‘It’s the Brit Awards tonight,’ said Cassandra quickly.
‘Perhaps they’ve gone up to London,’ offered Miss Broughton weakly.
‘Leave it with me,’ said Cassandra, slamming down the phone and calling Rob Holland.
Stella didn’t tell Tom what her father had said. Instead, she made an excuse about needing to check something at work and drove straight to Winterfold.
‘Sorry Emma,’ she said, embracing her friend who came to the door looking pale and drained. ‘I know it’s late, but I had to speak to you.’
‘Is everything OK?’
Stella glanced around.
‘Where’s Rob?’
‘He’s at the Brit Awards tonight but he’s coming back to Winterfold later. He insists on driving back to Chilcot every night from the office. You know he’s usually only here at weekends.’
‘Protecting his girl. Sweet,’ smiled Stella.
‘Without sounding a coward, I’ve been glad. I’ve been quite jumpy being here in this big house on my own.’
They went through into the kitchen and Emma began to make them coffee.
‘So have you heard from the police again?’ asked Stella.
‘No, not yet.’
For a split second Emma glanced at Stella suspiciously. Why was she asking? What was she trying to find out? Then she turned back to the kettle and shook her head. Stop being so bloody paranoid, Emma scolded herself. Stella is your friend. Emma was sure she was going slowly crazy, doubting everyone, looking for hidden meanings or motives in everything everyone did or said.
‘I was in Oxford with Tom this afternoon,’ said Stella.
‘Tom?’ said Emma, her eyebrows raised. ‘Anything I should know about?
‘Actually, yes,’ said Stella with a smirk. ‘I pounced on him on Tuesday. And before you ask he’s a very good kisser.’
Despite her gloom, Emma laughed.
‘Well, I’m glad to hear it. Does that make up for the fact that you disapprove of his lifestyle choices?’
Stella took a sip of warm, rich coffee.
‘He says he’s only had one joint since Christmas. And I think I believe him. Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about.’
There were a few moments of silence before Stella spoke again.
‘We went to Julia’s gallery and I saw a painting that I think you should take a look at.’
Stella reached in her handbag, feeling a stab of guilt. Julia was Tom’s mum and had been very good to him, plus she was helping out her father with the exhibition, but she had to know if her suspicions were correct. She handed Emma the digital camera and scrolled to the picture she had taken in Julia’s gallery.
‘Do you recognize this? It was in the store room.’
Emma nodded, a faraway look in her eye as if she were trying to remember.
‘It’s Saul’s. Yes, definitely. We had a huge clear-out before Rob moved in. Julia took away several things from the attic to be restored and valued. I made an inventory, although I suppose it was lost in the fire. After my accident I forgot all about it, but I do remember that painting. The colours … I don’t exactly have a photographic memory for art, but this I do remember.’
Emma looked up at Stella.
‘But why are you showing this to me now? It’s not as if she stole it or anything.’