By a Hand Unknown, page 8
‘Nathan, ciao bello.’ She produced what she hoped was her best smile. ‘Mind if I come in?’
‘Er, no. Is there a problem?’
‘No, no problem. Nessun problema. Only I’ve been really curious to see what you’re doing down here. Do you mind?’
She crossed to stand by his work table and stared down at the drawing in front of him. It was a graceful, full-length image of the Virgin Mary, in what looked like pencil on white paper. She’d probably seen it before but she wasn’t sure.
‘What are you doing to this?’
Nathan raised his eyebrows at the question then looked back at the picture and began talking like a teacher.
‘At some point it’s been allowed to get up close and personal to a pastel drawing and the coloured pastel has transferred itself to the white paper. See? Here, here and here. It needs to be removed. As well as spoiling the simplicity of the work, pastel can attract mould. If it’s not needed it has to go.’
‘Oh OK. So how do you do that? With a rubber?’
‘Not exactly.’ He glanced up at her with the suggestion of a smile. ‘I’ll try to get as much as possible off by simply blowing it off with this air-bulb, see? For stickier areas, I can brush. This one is very soft-bristled.’ He picked up a brush and showed her. ‘In a couple of places the colour has ground more into the paper. As long as it’s somewhere away from the drawing, I can use this vinyl eraser powder to help lift it. It’s like the white vinyl eraser you might buy but more discreet to use. You gently rub it on with a fingertip, then brush or blow it off.’
‘Fascinating. And is this what you do all the time, smarten up old drawings?’
‘No. I work on all kinds of pictures. Sometimes I work on oil paintings like Hannah.’ He nodded his head in the direction of Hannah’s easel where the Perugino stood. ‘Hannah’s just gone to ring our boss.’
‘Yes, I saw her. So I suppose you travel to all kinds of places in this job?’
‘Yes, wherever the work is.’
‘Abroad too?’
‘To Europe sometimes.’
‘That must be difficult for your girlfriend. Or wife, if you’re married.’
He laughed shortly. ‘No such problem.’
‘I see.’ She smiled again and perched her bottom on the edge of the table. She was wearing a tight skirt and it rode up to display a little thigh. ‘It must be exciting to travel. I’d love to do that.’
‘Haven’t you ever been anywhere?’
‘Not really. Dad had this property development business down in Hampshire. We often used to go to the Isle of Wight and we went over to Brittany once. Dad went away on business – to all sorts of places – but we didn’t go with him. I think we cramped his style.’
‘Still, you could do some exploring of your own now, choose where you want to go.’
‘By myself?’
‘Or with a friend.’
‘I suppose. I’m going to evening classes to learn Italian.’
‘Oh? Planning a trip to Italy?’
Rose shrugged. ‘I’d love to. Have you been there?’
‘Yes, a couple of times.’
‘Lucky you.’ She hesitated, trying to gauge his mood, curious to know what he thought. ‘Wasn’t it sad about Carrie? I suppose she might have done it deliberately, mightn’t she – you know, jumped into the water? She never looked happy. But then you can’t come somewhere like this and assume you can change everything. I mean, this place managed without her for centuries, didn’t it?’
‘Is that what she did, tried to change everything?’
Rose pulled a face and shrugged again. ‘I don’t know. I just got that impression from odd things that were said. You know, just generally.’
‘Well, I’ve no idea what happened. Look Rose, I really need to get on with this.’ He gestured to the drawing. ‘My boss is keen on schedules.’
‘Oh, all right.’ She wriggled herself down off the table and smoothed her skirt down, cross with herself. She always seemed to say the wrong thing. ‘I didn’t realise I was in the way.’
‘No, I didn’t mean that.’ He smiled at her. He had a nice smile with eyes that crinkled up, not like Alan who looked like a vulture when he smiled. ‘But I do have to concentrate. I can’t afford to make a mistake or I’ll be out of a job.’
Mollified, she smiled back and walked to the door but stopped before she got there.
