There was also a clay head. The whole place looked as though it had recently been savaged by a gang of hooligans.
‘There’s never any room to sit up here,’ said Mrs Boscowan.
She threw various things off a wooden stool and pushed it towards him.
‘There. Sit down here and speak to me.’ ‘It’s very kind of you to let me come in.’ ‘It is rather, but you looked so worried. You are worried, aren’t you, about something?’ ‘Yes I am.’ ‘I thought so. What are you worried about?’ ‘My wife,’ said Tommy, surprising himself by his answer.
‘Oh, worried about your wife? Well, there’s nothing unusual in that. Men are always worrying about their wives. What’s the matter – has she gone off with someone or playing up?’ ‘No. Nothing like that.’ ‘Dying? Cancer?’ ‘No,’ said Tommy. ‘It’s just that I don’t know where she is.’ ‘And you think I might? Well, you’d better tell me her name and something about her if you think I can £md her for you. I’m not sure, mind you,’ said Mrs Boscowan, ‘that I shall want to.
I’m warning you.’ ‘Thank God,’ said Tommy, ‘you’re more easy to talk to than I thought you were going to be.’ ‘What’s the picture got to do with it? It is a picture, isn’t it – must be, that shape.’ Tommy undid the wrappings.
‘It’s a picture signed by your husband,’ said Tommy. ‘I want you to tell me what you can about it.’ ‘I see. What exactly do you want to know?’ ‘When it was painted and where it is.’ Mrs Boscowan looked at him and for the first time there was a slight look of interest in her eyes.
‘Well, that’s not difficult,’ she said. ‘Yes, I can tell you all about it. It was painted about fifteen years ago – no, a good deal longer than that I should think. It’s one of his fairly early ones.
Twenty years ago, I should say.’ ‘You know where it is – the place I mean?’ ‘Oh yes, I can remember quite well. tNice picture. I always liked it. That’s the little hump-backed bridge and the house and the name of the place is Sutton Chancellor. About seven or’ eight miles from Market Basing. The house itself is about a couple of miles from Sutton Chancellor. Pretty place.
Secluded.’ She came up to the picture, bent down and peered at it closely.
‘That’s funny,’ she said. ‘Yes, that’s very odd. I wonder now.’ Tommy did not pay much attention.
‘what’s the name of the house?’ he asked.
‘I can’t really remember. It got renamed, you know. Several times. I don’t know what there was about k. A couple of rather tragic things happened there, I r-lxink, then the next people who came along renamed it. Called the Canal House once, or Canal Side. Once it was called Bridge House then Meadowside – or Riverside was another name.’ ‘who lived there – or who lives there now? Do you know?’ ‘Nobody I know. Man and a girl lived there when first I saw it. Used to come down for weekends. Not married, I think. The girl was a dancer. May have been an actress – no, I think she was a dancer. Ballet dancer. Rather beautiful but dumb.
Simple, almost wanting. William was quite soft about her, I remember.’
‘Did he paint her?’
‘No. He didn’t often paint people. He used to say sometimes .he wanted to do a sketch of them, but he never did much about it. He was always silly over girls.’
‘They were the people who were there when your husband was painting the house?’
‘Yes, I think so. Part of the time anyway. They only came down weekends. Then there was some kind ora bust up. They had a row, I think, or he went away and left her or she went away and left him. I wasn’t down there myself. I was working in Coventry then doing a group. After that I think there was just a governess in the house and the child. I don’t know who the child was or where she came from but I suppose the governess was looking after her. Then I think something happened to the child. Either the governess took her away somewhere or perhaps she died. What do you want to know about the people who lived in the house twenty years ago?