by Janet Pywell
‘I don’t think you’re in a position to give me a lecture on integrity so, let me have it.’
She tilts her head and when she holds it out I grip it tightly. The masterpiece is in my hand. It is finally mine.
I twist the roll to read the address written in my hurried scrawl. It’s addressed to me, care of: Carmen Muñoz, Curator, Picasso Museum, Malaga.
I’ve done it! I sigh and lean back contentedly. I have all the time I need.
Josephine’s stare is hot and my legs are trapped under the sheet. I try to tug it free but she doesn’t move.
‘How was Malaga?’ I ask.
‘It was sunny and warm. I’m pleased to get back in the same day.’ Her gaze cuts me like a razor and I cannot meet her eye.
‘How’s Carmen?’
‘She would like to see you. She was concerned. Dolores had told her about the fire.’ When she pauses I look up. ‘She remembers you were very kind to her when she spilt with Javier.’
‘It was a long time ago.’ Outside, palm trees illuminated in the streetlight bend with the breeze. I want to take the gauze off my head. I want to be normal, healthy and free. I want to run and laugh and live and go out for dinner.
‘I also met Yolanda. We had tapas together near the airport. She told me that she has done most of your tattoos.’
‘Aren’t they inspirational?’
‘There’s nothing wrong in having friends who love you.’
‘I’m fine.’
I trace the postmark very gently with my fingertip, remembering the morning Josephine had appeared in Arta and I took her to the art studio for the first time. After she left I had asked Maria to help me and I had sent her to the post office.
‘You could have a very happy life, Mikky. You have good friends who care about you,’ she insists.
‘It’s too late.’
‘For what?’
‘I don’t know – everything.’
‘Not everyone gets things right all the time. But you must give them the opportunity to put right what they have done wrong, and the one thing I have learned is that there’s more pleasure in life if you share – especially with those you love.’
‘I’m not sharing this. Not with you – not anyone.’
‘I don’t want it. It’s not important to me. But I would like you to do the right thing, Mikky. You could get a reward from the Museum. You could pretend that you did it to recover it for them and then you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life in hiding.’
‘I’m going somewhere warm and far away.’
‘It will be a hard and difficult life running, always looking over your shoulder, never knowing if you’re being followed or that someone has found out. It would be like always dwelling on the past instead of looking forward to the future.’
‘You’re wasting your breath.’
‘But if you return it, Mikky, if you give it back, then you will become the hero.’
‘Like you and the Golden Icon?’
She ignores my sarcasm. ‘If you like yes, but this time – with you – it’s different. I’m lucky to be alive but my career is over and I lost Raffaelle. I wish I could change things or have done things differently – but I think everyone in the world feels like that about something in their lives. We would all like to rewrite some of our past, take back an action or even an unkind gesture or a word – but we can’t. That is why it is called the past. But we can change the future, Mikky. The future is in our hands and there is no one else who is responsible or who will do it for us. We can make a difference to our own lives but we must stop blaming others.’
I look up at her sharply. ‘I don’t blame you.’
‘It wouldn’t make any difference, Mikky. I can’t change what I did. I can’t begin to imagine the girl I was at twenty-two or understand her actions. I can only give you all my love at this moment in time. I can only promise to give you all my support and I hope that one day you will love me, as I love you. You’re my daughter. I would like you to do the right thing so that you can live with yourself because, believe me, living as a person who has done wrong, who has caused hurt to the person they love most in the world is the most awful thing to live with. I’m not proud of myself. I’m disappointed and ashamed that I let you down and that I wasn’t there for you. But I cannot make excuses. I have to live with the consequence of my actions, my conscience and my guilt but I will tell you this – I have learned my lesson and I will not repeat it again. I will never abandon you, Mikky.’
It is the longest dialogue she has ever said and when she continues speaking her eyes are glassy with tears.
‘You will make a full recovery but you must live with yourself after you leave the security and safety of this hospital. If you return the painting, people will feel sympathy for you knowing that you did it to help the Museum and you have done the right thing. People love a hero–’
‘I don’t want to be anyone’s hero.’
‘Aren’t you sick of being alone? Fending everyone off with your coldness and hostility?’ her voice rises.
‘Do you think it’s that important to be loved?’ I retort.