‘That Hannah’s a bit odd, isn’t she? I mean, yesterday, going to look at where Carrie died? Kind of a creepy thing to do.’
He turned to look at her but hadn’t replied when the door opened and Hannah walked in. She glanced at Rose, then at Nathan, then back at Rose. The two women nodded at each other and Rose withdrew, pulling the door to behind her. She paused by the door though and listened.
‘You didn’t tell me you’d been to see where Carrie was found,’ Nathan was saying in an accusing voice.
Rose walked back to the office, smiling to herself. She liked Nathan but she wasn’t too keen on Hannah.
Chapter 6
Norwich, the county town of Norfolk, was originally an Anglo-Saxon settlement and its subsequent wealth was built on the wool trade. Now a thriving, bustling city, it boasts one of the largest medieval cathedrals in England and still has, at its heart, a warren of narrow, cobbled streets. This much Hannah had learned on her first visit. She had called in at the tourist information office, acquired a map and a guide book and had visited some of the most notable sites. But it also offered the biggest choice of shops in the area so that Saturday she had decided to return and indulge in a little shopping.
It was also good to get away and be alone. After Rose’s visit to the workroom the day before, the atmosphere had been so taut, it had felt as if it might crack.
‘I didn’t go to see where Carrie was found,’ Hannah had protested to Nathan. ‘I went to see what the place was like. If you must know, I wanted to see how easy it would be to fall into the Broad accidentally.’
‘Oh really? And?’
‘And if you weren’t used to the place, and perhaps it was overcast or dark, it could happen.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m just saying, it could happen. Then I saw the remains of the police tape and realised that was where Carrie was found. I don’t know how Rose knew though. I suppose Alan must have told her. He was there, standing, just staring at the place.’
‘Alan? And you didn’t think to tell me that either?’
‘Do you tell me everything you do? We don’t live in each other’s pockets, Nathan.’
After glaring at each other, they had both retreated into their work, barely speaking again for most of the day. It felt childish but there was no way Hannah was going to apologise; she had nothing to apologise for. But she did make a mental note never to tell the ubiquitous Rose anything. That girl liked acquiring information and she used it to manipulate people. And now Nathan had gone off doing God knew what. Well, she hoped he had a nice day. With any luck he would work the bad mood out of his system.
The roads were busy. Hannah eventually found a parking space and made her way onto the thronging streets. She browsed in and out of shops, treated herself to a magazine and a new paperback, then found herself by the market square in the centre where stalls sprawled across a swathe of the slope up to the council buildings at the top. It was just the sort of place she liked to poke about. There were fruit and vegetable stalls, fresh bread and cakes, hardware and garden plants, but what really caught her eye were the brightly coloured clothes hanging from rails on coat hangers, some spinning in the breeze. Hannah was wiry with skinny legs. She wasn’t elegant and knew she never would be. On the contrary, she felt her happiest in jeans or leggings with a big sweater or shirt, in dungarees or an oversized cotton dress with patch pockets. And she loved bright colours.
She started to pick through the stalls, happily losing track of time, and was standing with a coat hanger in hand, a pair of baggy cotton trousers in a gaudy fake patchwork design with cinched in ankles dangling from it, when a woman’s voice spoke behind her.
‘You could get away with them, I’m sure, but I couldn’t. Not with my waistline.’
Hannah turned abruptly to see Sidony, who smiled.
‘Sorry if I gave you a shock.’
‘Hello Sidony. No, it’s fine. I was miles away.’ Hannah hung the trousers back on the rack.
‘Oh Sid, please. Call me Sid. Everyone does.’ She glanced towards the rejected trousers. ‘And don’t let me disturb your shopping.’
‘You’re not. I’m not sure they’re quite me. With legs like mine I’d probably look like a clown. In any case, I’ve already bought a pair from one of the other stalls and I don’t really need any more.’
‘I don’t need half the clothes I buy but it never stops me. Are you alone? What about a coffee? Let me buy you one.’
‘Lovely, thank you. But I’ll have tea if you don’t mind. I don’t drink coffee.’
