‘Sir! Mr Lawrence, we can’t accept—’ Essie stepped forwards to protest.
‘Nonsense!’ He gave a slight wave as he coughed again. ‘Quite the clump of clay your boys found.’
Gertie accepted the button, held it up to the light and watched the rainbow hit a sliver of uncovered wall. ‘Thank you, Mr Lawrence,’ she said as if in a trance.
Tears filled Essie’s eyes, and she tried to swallow. She was too scared to speak, lest a torrent of sadness, gratitude and heartbreak spill from her. If she let it out, she might never be able to contain it.
‘I … we … can’t …’ Unable to finish the sentence, she shook her head.
‘The button is yours,’ the antiquarian said to Gertie. ‘I insist. My mother once told me that every lass should have a little something sewn into the hem of her skirts.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Gertie.
‘Goodbye, Mr Lawrence,’ Essie repeated and she ushered her sister towards the door.
She and Gertie stepped out onto the street, but instead of retracing their steps along West Hill, Essie directed Gertie to the nearest underground station. If Essie’s plan was going to work, they had to leave London that night.
THE GREAT FIRE
THE CHEAPE SIDE, LONDON, 1666
Outside, the fire that had blazed across London for days continued to burn, but in the cellar the air was damp and cool as Aurelia began to dig. She’d promised Papa she would look after her mother and brother, but for that she would need his stock.
A gust of wind slammed the cellar door, sealing her in silky darkness. And still she kept on digging.
She didn’t notice that, above her, the house had started to burn until it was too late. A flaming joist fell and pinned her to the floor. Her back cracked loudly as she landed. Red and blue flames danced a duet along the wooden beam and licked her skirts.
Aurelia watched the flames merge and twirl, reminding her of the life and fire in the treasures buried in the dirt below.
She’d wanted to make Papa proud—to keep her promise to look after Mama and Samuel.
Her stockings were ablaze and the thick air turned musky and bitter. She screamed as the fire reached her skirts but she was helpless, trapped beneath the joist. Soon her throat constricted and she couldn’t swallow. Her breathing grew ragged as her lungs filled with smoke.
The girl’s head lolled back and she closed her eyes. Searing heat smothered her body.
Aurelia counted the faces of those she loved.
Mama.
Samuel.
David.
George.
Jacob.
Papa …
She prayed for the Lord to take her to her father and brothers before the flames swallowed her face. For how would they recognise her otherwise?
Aurelia recalled her mother’s smile, little Samuel clasping her finger in his fat fist … Jacob’s first sweet kiss, tasting of plums. Her last image before the world turned dark and still was of the pretty black and white ring her father had made for her betrothal.
His masterpiece.
Chapter 28
KATE
BOSTON, PRESENT DAY
Kate plugged her laptop into the second big screen she kept on her desk. She was in a bit of a funk. She hadn’t finished the article for Jane. She was no closer to knowing who had buried the Cheapside jewels, and why.
This academic low-pressure system came so often after trawling through books and archives, checking dates and studying details of jewels. After she’d pushed herself but failed to come up with something new. There was a hell of a lot of luck involved in historical research. Nobody liked to admit it, but ‘right time, right place’ and all that certainly came into it. But the words of Madame Parsons spurred her on: If you look closely, the ring will reveal itself. The black and white will overlap … will penetrate one another, if you like? With champlevé, you have to let time take its course …
Marcus’s oversized images of the champlevé ring appeared on the screen and she clicked to enlarge them to get a closer look. It was evening and the velvet curtains were drawn and a heater blasted at her feet.
The diamond shimmered at various angles, the gold bezel was slightly uneven at each of the corners. Part of the enamel had been chipped, or worn away—definitely stained with what looked to be soil. She blew the pictures up further, and now she could see what Madame Parsons had been trying to explain. The white enamel looked almost translucent, and the black did bleed slightly into the white. What appeared so perfect to the naked eye was actually pretty blurry up close.
She smiled, thinking of Bella’s words at the Serpentine. Life is full of messy edges.
So it was.
An email came up on the screen from Marcus and she clicked on it immediately. He’d gone straight to Colombia after the New York shows to do a job in a mine there.
He’d sent images of men hauling trolleys of shale by hand, crouched over rocks, hands black as charcoal on a cut-away mountainside that tumbled away to a lush green valley with a river that flowed to the horizon. Men in waders and polo shirts stood knee-deep in mud, shovelling. The final image was of a hand holding up a chunk of rock, chunks of luminous emerald poking out at all angles. And all of sudden Kate got it. Among the grime and toil and darkness, that handful of translucent green made the heart beat a little faster. It really was magic. No wonder the native Colombians hid their emeralds for years from the Spanish conquistadors. Emeralds were indeed sacred.
Marcus had sent an email—clearly written after a few beers.
Check these out! Not far from our watch.
Just had dinner of rice, beans, shredded chicken and chorizo with Jesus, my fixer. Call me when you get this!
Kate dialled his number immediately.
‘Hello!’ he exclaimed. ‘I’ve made a slight change to my travel plans. You home in Boston now?’
‘Sure am. Back to cheese toasties and pasta.’ Kate sipped her chardonnay.
‘Thought I might come visit next week, if that’s okay. I’m the keynote speaker at the Boston Photographic Society’s annual lunch next week. The guy they booked can’t make it as he injured himself skiing, so they asked me. Good excuse to visit! I’ll be there Wednesday. I’ll be heading to Sydney a couple of days afterwards. I promised Jules and Liv I’d be there for the valedictory dinner. Can’t believe my baby is almost done with school.’
‘I imagine it feels … strange,’ said Kate.
‘Strange. Exciting. Proud … all the things,’ said Marcus. ‘I’ve made so many mistakes, but Liv’s—’ His voice cracked.
‘Liv’s amazing! She’s a credit to you … and to Julia,’ Kate said as her chest tightened.
‘Thanks.’ Marcus’s voice steadied. ‘So, is next week okay with you? To stay, I mean?’
Kate hesitated.
She was anxious about her growing feelings for Marcus. He was more than just a shiny distraction for her and Kate worried about being hurt. She wasn’t sure she had the strength for it.
‘Kate?’ His voice was softer now.
She took a deep breath. ‘Yes, please come. I’ll be here.’ She was giddy with the thought of seeing him—touching him again.
‘Fantastic!’
When she hung up, she realised she hadn’t thanked Marcus for sending the images of the ring. She zoomed in on the diamond ring yet again …