‘Remember, I have been ostracized and I have also been embraced – publicly. Once the fuss dies down, after you give the painting back, you will have enough money to live a reasonable life. We can hire a publicist and then you can have your own painting exhibition anywhere in the world. You are an amazing artist with a serious talent.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘What do you want out of life, Mikky?’ She sounds exasperated but I see love, tenderness, and genuine concern reflected in her eyes as she searches for the right words. ‘You can have any life you please. You are young and beautiful, and filled with energy and youth. You’re at a crossroads in your life. You have a mother who wants to get to know you and form a proper loving friendship. You have Javier in London who has been a good friend to you for the past eight or ten years – he has his faults – I know, and he got carried away with the fame and recognition and the promises that Karl made him but we all make mistakes. We all need forgiveness.’
‘He betrayed me.’
‘He lost sight of what he wanted and he had no idea what you were after. Your paths diverged for a while but it doesn’t mean you can’t be friends. It doesn’t mean that you don’t love each other.’
I grunt and rub my stinging eyes.
‘Carmen and Yolanda want to see you again. They tell me how funny, witty and intelligent you are…’
‘I don’t need this,’ I reply, kicking my legs under the sheet but she refuses to move and persists in speaking.
‘And, you have met a kind and handsome man who wants to get to know you. What will you tell Eduardo? That you really are a thief? And you deserve the name that has been scored into your forehead? Or that you are honourable and can be trusted and would one day like a family of your own?’
‘The path to darkness is an easy one…’ I reply.
‘Maybe it is–’
‘It suits me.’
Her smile is wide and loving. ‘But Mikky, the path to light will fill you with warmth, security and love and you won’t be alone. Eduardo and I will be with you, as will Javier and Oscar, Carmen and Yolanda, and Dolores and Maria. Perhaps you may even have a family of your own – and a daughter you will love more than life itself – and you will give her advice as I am trying to do now with you. You have a full life ahead of you. Fill it with love and happiness. All you have to do is to reach out and take it. This–’ She taps the cylinder. ‘Is only money and that means nothing if you are all alone with no one to share it with.’
I swallow hard. My throat itches and I bite my lip and concentrate on Carmen’s address in my handwriting willing this moment to pass. It seems an age ago since I sent it, so much has happened. I sent Josephine away to Bruges and now she has been to Malaga and collected the painting. She has spent hours at my bedside and will even pay for cosmetic surgery.
I sigh. ‘Would you verify
my story?’
‘Of course.’
‘You would lie?’
‘If you were doing the right thing and I had to protect you.’
‘You really would do anything for me, wouldn’t you? You would risk your reputation to repair mine.’ I tap the plastic lid.
‘I’m your mother,’ she replies. ‘Before we met I imagined you wouldn’t speak to me – I will not let you go.’
‘But you expect me to give this back – after all my planning and hard work?’
‘Planning?’
‘Two years ago I did some restoration work in Bruges. I was there when Mrs Green bought the painting from the art dealer – the guy you met –Theo Brinkmann acted as a go–between for the IRA. He was coerced into selling it and Mrs Green agreed that when she died it would be returned to him and he or his son could legitimately claim it as the original masterpiece and receive a reward from the Museum.’
‘And you followed her?’
‘She was ninety and I guessed at her age she wouldn’t live for long.’
‘You went to London?’
‘When the flat beside hers came up for rent I knew it was too good an opportunity to pass up. It was an opportunity some people would call fate–’
‘But you didn’t – kill her?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Josephine. I’m a thief not a murderer. Can’t you read?’ I point at my forehead. ‘Besides I became really fond of the old lady. She was lovely. She was more like the Grandma I never had…’
Josephine reaches for my fingers but I move my hand away and continue speaking. ‘I painted the forgery at Christmas after we came back from Dresden and the night Mrs Green died, I went into her house and switched it. No one else had seen the painting – only Roy and I guessed he wouldn’t know the difference and if he did then it was only his word. But then Javier spoke to Mrs Green and then Karl Blakey got involved and Roy was convinced he had been duped.’
‘So, after you stole the painting why didn’t you just disappear?’
‘I was going to but then,’ I pause and decide to tell the truth. ‘You arrived in London.’
‘You wanted to see me?’
‘I wanted to support Javier.’
‘Oh.’ Her head drops.
‘You had a bond with him. You were important and he asked me to be kind to you.’
‘You kept the painting in your flat?’
‘I was worried that Javier might guess.’
‘And you…?’
‘I posted it to Mallorca. And then you came to Arta and then Karl appeared and I thought it would only be a matter of time before Roy showed up so I made the decision to wait and face him. I decided to brazen it out.’
‘That’s why you got rid of me…’
‘I knew he was angry.’
‘And the hurry to get to Malaga?’