‘Oh yes, I think Rose said.’
Sid led the way to a coffee shop down one of the side streets, away from the noise and frenzy, and they sat in an upstairs room by a window looking down on the street below. Hannah’s mother would have approved of Sid. She was elegant. Her waist might have spread a little but her clothes were always neatly tailored, her make-up tasteful and her white-grey hair immaculately cut and flatteringly layered. She had an attractive, even face and a direct gaze.
‘So what does Nathan do while you spend your money in Norwich?’ said Sidony, stirring two sweeteners into her coffee.
‘I have no idea.’ Hannah shrugged. ‘He used to come to Norfolk on holiday apparently and I think he’s enjoying revisiting some old haunts.’
‘I see. I’d thought perhaps you were more than just colleagues.’
Hannah’s eyes narrowed. ‘No. We just work together.’
Sidony produced the suggestion of a smile. ‘Don’t take offence. I didn’t mean anything by it.’ She sat back in the chair. ‘How’s it going? I imagine poor Carrie’s tragic death has made it difficult for you. I still can’t quite take it in.’
‘Me neither. But we’re plodding on.’
‘Is Nathan all right? He seemed to have got to know her quite well.’
‘I don’t think he had a chance to know her well. We hadn’t been here long enough.’ Hannah paused. ‘Have you had a number of different curators over the years?’
‘A few, I suppose. Graham had the job before Carrie and he was here when Toby and I came back to the manor. I take it you know that we were married?’
Hannah nodded.
‘Graham had already been at the manor for years by then. When he retired there was a short gap until Mortimer hired Carrie and she thought Graham’s approach had become out of date. Isn’t that always the way with new blood?’
It was a casual remark, apparently without inflection. Hannah drank a little tea and found Sid’s probing eyes on her as she put the cup down and looked up. She felt she was being examined and thought she’d retaliate by doing a little examining of her own.
‘Did Carrie rock the boat then?’
Sid gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t know about that. I suppose there’s always a frisson of trouble when a pretty woman joins a workforce. Laws of nature. Alan took rather a shine to her to start with, even asked her out, I think.’
‘I thought he was engaged?’
‘Exactly. She didn’t accept, sensible girl.’
Hannah nodded thoughtfully. ‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
‘Try me.’
‘Isn’t it hard to still be living and working under the same roof as Toby? Wouldn’t it have been easier to work somewhere else?’
Sidony took a slow sip of coffee, then sat back again and looked at her, pursing up her lips thoughtfully.
‘Is that what you’d have done? Gone, left a good job and all your associations. It would be like giving in, don’t you think?’ She rocked her head slightly side to side. ‘I suppose if I was still in love with him, it would have been easier to go. But that died years ago. Toby is serially unfaithful. He’s currently dating Amanda Lawson, one of the house guides. I might as well tell you because you’re bound to hear it from someone. Amanda thinks it’ll be different with her, that they’ll have a sweet, rosy future together and that she will be important to him and to everyone else because of who he is.’ Sid shook her head with a wry smile. ‘She’s fooling herself. Toby is only interested in himself. He’ll cheat on her eventually and so it will go on.’
‘And how does Rose feel about all this?’
Sid’s expression closed down and she leaned forward to pick up her coffee cup.
‘I’m not entirely sure. She doesn’t confide in me.’ She drank a mouthful of coffee and replaced the cup on the saucer. ‘When she was young she was always daddy’s girl. Always wanted him more than me. Perhaps that was my fault: she and I were never quite singing from the same page. Do you have children, Hannah?’
The abruptness of the question took Hannah by surprise.
‘No.’
‘In that case it may not be easy for you to understand.’
‘I had a mother. We weren’t always singing from the same page either.’
‘Perhaps you do understand then. I love Rose – she’s my daughter – but we’re not close.’
They sat for a moment in silence, finishing their drinks. Sidony finished first and considered Hannah with her cool, scrutinising gaze.
