Читать книгу All the Little Lies - Chris Curran - Страница 18

Eve caught the train for London an hour or so after Alex left for work. She hadn’t told him she was going to see Ben Houghton. On the drive home from Newcastle it was clear he thought all they could do was wait and hope to hear from the solicitors. Eve doubted that would ever happen, but if Alex believed she was going to leave it there it might be for the best. This was her problem, not his.

She couldn’t just wait because even if the collector did get in touch he or she might know nothing about Stella. She needed to focus on the people who definitely did. Apart from her own parents that meant Ben and Maggie. If those two really did have an affair, as her dad suspected, Ben might know where to find Maggie. And Stella had been in Italy with Maggie when she died. If anyone knew the truth of what had happened it had to be her.

Ben and his wife lived in Mayfair. Eve’s train came in at Charing Cross and it wasn’t far on the tube after that. It was a short walk to their street, but she had begun to feel huge. It had turned bitterly cold and the wind spat rain into her face as she searched for the house. Her back ached and she rubbed her belly and made a silent apology to the baby. I promise I’ll take it easy tomorrow, my darling.

Although Ben and David had been colleagues and had known each other since university they hadn’t exactly been friends and had rarely seen each other since her dad left the business. So Eve had never met him or his wife.

The house was an elegant Regency building with stone steps leading up to a heavy front door that shone with black paint and golden brass. Eve had to stand for a moment breathing heavily before she knocked.

The woman who opened the door was not young, but in her grey woollen dress, with her blonde hair in a simple up-do she could have stepped off a catwalk. She smiled. ‘Yes?’

Eve swallowed. ‘Hello, Mrs Houghton, I’m Eve Ballantyne, David’s daughter. I wonder if I could have a word with your husband.’

Pamela blinked. ‘Well this is a surprise, but how nice to see you. The last time we met you were in your cradle.’ She glanced towards the stairs and her voice dropped. ‘Do come in, but can I ask you to speak quietly? Ben’s having a nap.’

In the spacious hallway Pamela gestured towards a door. ‘Let’s go and sit down. You look tired.’

Eve felt very awkward. ‘I’m fine, but I’ve come quite a long way, so would you mind if I used your toilet?’

‘It’s just there.’ Pamela pointed to a door at one side of the hall. Next to it was a tiny lift with a glass door. Just large enough for a wheelchair.

The cloakroom was as big as the bathroom in Eve and Alex’s house and far more luxurious. It was also beautifully warm, and Eve took her time, glad to have a chance to thaw, but also to think.

When she came out Pamela was standing at the bottom of the elegant white staircase. Eve went to speak, but Pamela placed her finger to her lips, whispering, ‘I’m afraid Ben isn’t up to seeing anyone. But I’m sure I can help.’ She pointed to a nearby door.

In the long living room, a bow window with sweeping green curtains at one end and tall French windows at the other, Eve perched on a pale leather sofa and tried to relax. Pamela sat opposite, smiling warmly at her.

‘How are Jill and David? It’s too long since we’ve seen them.’

‘They’re fine, still living in Hastings, and I’m back down there now too.’

‘That must be lovely for them.’ Pamela looked as if she was going to say more, but Eve’s movement stopped her and she made a little, go on, gesture.

‘I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed you, but I just discovered that my birth mother was Stella Carr.’ Pamela remained expressionless. ‘As you probably know there’s a new exhibition of her work at the Baltic Gallery and I wondered if Ben had contributed any works to it?’

Pamela’s light blue eyes flickered towards the door. ‘Actually I didn’t know about the Baltic and I don’t think Ben does either. We don’t keep up with the art world nowadays, I’m afraid. It’s a shame really, but we’ve never been collectors. So, no, we didn’t contribute.’

Eve took a breath. She hadn’t planned to say this to Pamela, but it looked as if she wasn’t going to be able to talk to Ben. ‘Well, I’m trying to get in touch with Stella’s friend, Maggie de Santis. Do you have any idea where she is now?’

Smoothing her hair, Pamela said, ‘What did you say your mother’s name was?’

‘Stella Carr.’

Pamela looked towards the French windows and the garden where the dark silhouette of a tree was just visible, then turned to Eve, her forehead creased. ‘No, I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. I don’t remember Stella or any of her friends, and I doubt my husband does either.’

She glanced at her silver watch, and Eve took the hint and stood.

‘Well, thank you anyway. Will you ask him about them for me, in case he recalls anything at all?’

Pamela led the way saying, ‘Of course, but your father is more likely to know something. He organized that young artists’ show. Ben just supported him. And, as David would be the first to admit, I’m afraid the whole thing turned out to be a costly mistake.’

By now they had reached the front door and as Pamela opened it a gust of cold air blew through the hall. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, but do give your parents my best wishes. Tell them we must catch up soon.’

On the steps again Eve stood for a moment, almost certain she could feel someone watching her. She shivered and looked left and right down the street, but there was nobody in sight.