Page 48 of Traitors Gate

Beth didn’t want to admit that it was William who’d made the suggestion after she’d told him the truth. In fact, he’d gone one step further and recommended she check another paint sample before he would be convinced. A week later, when the test result came back, he reluctantly gave Christina the benefit of the doubt.

‘You’ve done wonders with this café,’ said Christina, deliberately changing the subject. ‘It may be the Fitz and not the Ritz, but a great improvement on the last time I was here.’

‘It’s kind of you to say so,’ said Beth. ‘We even have visitors who come to the café without going into the museum, which increases our footfall, and the numbers help towards our government grant.’

‘Admit it, Beth, you’re every bit as devious as I am.’

‘But only when it’s in aid of a good cause,’ responded Beth, which caused Christina to change the subject once again.

‘How are the twins?’

‘They’re both spending every spare moment working on their prize essay about a seventeenth-century rogue called Colonel Blood, who’s looking more like your ex-husband every day.’

‘And Jojo?’

‘She’s already drawing her own greeting cards, which Peter sells at a profit.’

‘Perhaps they should join—’

‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ interrupted a man sitting at the next table, ‘but could I steal one of your sugar lumps?’

‘Of course,’ said Christina, handing over the bowl. She turned back and whispered, ‘Perhaps you should have a sugar bowl on every table.’

‘We do,’ said Beth. ‘I think he’s more interested in you than the sugar lumps.’ Christina gave him a second look. ‘Mind you,’ continued Beth, ‘he’s not in your usual age bracket.’

‘He’s older than me!’ protested Christina.

‘That’s what I meant.’

‘Aren’t we sharp today,’ said Christina, giving the man a third look.

‘Must dash,’ said Beth, after she’d drained her coffee. ‘We’re making preparations for an exciting new exhibition.’

‘Any clues?’

‘Not yet. So much depends on whether the Prado will play ball.’

‘Then it has to be Goya or Velasquez.’

‘Not bad. I’ll tell you more when I get back from Madrid, along with the latest episode of Colonel Blood,’ Beth promised as she leant over and kissed Christina on both cheeks before she left.

‘Thank you,’ said the man sitting at the next table, as he passed back the sugar bowl.

Christina gave him a fourth look. Beth was right. He must have been around forty-five, perhaps fifty, with a handsome rugged face and strands of grey appearing at the edges of his dark wavy hair. But it was his solemn grey eyes that made her look more closely. She also clocked the Patek Philippe watch and the gold cufflinks.

‘Do you come here often?’ he teased.

‘Yes,’ replied Christina, rather pompously. ‘I’m on the board of the Fitz.’

‘It’s one of my favourite galleries,’ said the stranger, sounding serious. ‘The Rubens, Vermeer, Rembrandt and Frans Hals are all quite exceptional.’

‘Do you have a favourite among them?’

‘Probably Rubens’Christ’s Descent from the Cross,’ he replied. ‘A genuine masterpiece.’

Christina smiled. ‘I convinced my ex-husband to donate that particular work to the museum.’

‘I’m surprised he was willing to part with it,’ he paused, ‘or you.’

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