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But she turned towards the painting again as soon as River was out of sight. River had been dismissive about the whole thing, and perhaps she was being obsessive, but she couldn’t get this woman out of her head.
‘OK, Clo, that is obsessive,’ she told herself, giving a sardonic smile.
She rattled the door handle to the third floor once more but the door remained locked, as she’d known it would be.
Who knew what lay undiscovered above their heads? The only way to find out, she realised, was to get hold of the key and find out for herself. Before the developers did their worst and stripped the whole place bare.
15
RIVER
River only felt himself properly breathe out when he reached the hall and Clara was two floors above him – no doubt staring at that portrait again.
He hadn’t expected to see her on her own at the end of the landing and he’d almost turned quietly and gone back downstairs.
But he’d decided to put on his big boy pants and have a word. It was ridiculous to run away. They’d been friends once. Good friends – and there was a time he’d hoped they might be more. But he’d just been fooling himself.
His mind flitted back to his first and only kiss with Clara when they were both fifteen. It was initiated by him after he’d realised that his feelings of friendship towards Clara had changed somewhere along the line into love. At least it felt like love back then. But Clara hadn’t felt the same way.
‘Idiot,’ he said out loud into the hall before looking around to make sure he hadn’t been spotted talking to himself. Bartie would think he was losing his mind.
But he had been an idiot to risk ruining his friendship with Clara. Especially as he’d known by then that he and his mother would soon be leaving for Australia. Though perhaps that knowledge had given him the confidence, or the desperation, to lean in and kiss her as they’d sat talking by the stream one September evening. His heart had been full of how much he was going to miss her.
At first, she’d moved back, startled, as his lips touched hers, which was hardly surprising. The idea of leading up to the kiss gradually hadn’t crossed his mind. It was more a case of ‘now or never’. But then, she’d seemed to lean into it – into him – and kiss him back. Though he couldn’t swear to it later because the whole thing had been so brief and awkward.
Mrs N had suddenly called out Clara’s name, letting her know it was time to go home. And though the two of them couldn’t be seen in the darkness, Clara had leapt to her feet, gabbled a goodbye and hurried off.
He’d never had a chance to talk to her about it because his mum had decided she could cope with Geoffrey no longer and had driven them away for good the very next morning. And though River had sent a text to Clara about their hasty flit, she hadn’t turned up to say goodbye. That was when he’d fully realised that his clumsy lunge at her hadn’t been welcome.
Did she remember it still? he wondered. Probably not, after all this time. He was no doubt giving it far too much significance and she’d forgotten all about his adolescent faux pas.
‘Nothing to do, River?’ His father had just stepped into the hall from the garden. He shook soil from his shoes which tumbled across the floor tiles. ‘I’m sure Bartie would welcome a hand with making arrangements for his developer contact to visit.’ He tilted his head towards Bartie, who had followed him into the hall.
‘Of course,’ said River, wondering if the two of them had been walking together. ‘But maybe you and I could have a cup of tea together first? We can talk about what you’re planning to do after the manor’s sold. Or not, if you’d rather have a break from it all. I can tell you about what I’ve been up to recently in Australia.’
Geoffrey regarded him for a moment, an emotion that River couldn’t read playing across his face.
‘I’d love to, but I’m afraid I have a lot of paperwork to get through before we can advance the sale.’
‘Would you like me to help you with it? I’m a whizz with paperwork.’
River smiled but his father, looking solemn, shook his head.
‘No, no. Thank you for your offer but I’m sure I can manage, and Bartie has offered to help if I get stuck. So I’ll see you at dinner time.’
He turned into the library and shut the door behind him. The sound of the closing door felt like a slap across River’s face.
‘All right, mate?’ asked Bartie in a very bad Australian accent. ‘Phew, it’s warm out there. Not as hot as you Aussies are used to, but boiling for us Brits.’
River dragged his attention back to his cousin. ‘I’m still a Brit too.’
But Bartie wrinkled his nose. ‘Nah, not really. Your life’s over there now, with your mum and your girlfriend.’
‘I told you in the car, I don’t have a girlfriend.’
‘That’s a shame, but there’s nothing wrong with choosing to be on your own.’
‘I was in a serious relationship for a while, with a woman called Kitty,’ said River, keen to wipe the patronising pity from Bartie’s face. ‘She was lovely but it didn’t work out.’