‘I gather Carrie told Nathan that she thought someone had been in the storeroom one night, acting suspiciously.’
‘Something like that,’ said Hannah carefully. ‘But Mr Gyllam-Spence doesn’t seem bothered by it. He thinks everything’s as it should be in there.’
‘And why shouldn’t it be? There’s no sign of anyone having broken in, is there? I don’t really understand why Carrie was so bothered about it – assuming anyone was actually there. I believe there’s nothing missing, nothing out of place. The poor girl was clearly living on her nerves and blew it out of proportion. She should have spoken to Mortimer about it anyway if she was worried. Why didn’t she?’
‘I don’t know.’ Hannah hesitated for the blink of an eye. ‘Who has a key to the storeroom?’
Sidony shrugged. ‘Mortimer. Carrie had one of course. But there’s one in the box in Rose’s desk in the office too. There’s a spare key for everything in there.’ She produced another wry smile. ‘I really don’t think you should be looking to point fingers.’ Now a moment’s hesitation as if she were toying with revealing something private. ‘It isn’t easy, you know. There isn’t the money there used to be. Just because the collection has many valuable pieces in it, it doesn’t make Mortimer a wealthy man. And ticket sales barely cover costs. If we didn’t have all the functions and events…’ She stopped suddenly as if she thought she’d said too much. ‘Well, I’d better let you get on with your shopping.’
She reached down to her handbag, stowed by the chair in a shopping bag and lifted it to her lap to pull out a vanity mirror and check her make-up. She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a tissue and replaced the mirror.
‘Sid, why did you tell me all this?’ said Hannah.
Sidony snapped the handbag closed and regarded her silently for a few disconcerting seconds.
‘It bothers me how easily rumours start. A place like Ranling Manor with its history and its privileged occupants is always going to provoke gossip and, God knows, Toby doesn’t help that. But rumours about the sad death of a young woman or spurious suspicions about the looting of the collection, that sort of nonsense we can all do without. Mortimer is foolishly eccentric but he’s a good man and I don’t want to see him hurt. The manor and its collection mean everything to him.’ She paused. ‘You understand? There’s nothing going on at the manor, just a bunch of people trying to keep their heads above water.’ Her voice became quieter but harder and more insistent. ‘Don’t go spreading baseless rumours, Hannah, nor your friend. Just stay out of it.’
Sid got up, shrugged her jacket on and picked up her shopping bag.
Hannah stayed in her seat. ‘Thank you for the tea,’ she said with deliberate politeness.
Sid nodded and walked away but Hannah didn’t move. It occurred to her that Sid was both a clever woman and a smooth talker. And she knew a great deal more about what went on at the manor – in public and in private – than she let on.
*
Nathan stood in the red phone box along the street from the inn and put his available silver change out on the shelf. Not for the first time, he thought how much easier this would be if he owned his own mobile phone. They were developing rapidly – he’d been reading about all the latest brands in a magazine only the other day – but they were still kind of big to lug around and signal coverage was patchy. And they were pricey too, though feeding money into public phone boxes wasn’t exactly cheap either. At least this one was reasonably clean. The things phone boxes got used for didn’t bear thinking about.
He dialled the number and waited, listening to the peals at the other end, and checked his watch: five past seven. His mother rarely went out in the evening so he assumed she would be there. In any case, he’d got into a routine of ringing her on a Monday night so it was likely she’d be waiting.
He heard the phone being picked up and his mother saying the number. The pips went and he quickly pushed coins into the slot.
‘Hi Mum. How are you?’
‘Oh good, Nathan darling.’ She had that familiar breathless, anxious tone again. It had started when Sam had gone missing all those years ago and still came back even now, whenever she got stressed. ‘I’m so glad you called. If you hadn’t I was going to try to ring you at that place you’re staying. What is it? I’ve got it written down somewhere.’
‘The Boatman. Why, what’s the matter?’
‘It’s Samuel,’ she said on a rising note, as if it had been a foolish question. ‘Lyn – you remember Lyn?’
