Page 61 of A Curious Ending

Fiona ignored the question. ‘You mentioned there may be more of this set. Do you know that for certain?’ she asked.

Lara described the pieces she knew to be at Gillmore House and vaguely indicated that she had an idea where the other pieces might be.

‘So what do you think it is?’ Lara asked again.

Fiona turned the books around so Lara could see the illustrations in them. Abby had already been reading them over Fiona’s shoulder. ‘I think we need more coffee,’ Fiona said, ‘and if I’m right about this we might need a drink,’ she grinned.

After topping up their coffees, Fiona began, ‘This china is Meissen, as I expect you guessed. The style of painting seems to indicate a particular artist, Johann Gregorius Hvroldt. He created a palate of just sixteen colours of paints and enamels he believed should be used on porcelain, so that helps us with identification. He was working in Meissen in the first half of the 1700s. To give you an idea of how collectable his work is, a tea service was sold recently at auction for over £600,000. And that had the tea pot missing,’ Fiona added.

Lara could not believe what she was hearing. ‘I brought this here on the train, just wrapped up in a bit of tissue,’ Lara said, looking alarmed.

‘I do hope the good Mrs M has found a safe spot for the remaining set and is not a clumsy woman,’ Abby pronounced to the room in general.

Lara almost said ‘Amen’ out loud.

Meanwhile, Fiona was warming to her favourite subject. ‘Johann developed a style that had a strong oriental influence and that was obvious in the tea set that sold recently. Then he moved to a more naturalistic approach using landscapes and wildlife in his paintings. Discovering later examples of his work has been extremely difficult because the overall design of Meissen porcelain was changing. The shapes were getting more intricate and consequently there was less space on them for painting.’ Fiona’s green eyes were now glowing like a cat’s. ‘I really need to show this to my boss, Harold. He will be able to say for certain.’ Fiona drew a deep breath. ‘But what I suspect is that this is particularly rare as it combines the oriental with the naturalistic.’ Here Fiona pointed to the circle of birds on the lid. ‘I think this shows a transition of Johann moving from the old style to the new style. If that is the case, this is a later example of his work which, as I mentioned, is very rare indeed.’

Fiona and Lara sat staring at each other. ‘Who owns the rest of the set?’ Fiona asked anxiously.

‘I guess it’s owned by two men. The son of my friend and an antiques dealer who I think has some more of the service,’ Lara felt deflated. She couldn’t help thinking what a wonderful thing it would have been if Lady Porter had known. She would probably have mixed Long Island Tea in the teapot and thrown a Mad Hatter’s tea party. Now all she could imagine was a bout of unseemly greedy squabbling as the two men tried to make as much money as possible for themselves.

As if reading her thoughts Abby said, ‘It really would be too awful if one of the people who benefits from this is the very person who killed Lady Porter.’

After Fiona had written Lara a receipt, she escorted her from the utilitarian back offices through doors marked private to the marbled splendour of the main exhibition space. Fiona entertained her with stories of some of the china’s history and pointed out particular Meissen pieces she thought might interest Lara. As they approached the exit, they made a detour through the fashion section, at Lara’s request, and spent some moments studying the dresses on display that were dated from around 1820. Lara lost sight of Abby for a moment, before realising she had stopped some way behind her. Abby was standing stock-still, transfixed by the sight of a dress in ivory lace. Lara could not help wondering if Abby would appear in the shop wearing it one day. She did not put it past her.

Having said goodbye to Fiona, they emerged onto the broad street in front of the museum where the traffic was tooting and revving its way towards Knightsbridge. As it was a cold but sunny day Lara decided to walk towards the shops. ‘Well, we certainly have a motive,’ Lara declared, as they set off. ‘We just don’t know if it’s the right one. Or how it all fits together,’ she said, trying to assimilate all they had learnt.

‘Let us wait and see what Harold says,’ Abby advised.

