I’ve been planning a move for some time. So I’m yours for as long as you need me.’ Gabriel hesitated. ‘But the thing is, Dad, you need to convalesce before coming back to Haywards. A nice little break with sea air and plenty of peace and quiet.’
‘Why do I have the feeling you’ve got this all arranged?’ he said, wagging a finger at her. ‘Go on. Get it off your chest. Exactly what plan have you hatched up for me?’
‘It’s not me. It’s Mother. She—she suggests you spend a couple of weeks with her at Julia’s cottage on the Gower,’ said Gabriel in a rush.
Harry Brett’s sleepy blue eyes narrowed in disbelief. ‘Laura said that? Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure.’ Gabriel smiled coaxingly. ‘Why not?’
‘It’s a long time since your mother and I spent even one night under the same roof,’ he said dryly. ‘And yet she’s casually suggesting we spend a fortnight together?’
Gabriel looked up to see a nurse stationed in the doorway, obviously about to suggest she leave. She stood up. ‘Mother rings up every night to see how you are. So what shall I say to her tonight? Yes, or no?’
Harry gazed up at his daughter in appeal. ‘What do you think I should do?’
‘Whatever you want to do,’ said Gabriel promptly. ‘Think it over—ponder a bit. Tell me what you decide when I come tomorrow.’
Laura Brett was rather amused to hear about her ex-husband’s astonishment. ‘I’ll ring him myself in the morning, and assure him that my offer was made with the best of intentions. And if it’s the prospect of my company that’s bothering him he can take someone else down to the cottage, free of charge, if he prefers. Is there someone else?’ she added.
‘No, Mother. At least, not as far as I know. Ask him yourself when you ring.’
By late the following afternoon, after working area by small area with agonising slowness, Gabriel had removed enough overpaint to reveal most of a second face. Like the first it was obscured by cracked, discoloured varnish, but the features were visible enough to show that the likeness between the two beauties was unmistakable.
‘Sisters?’ said Wayne in excitement.
‘Must be,’ said Gabriel, rotating her head on her neck in weariness. ‘We’ll see more tomorrow after I get the rest of this brown stuff off, maybe even find a signature.’ She glanced at her watch, hoping Adam would come soon, because she’d had enough for one day. While Wayne and Eddie went off with the drawings they were working on Gabriel took the headband off and looked down at the picture on the stand. Already there was a luminous quality to the faces, even through age-darkened varnish. This was very definitely no jobbing painter’s work. Which pointed to a wealthy background for the girls in the portrait. Who are you? she asked them silently, then started violently at the touch of a hand on her shoulder.
‘Sorry to startle you,’ said Adam Dysart.
Gabriel turned quickly. ‘I was miles away.’
‘We were right,’ he breathed, gazing down at the painting as though he’d found the Holy Grail. ‘There was someone hiding under there.’
‘You were right,’ corrected Gabriel. ‘A brace of sisters, do you think?’
‘Definitely. And I’m pretty certain who they are.’ He turned to look at her, his eyes bright with triumph. ‘Fancy a trip into Herefordshire on Sunday for some research?’
Gabriel thought about it, surprised by how much she fancied the idea. ‘You mean you don’t expect me to work over the weekend?’ she said in mock amazement.
‘Certainly not,’ he said virtuously. ‘I’m no slave-driver.’
Gabriel laughed, then waved at Wayne and Eddie hovering in the doorway. ‘Thanks, you two. You can call it a day. I’ll lock up.’
After the Harley-Davidson had zoomed off down the lane Adam, in ancient jeans and sweatshirt, helped Gabriel gather up the cotton swabs and tidy up, carried the canvas down to the vault with reverent hands, then accompanied Gabriel on a round of locking up, and this time accepted her offer of tea.
‘I’m dry as a bone,’ he confessed, as they strolled up to the house together. ‘I’ve just got back from London.’
After a grand reconciliation with Della?
‘I went to an auction in the West End yesterday,’ he went on, ‘stayed the night with Leo, then on to one of those huge open air sales on the way back today.’
‘Dressed like that?’ said Gabriel, wondering about Leo.
‘Not at the auction. But this is my usual camouflage for general sales. A pair of sunnies and a scruffy old hat and I could be anybody. I don’t go bargain-hunting in my best bespoke suiting, Miss Brett.’
‘Were you successful?’ she asked, preceding him into the kitchen, which was miraculously tidy, due to one of the twice weekly visits of Miss Edith Prince, who had ‘obliged’ for Lottie Hayward in the past, and still continued to do so for Harry Brett, to Gabriel’s everlasting gratitude.
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