‘Not long.’ Patrick’s attempt at sincerity did him no favours. She didn’t believe a word he said.
‘How long?’
‘A year? Maybe two.’
‘And the pictures in the gallery and in the lock-up, is that all that’s left?’
Shame-faced, he nodded.
Gone. They’d all gone. All that work.
What started as a slow simmer in the police station, like a smoking volcano, exploded into a full eruption which she couldn’t put the lid back on. Her face turned red and her palms itched. With her feet planted firmly on the pavement, pugnacious and aggressive, she didn’t care what she looked like or what anyone thought.
‘Ella, you need to calm down. You’re being far too emotional about this.’
She froze.Far too emotional about this.The words seeped in like poison, reaching into her heart, an echo of the exact words she’d heard once before. Every nerve ending in her body stood to attention as rage, despair, desolation and fury fused in one coordinated flare of white hot painful combustion. She couldn’t be calm. She couldn’t even put words together. They’d come out in a crazy-woman stream of consciousness uncontrolled rant. So, raising the picture with both hands, she brought it down as hard as she could on top of Patrick’s head.
‘Fuck.’ Devon breathed as Patrick crumpled to the pavement.
She watched dispassionately as the man she’d once loved with all her heart rubbed his head, looking unaccountably aggrieved. ‘Ow,’ he wailed.
Devon took the picture from her and turned to the crumpled figure on the floor.
‘Ella’s solicitor will be in touch.’ He tugged at her hand and pushing through the crowd of people who had materialised, led her to his car, saying, ‘Show’s over, people. Nothing to see here.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘I can’t believe I did that,’ said Ella for the third time, as Devon manoeuvred the car out of the narrow side street.
‘Neither could Patrick,’ replied Devon and even though his face was in profile as he concentrated on the stop–start bumper to bumper traffic, she could tell from the odd contortions his chin went through that he was trying to hide his amusement.
‘It’s not funny. In the space of one day, I’ve become a felon and committed two serious crimes, stealing and assault. I’ve never even been in a police station before.’
‘That makes two of us,’ said Devon.
Ella rested her chin on her knees, her head felt too heavy to hold up any longer. Who knew that high drama could be so draining? ‘This has to be the worst day of my life. I was arrested in front of a whole gallery of people and minutes from being put in a cell!’
‘I did wonder, when I got there, whether I should have brought legal back-up with me.’
‘Oh no, they supply that. Duty solicitor.’ Ella felt positively knowledgeable and not in a good way. ‘They’d called one.’ She picked at the fabric stretched taut over her knees. ‘What must you think of me? I’ve never done anything like that before.’
‘Done what? Stealing a painting or assaulting someone?’ He shot her a cheerful look. ‘I think you’ve gone up in my estimation. A woman who’s prepared to take charge.’ His hands drummed on the steering wheel as the car inched forward in the grindingly slow traffic.
‘Has he really taken all your pictures?’
‘Yup. There are still a few at the gallery, although marked as sold. I’m not sure where I stand on those.’ A flicker of sadness ran through her. She should be so proud of all those red stickers denoting the work had been sold. Patrick had denied her that pleasure.
‘So has he been pocketing the money?’ Devon’s attempt at diplomacy rather than accusing Patrick outright of being a thief made her like him all the more.
‘Pocketing is one way of putting it. As I haven’t seen any money and I doubt he ever had any intention of passing it my way, I’d say he’s been stealing it,’ she said with a bitter edge to her voice. ‘As this is all that’s left of my work, I’d guess he’s been selling my pictures for years.’
That huge tax statement now rang alarm bells. ‘I don’t know what else he’s been up to either but it’s not looking good. He’s managed all my business interests for years. I don’t know where to start trying to untangle it all. He deals with my publisher, the merchandising stuff and my artwork. I loved your parting shot about my solicitor being in touch, as if you knew I’d got one, which I incidentally I haven’t but I’m thinking I need one. Do you know anyone?’
Devon let out a long unhappy sigh. ‘Unfortunately I do. An old university friend. I’ll contact him and see if he’ll do a bog-off deal, buy one get one free.’
Devon’s stomach let out an almighty rumble as his car pulled onto the drive outside Bets’ house, the wheels scrunching on gravel. He killed the engine and switched the lights off. Ella welcomed the quiet as she opened her door and stepped out. After a day in London, it seemed incredibly peaceful. For a minute she listened to the heavy silence of the country evening, which when you really took notice, wasn’t so quiet after all. Wind rustled the hedgerow, teasing the leaves and branches; she couldhear the distant cry of a bird in the sky as it wheeled away to the far distant horizon and, closer to home, the steady baa of sheep was coming from the next field.
She heard Devon’s stomach grumble again.