‘If the press wrote about a stolen painting Carmen would suspect me and I didn’t want her to open it.’ I tap the tube with my finger then peel the tape away and flick open the lid. As I pull the painting from the cylinder I glance at Josephine and when I unfurl it, she gasps. ‘Oh my goodness.’
I’m holding a canvas measuring 69cm by 63cm – exactly the same size as the Vermeer but it’s a Cubist water colour painting. I am holding a picture that appears fragmented and abstract.
We both stare at it.
‘That’s not The Concert.’ Her eyes are wide in disbelief and her mouth is open.
‘No, it isn’t,’ I agree.
‘I – I – I haven’t substituted it, Mikky. I promise you. I did as you said and I didn’t even open it.’
‘You haven’t?’
‘No – I promise.’
I laugh. ‘Don’t worry, Josephine. I believe you. This is it – this is the Vermeer.’
‘This? It can’t be–’
‘I painted over it.’
‘But – you can’t do that. It’s a – it’s a masterpiece.’
‘I can restore it.’
‘You’ve ruined it.’
‘No one will ever know. I’m a professional.’
‘But you can’t keep it.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s stealing.’
‘It’s in my possession. It belongs to me.’
‘You’re not clever, Mikky. Someone will find out.’
‘Like who? This is our secret Josephine – no one else knows – just like the fact that you are my mother.’
‘And what if I don’t like your secret? What if I don’t agree, Mikky? Then what?’
‘There are lots of rich Eastern Europeans who will jump at buying it.’
‘It’s not yours to sell. It belongs to the Isabella Stewart Museum,’ she says.
‘It belongs to me.’
‘You’re not thief. You’re better than that.’
‘Come on, Josephine. Think of it as an adventure. Come with me and let’s have some fun,’ I smile.
‘Please, Mikky. I beg you – don’t...’
I place it on the bed and it lies between us, semi- curled up like an ordinary painting.
There’s a risk I could get caught. Maybe Inspector Torres will follow me. Roy hasn’t been found and they’re still investigating Karl’s death. I will have to deny everything and keep lying for the rest of my life. Who would I trust?
I sigh and lean back against the pillow suddenly feeling very weary. The thought of being a hero is beginning to seem a lot easier and a lot more enticing.
‘Give it back,’ she says. ‘Please.’
Through the open window palm trees rustle and sway beckoning me and I’m reminded of the outdoors: long sandy beaches, the sun on my skin, and the promise of a paella and cold beer. I want my freedom and in a moment of complete clarity, my mind is suddenly made up and a sense of calmness fills me.
‘It’s worth a fortune,’ I reply.
‘But you’re worth far more, Mikky. I don’t want to see you go to prison.’ She takes hold of my hand.
‘I have no intention of it.’
‘A daughter is worth more than any masterpiece,’ she whispers. ‘My daughter is priceless.’
‘Well, thank goodness for that, Josephine. At last, we finally agree on something.’
I lean forward and for the first time in my life I feel my mother’s arms around me and I am overwhelmed with tenderness and love; relief, joy, comfort and happiness flood through me. It’s a tsunami of emotion, something I’ve never felt before. This woman in my arms gave birth to me and although I’m not ready to tell her yet, it means more to me than anything. When we finally pull apart we are both laughing and my mother’s cheeks are as wet as my own.
THE END
Reading Group Guide
One of the central themes to this novel is honesty. Where does it come into play? Is there an over–arching message in Masterpiece about the consequences of telling the truth?
Could you relate to the characters? Did your feelings toward the characters change during the novel? Why?
As in real life not all character are wholly ‘good’ or wholly ‘bad.’ Do you think the main characters in this novel had a reasonable balance to evoke emotion? What feelings were they? Did you find the distinction between their right and wrong actions conflicting or satisfying?
Which character do you feel is the most betrayed?
The structure of the novel is based on Mikky’s point of view and written in the first person. Did you find her a truthful narrator? Did you find this structure made an impact on the twists of the novel and how the plot was revealed?
Transformation of or evolvement with a character can create emotional conflict for the reader. Did you identify with Josephine’s developing character from The Golden Icon and her quest to find her adopted child?
The important themes of Masterpiece are family and relationships. What does it highlight about how we behave with regard to family and the lengths we will go to protect them. What effect do the secrets have when revealed?
All book are
available on Amazon and Kindle
Culture Crime Series:
Golden Icon - The Prequel
Masterpiece
Book of Hours
Other Books By Janet Pywell:
Red Shoes and Other Short Stories
Ellie Bravo
For more information visit:
www.janetpywell.com
blog: janetpywellauthor.wordpress.com