“But have you seen what they’ve written about him?”
“Yes.” Mum reaches for the valpolicella. “We have. Wine, darling?”
“But…” Tonya sinks down into a chair and looks around at us all with an aggrieved, bewildered expression. She clearly thought we would all be up in arms on Uncle Bill’s behalf. Not merrily tucking into dough balls.
“Here you are.” Mum slides a wineglass across. “We’ll get you a menu.”
I can see Tonya’s mind working as she unbuttons her jacket and slings it over a chair. I can see her recalibrating the situation. She’s not going to stick up for Uncle Bill if no one else does.
“So, who uncovered it all?” she says at last, and takes a gulp of wine. “Some investigative journalist?”
“Lara,” says Dad with a little smile.
“Lara?” She looks more resentful than ever. “What do you mean, Lara?”
“I found out about Great-Aunt Sadie and the picture,” I explain. “I put two and two together. It was me.”
“But…” Tonya’s cheeks are puffing out in disbelief. “But you weren’t mentioned in the papers.”
“I prefer to keep a low profile,” I say cryptically, like a superhero who vanishes namelessly into the darkness and doesn’t need any reward other than doing good.
Although, truth be told, I would have loved to be mentioned in the papers. But no one bothered to come and interview me, even though I straightened my hair especially, just in case. All the reports just said, The discovery was made by a family member .
Family member . Hmph.
“But I don’t get it.” Tonya’s baleful blue eyes are on me. “Why did you start poking around in the first place?”
“I had an instinct something was wrong regarding Great-Aunt Sadie. But no one would listen to me,” I can’t help adding pointedly. “At the funeral, everyone thought I was a nutcase.”
“You said she’d been murdered,” objects Tonya. “She wasn’t murdered.”
“I had a general instinct that something was amiss,” I say with a dignified air. “So I chose to follow up my suspicions on my own. And, after some research, they were confirmed.” Everyone’s hanging on my words as if I’m a university lecturer. “I then approached experts at the London Portrait Gallery, and they verified my discovery.”
“Indeed they did.” Dad smiles at me.
“And guess what?” I add proudly. “They’re having the painting valued and Uncle Bill’s giving Dad half of what it’s worth!”
“No way.” Tonya claps a hand to her mouth. “No way . How much will that be?”
“Millions, apparently.” Dad looks uncomfortable. “Bill’s adamant.”
“It’s only what you’re owed, Dad,” I say for the millionth time. “He stole it from you. He’s a thief!”
Tonya seems a bit speechless. She takes a dough ball and rips it with her teeth.
“Did you see that editorial in The Times?” she says at last. “Brutal.”
“It was rather savage.” Dad winces. “We do feel for Bill, despite it all-”
“No, we don’t!” Mum interrupts. “Speak for yourself.”
“Pippa!” Dad looks taken aback.
“I don’t feel for him one little bit.” She looks around the table defiantly. “I feel… angry. Yes. Angry.”
I gape at Mum in surprise. My whole life, I don’t think I’ve ever known Mum to actually say she was angry. Across the table, Tonya looks just as gobsmacked. She raises her eyebrows questioningly at me, and I give a tiny shrug in return.
“What he did was shameful and unforgivable,” Mum continues. “Your father always tries to see the good side of people, to find the excuse. But sometimes there isn’t a good side. There isn’t an excuse.”
I’ve never known Mum so militant. Her cheeks are pink and she’s clutching her wineglass as though she’s about to punch the sky with it.
“Good for you, Mum!” I exclaim.
“And if your father keeps trying to defend him-”
“I’m not defending him!” says Dad at once. “But he’s my brother. He’s family. It’s difficult…”
He sighs heavily. I can see the disappointment etched in the lines under his eyes. Dad wants to find the good in everyone. It’s part of his makeup.
“Your brother’s success cast a long shadow over our family.” Mum’s voice is trembling. “It affected all of us in different ways. Now it’s time for us all to be free. That’s what I think. Draw a line.”
“I recommended Uncle Bill’s book to my book club, you know,” says Tonya suddenly. “I made eight sales for him.” She looks almost more outraged by this than anything. “And it was all lies! He’s despicable!” She turns on Dad. “And if you don’t think so, too, Dad, if you don’t feel livid with him, then you’re a mug!”
I can’t help giving an inward cheer. Sometimes Tonya’s forthright, trampling-over-feet way is just what you need.
“I am livid,” Dad says at last. “Of course I am. It’s just an adjustment. To realize your younger brother is quite such a selfish… unprincipled… shit.” He breathes out hard. “I mean, what does that say?”
“It says we forget about him,” says Mum firmly. “Move on. Start living the rest of our lives without feeling like second-class citizens.”