Page 68 of Against Ebony Irish Seas

She dialed her mother, and after three rings, her mother came on the line. “Darling, how are you? This whole thing is absolutely nasty. I was so angered by being called a pornographic painter again that we displayed the headline on the wall in my gallery showing. People were absolutely outraged!Le Mondehas an article about it in today’s paper, did you see? Ghislaine wanted to rub those ignorant reporters’ faces in their stupidity and highlight the ongoing problem we have with people with this mentality.”

She couldn’t have hoped for a better segue. “It’s gotten worse, Mother, and I need Ghislaine’s help,” she said and proceeded to describe last night’s incident in as steady a voice as possible.

When she finished, her mother was silent. Silent. A rarity. “Are you still there?” she asked.

“They paintedGo HomeSluton the door to the house where you were sleeping! How is Greta—”

“She was staying with Sandrine and Eoghan, thank God, and I’m sending her with them to Provence while we handle things.”

“Handle what?” her mother practically croaked. “Thepoliceshould be handling this!”

Here was the tricky part. “They aren’t being very supportive, Mother.”

“You mean they agree with the vandals?” She cursed fluidly in French. “Typical! I don’t know why I’m surprised. The police told me I was asking for it with my art. They never said that about your father’s paintings. Not once! I’ll never forget when a police officer in New York City told me it might be better for everyone if I painted fruit. Fruit! They would never say that to a man.”

Reeling as she was, shock still rolled over her. She couldn’t imagine anyone telling her mother to paint fruit. Or what to paint for that matter. Why would someone think they had the right? It was insane. “I never knew that story, Mama.”

“Of course not. You were eight at the time, but can you believe it? This ingrate was a decorated officer in New York City! The gallery was in Soho, and he was like, ‘Lady, you’re going out of your way to be provocative.’ I was like, ‘Monsieur, I am only trying to paint what I see in my mind and feel in my soul.’ But that’s enough about me. You need Ghislaine, and Ghislaine you will have. I will call her the moment we hang up. Then I will take the TGV down to see my granddaughter. Unless you want me to come to Ireland to be with you.”

She fumbled with her phone but caught it before it dropped. “You just had your showing, Mother. Greta will be fine, and so will I. Things are just unpleasant now.”

“Are you taking precautions?”

“Linc has hired a few security officers and an investigator, and some people are making the house where I’m staying safer. I’m trying to stay optimistic.”

“You mentioned Greta was with Sandrine last night. Does that mean you have a man in your life?”

She’d hoped that detail would slip past her mother, but her mother liked to joke that she could smell sex from a hundred yards away after all of her husband’s infidelities. “Yes, I do. He’s a wonderful man and a respected schoolteacher as well as the head of the children’s arts program they’re planning at the arts center.”

Another pause. “Does Sandrine approve?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” her mother said softly. “She did not approve of Franz and neither did I.”

She sat back in her chair. “You never said.”

“Why would I? It’s your life. The affairs of your heart—like anyone—are yours and yours alone.Alors, now I will call Ghislaine and rage at her on your behalf. Expect her to call you shortly.”

Rage on her behalf?

“Thank you.”

“And Sophie… You tell Linc to call me. For anything. I have a lot of experience dealing with this kind of thing. I’d…like to be helpful if I can.”

Her throat thickened. Maybe the new understanding she had with her mother wasn’t one-sided. “I’d like that too.À tout à l’heure, Maman.”

“Be well,ma petite.”

There had been a loving caress to her mother’s voice, and she’d called Sophie her little one, something she hadn’t done in ages. She reached for her tea to steady herself and waited for Ghislaine to call.

When the sun came out moments later, Sophie watched as the green of Bets’ yard brightened and the leaves on the surrounding trees became gold-edged. But that was what light did. It transformed everything it touched.

That was what they would have to do to turn things around.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

The sun was setting when they set the final wall in place.

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