By now they had reached the heart of Knightsbridge and they turned their attention to the serious job of dress hunting. The streets were busy with Christmas shoppers and everywhere they looked there were sparkling lights and sumptuous decorations. First, Lara took Abby to Harrods. Abby spent several minutes in front of the Harrods’ windows studying each one of the displays in turn. This year they had been decorated with scenes from an Edwardian circus and Abby was strongly reminded of Moulin Rouge. She was not sure about some of the more opulent decorations, which she considered vulgar, but she did like the food hall and the shiny scented brightness of the perfume hall. It was here that Abby lingered by a display of gardenia perfume, drawing in their scent and smiling reminiscently. However, it was in the quiet elegance of the clothes departments on the upper floors where she felt most at home. An assistant moved forward to help Lara, offering her suggestions and gathering dresses for her to try on. Abby settled on a nearby sofa ready to offer her advice. She knew she had an unerring eye when it came to fashion and she told Lara this.

The next hour passed in a delicious swirl of silk, satin and crepe. Lara wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for but she did know she wanted it to be long.

Some of her choices were dismissed by Abby, ‘Magenta is not your colour,’ or, ‘That may have been suitable for florists in my day, but I think we have established that you are a very different kind of woman.’ And, the most damning of all, ‘Aunt Augusta was very fond of peacock-blue.’ Some choices were met with measured approval, but neither Abby nor Lara felt they had found quite the right thing. Lara was secretly relieved. The assistant, who had joined in with great enthusiasm (despite her customer’s tendency to talk to herself) was bringing more and more expensive gowns forward for inspection. The prices made Lara blink.

‘I think we need a break,’ Lara decided and led Abby away to a café in Harvey Nichols. After a quick perusal of the dresses there, Lara remembered a small boutique she had frequented when she worked in the City and had the income to warrant almost weekly trips to Knightsbridge. After a few false starts, they found the shop tucked away at the back of Lowndes Square.

Lara had a good feeling about it as soon as she stepped over the threshold. And she was right. Within five minutes she was choosing between two beautiful dresses. She had also found the shoes. In fact she had fallen in love with the shoes first; kitten heeled, the colour of peonies. Lara decided that even if she had to turn up in her underwear she was wearing these shoes to the ball. Holding up the two dresses she was undecided.

‘Have both,’ Abby said unhelpfully, as she gazed longingly at a pair of blush crystal drop earrings with pearl button tops displayed on the counter by the till. Reluctantly leaving the earrings behind, Abby decided to take a hand in proceedings. She ordered Lara to try the first dress on again. It was deep raspberry-pink velvet and had small straps that sat just off the shoulders and a plunging back. It hugged Lara’s curves in a most satisfying way, and the bottom of the dress swished when she walked. It was a head-turner. Lara held the second dress up for Abby to view alongside it. ‘Who do you think about when you are wearing that dress?’ Abby said, pointing to the pink one.

‘Julian,’ Lara said as quick as a heartbeat. ‘I want him to see me and weep,’ she added.

‘And the second dress?’ Abby asked.

Lara smiled, studying it. ‘I think of me.’ The decision had been made. It was that simple.

A few minutes later they were back on the street. Lara was carrying a pleasingly large and luxurious carrier bag with masses of tissue paper poking out of the top. ‘Now,’ Lara said, beckoning Abby, ‘come with me.’ They headed north and soon reached the outskirts of Hyde Park. Dodging cars and cyclists, Lara crossed over and led Abby along the bridle path. Some Horse Guards were out riding along the strip and Lara could feel, as well as hear, their hooves pounding the sand.

‘Thank you,’ Abby said, looking around and remembering all the times she had ridden and driven in this park with friends. ‘I only wish I had brought Balthazar with me today,’ she said wistfully.

Lara had visions of Balthazar on the train and was extremely glad that she had not.

Chapter 31

Lara’s mum met them from the train and was full of news. She had evidently had a wonderful day and it seemed was now a firm friend of Becky. It soon became apparent that Lara’s mum had spoken to everyone who had come into the shop and many who were just passing by. Lara could well believe it. What took her by surprise was how much her mother now knew about her customers. ‘Well, Mrs Sutton, from the flower arranging group, she’s off to New Zealand to see her son, which will be wonderful at this time of year. I was telling her about our trip two years ago. Mr Whitard was in the shop at the time, and he told us how he had proposed to his wife in a canoe on Lake Tekapo. He was buying her roses for their anniversary. Forty-seven years he said it is now. And Dr Patil was in for a plant for Lady Porter’s grave, poor man. He told me she was the love of his life, but they only became closer in the last few years…’

Lara stared at her mother, marvelling at how her mum always got people to talk about the most intimate details of their lives.