All the Little Lies. Chris Curran

information about it?’

      ‘Nothing, I’m afraid.’

      Eve could sense Alex was about to speak, but she came in with: ‘The main reason I’ve come to see you is that I’m hoping the owner of the newly discovered pictures might be able to help me. It might even be someone who knew Stella.’ Eve could hear her own voice becoming breathless, but she forced herself on. ‘So I’d like you to give my details to their solicitors and ask them to contact me.’

      Miriam looked down at papers on her desk tapping them with a pen.

      Alex spoke quickly. ‘You can assure them we have no intention of making any claims on the estate. As I said we just want to find out as much about Stella as we can. Eve obviously never met her mother. And her adoptive parents know very little about her.’

      When Miriam spoke her tone was careful – guarded – was the word that sprang into Eve’s mind.

      ‘I see, yes. Well I’m afraid I can’t guarantee anything, but if you email me your details, and some evidence of your identity, I’ll see what the solicitors say. And obviously, if you discover anything you’d be willing to share with us we’d be very glad to hear it.’

       CHAPTER SIX

      Eve

      After they left the curator, Alex said, ‘I think we should go for some lunch. You can come back afterwards if you want.’ Neither of them spoke as they walked across the Millennium Bridge and away from the river into the busy Newcastle streets. Alex stopped outside a little Italian restaurant and looked at Eve. She nodded. Couldn’t face walking any further.

      When they were seated at a window table and had ordered drinks – a Peroni for Alex and sparkling water for Eve – he put down the menu he’d been holding and took her hand.

      ‘I’m sorry. I know you hoped to find out something more concrete today.’

      She said, ‘Do you know the art school she went to here? Before London?’

      ‘I’ve heard of it, of course.’

      ‘You don’t know anyone who was there in the Eighties when you lived here?’

      ‘No, sorry.’ It was curt, but not surprising. He always clammed up when anything reminded him of that time in his life. If he’d kept any friends from then she had never met them.

      She shrugged, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘I suppose it was silly to expect anything more. It’s just …’ She shook her head. What she had imagined they’d find out she didn’t know, but she had never felt so tired. ‘I’m sorry for making you drive all this way for so little.’

      ‘Let’s try to make the most of the day anyway. I thought I’d pop into the Lit and Phil Library, and maybe check out the theatre to see if there’s anything on tonight. What do you think?’

      ‘Good idea, but I’ll skip the library. I want to have another look in the Baltic.’

      He didn’t argue, but plunged his fork into his spaghetti and tutted as a dollop of sauce splashed on his hand.

      It was raining again and Eve pulled on her beanie. She kept it on in the gallery. It felt like protection. This time she walked very slowly around the exhibition, trying to keep her emotions in check. It was difficult when she came to a painting of Stella’s mother, Karen – her own grandmother. The caption said she died when Stella was nine. She was on a swing attached to the branch of a huge tree with a twisted trunk. Her hair swirling around her as she seemed to sway back and forth.

      It must have been so hard growing up without a mother, and it seemed that Stella’s grandmother developed dementia when she was still only a teenager.

      Forcing herself to move on she came to a picture of the little town in Italy where Stella had spent her last weeks. The caption called it Sestri Levante, and Eve noted the name down. That was something she hadn’t known before. The tiny beach was surrounded by tall houses and restaurants. Stella had changed the bay into a magical sea with mermaids perched on rocks.

      Next to it was Seascape with Gulls and she was almost sure it was a view from the cliffs above Hastings, although the gulls were beautiful diaphanous creatures nothing like the screeching scavengers she knew. There were two more portraits of Maggie. Alone this time. In one she wore a red dress, her hair threaded with white flowers. Another was the strange Mermaid picture in which she now recognized the face as Maggie’s.

      Eve had seen love in every brushstroke of the Nana portrait and sadness in Madonna? The Maggie paintings were different. Some strong emotion certainly seemed to emanate from them, but Eve couldn’t tell if that emotion was love or something quite different.

      Back at the hotel she phoned her dad and as soon as she heard his, ‘Hello sweetheart,’ she felt a rush of warmth. ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being so horrible to you and Mum. I know you only did what you thought was right.’

      ‘But we should have trusted you with the truth. I see that now.’

      ‘Whatever I find out won’t make any difference to us.’ As she said it she tried to ignore the tiny voice asking if she was sure about that. ‘But, Dad, please help me now.’ She read out the names of the other artists in the show. ‘Could any of these have been Stella’s boyfriend: my father?’

      ‘Now that’s a tricky one. Since you started asking about her I’ve racked my brains and honestly I can’t remember her with anyone. I assumed it was another art student. So the young men from the exhibition certainly fit the bill. I’ve followed their careers – those that went on to have some success – but I’ve never seen any connection to Stella.’

      ‘Could you try to put me in touch with any of them?’

      A pause. ‘We’d have to go about it delicately.’

      ‘I know. And I also thought I’d try to speak to Ben Houghton. He’s likely to remember something about her. Might even know more about how she died. And I can’t stop thinking that I was born about nine months after she met him.’

      There was no pause this time. Instead David rushed on. ‘Oh, no, Eve. You mustn’t bother Ben. You know how things are with him.’

      She knew Ben had been in a wheelchair for years, paralyzed from the waist down. His accident was one of the reasons Houghton’s had closed. Her dad was still talking.

      ‘Granted he was a bit of a lad in his day, but he’s paid the price and so have Pamela and Simon.’

      ‘But could he be my biological father?’

      ‘Since this started I’ve been thinking about possible candidates and naturally Ben came to mind, but I’ve remembered he was actually having one of his flings with the other girl. Stella’s friend, Maggie.’

      ‘And he couldn’t have been cheating on Maggie with Stella?’

      ‘If he did I’m sure he won’t admit it at this stage. And he knows about you, my darling, so if he wanted to claim parentage don’t you think he would have done so already?’

      He must have heard her gasp because he said quickly, ‘I’m sorry, that was clumsy. I’m just sure he’s not the one and I don’t want you upsetting yourself as well as Ben and his family.’

      She took a deep breath. ‘OK, I understand.’

      Lying on the hotel bed after they’d said goodbye she held the phone to her chest and watched the early evening sun breaking through the clouds. Her father’s words had only made her more convinced that she had to see Ben. Whatever his relationship with Stella it was clear he knew her friend, Maggie, intimately. So it was possible he could put Eve in touch with her, which could be crucial