CERENSTHORPE ABBEY – PRESENT DAY
Tabitha hurried towards her office. There was no printer in her cottage, and the file Mikey had sent was explosive. While she had been awaiting his email, she had called Tamar.
‘As soon as it arrives, send me the file,’ her sister had instructed. ‘It’s important you’re not the only person in the house with the information.’
‘And what should I do?’
‘Print it out, then show it to Molly.’
‘She’s on holiday with a friend,’ Tabitha had replied.
‘Damn, she’s your biggest ally. You’re going to have to show it to Gulliver and Edith then,’ she said, then hesitated before continuing. ‘Billy and I are staying with his sister in Looe, we could be with you in about four hours. I don’t like the idea of you being at Cerensthorpe with this woman.’
Tabitha had been about to protest, to claim she could cope, but she realised this was false bravery. ‘Would you both mind?’ she had asked. ‘It would be great to have some support.’
She had heard Tamar whispering to Billy.
‘Yes, Billy’s fine with it,’ she had said, then lowered her voice. ‘I think he’s glad of an excuse to leave; his brother-in-law driveshim mad. We’ll leave in the next half an hour and be with you as soon as we can.’
When the file arrived, the sisters had been horrified. Five marriage certificates accompanied by photographs of Lucia in a range of disguises had opened first, this was followed by a series of accounts showing both the purchase and commissioning of fake paintings which were then sold in the gallery as rediscovered classics. The most upsetting document for Tabitha was a fake authentication for a supposed ‘lost’ painting by Gulliver’s favourite artist, Leonora Carrington, with a profile on Gulliver and scribbled across the top in Lucia’s handwriting:
Possible new mark?
‘This is horrendous,’ Tamar had said, calling back from the passenger seat of her husband’s car. ‘If this is to be believed, she deliberately targeted Gull. I need to make a call.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Tabitha had asked.
‘Ring Zanna and ask her if she knows a good criminal lawyer.’
Tabitha had sent the file to her elder sister Suzannah too and saved it on a memory stick, which she hid in the pocket of her coat which hung at the back of her wardrobe.
It was rare for her to use her office at the weekend and as she followed the gravel path, ignoring the stones skittering out from underneath her hurrying feet, she created numerous excuses why this printing could not wait until Monday. In the event, she met no one and her presence went unchallenged.
Tabitha knew Edith was in her suite and, despite several attempts at calling him, Gulliver’s phone continued to go straight to voicemail. The house was unnaturally quiet; there was no sign of Lacey or Nicola or any of the other people who helped to keep Cerensthorpe Abbey functioning.
Tabitha fired up her computer and opened her email. She did not want to risk downloading the file on the Cerensthorpe Abbey system, instead she opened the attachments in email, printing each one, before closing it.
The file was huge, and it was a slow, painstaking process. When she had finished, she checked the computer thoroughly, deleting any evidence of her subterfuge. As she worked, every whisper of wind, each call of a bird or creak of a floorboard made her start. The documents she was printing were inflammatory, and she was unsure of the reaction they would receive. How would Gulliver feel when he discovered his marriage was a sham?
The final incriminating page slid from the printer. Tabitha checked her hard drive one final time, ensuring she had left no trace, and shut the computer down. She shuffled the three copies into neat piles and opening her desk drawer pulled out three A4 envelopes, sliding a set into each one.
‘What are you doing?’
Lucia’s voice was like ice in the heated fug of the room.
Tabitha forced a smile before turning to face the other woman.
‘I’m printing a few things,’ she said.
‘On a Saturday? I thought Edith insisted on weekends off.’
‘She does; this is a favour for my sister,’ replied Tabitha. ‘Edith gave me permission.’
‘Did she?’ said Lucia. ‘You and Edith are close, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, she’s always been very welcoming,’ replied Tabitha.
‘Lucky you,’ said Lucia and there was genuine regret in her voice. This sadness made her seem approachable for the first time.
