly next morning.

‘You don't have to. I can drive myself.' Ellie,
feeling anxious, was determined to be independent.

‘
But you'll
be coming back in the dark. Finding your
car on your own, at night, in a car park, is never pleasant.’

‘
Honestly,
I'm fine. You're busy—'

‘
Oh, shut up. I'll get my keys.’

*

He is quite bossy, she thought as she made her
way to the ticket office and bought a ticket. Why don't I object?
Was it because in this particular instance, his
bossiness
worked in her favour? With Rick she would be nagging
for a lift, giving him statistics about women being
attacked in car parks at night. She
was always the adult,
the one who initiated things, made decisions.

Once on the train Ellie settled back into her
seat and
tried to concentrate on the tasks
before her, not the man
who had set her to them. Being in love was
terribly
distracting. She got out the A-Z
and plotted her route
yet again. Ran
had given her directions, but Ellie liked
to see for herself where she
was to go. Luckily it didn't seem a difficult journey, and Somerset House would
be
hard to miss, even for someone not
familiar with
London. Once there, she
had to find the Courtauld
Institute and then the Witt Library. That was
when her task really began.

*

It took her a little thought to work out which
bit of the
Courtauld Institute she wanted,
but eventually she found
the right door and bravely asked for the Witt
Library.
Before she arrived, she was
convinced that no one would let her in looking so studenty. Surely you had to
look like
a serious academic to be
allowed in to handle the contents
of
a place Ellie had never even heard of? But Ran had
told her it was the
most comprehensive library of all the artists on the planet, practically, and
it was where they would find their artist.

It seemed very small when she first went in,
but then she realised she was only in the first room. It was lined
with shelves, on which sat file after green file,
with either
letters or artists' names on them.

‘Can I help you?' A respectable, middle-aged
woman,
of the kind likely to be put off by
a nose stud and several
earrings, spoke to Ellie.

Ellie cleared her throat. Her question seemed
so silly, but then she realised that the woman was smiling, not
disapproving, and that there were a couple of other
obvious students around. So she smiled back.

‘It's rather an odd thing, but I'm trying to
research an artist . .

‘Who?'

‘
That's the
thing – I only have his initials. And we're
not quite sure if we've got
those right, exactly. Only the first one is quite clear.’

The woman didn't snort
derisively, or laugh, but
nodded, as if
situations like this were not all that unusual.
'English?’

Ellie nodded. 'Most probably.'

‘And you know his dates, roughly?'

‘Very roughly.'

‘Well, over there you'll find an index of all
the artists we have records for. If you plough through all of them, you should
eventually find artists with the right initials,
and then you can narrow it down by date. But then you'd
have to
be able to recognise their work to make sure it's the right one.'

‘That's all right. I think I could do that.'
She had some
Polaroids which Ran had taken
in her bag, if her memory
failed her.

The woman smiled. 'Good luck. And let me know
if there's anything else I can do for you.’

There were lots of desks
with lights over them where
a couple of people were cutting
photographs out of cata
logues and pasting
them on to card. As Ellie pushed past
them
to get to the index, she realised they were updating the records of who owned
various pictures now, and how
much they had been sold for.