Saving Kitty - completed

Chapter 18

At the bottom of the ladder, Phoebe took the painting from James and like a child dashed downstairs to show her aunt. It all worked out perfectly, as Deborah had arrived and was already sitting in the kitchen.

"Look what we found... it's Kitty, well, not Kitty but a painting of her, and I'm sure it's by the same person who did the one of the cottages in the hall, what do you think? Isn't she beautiful?" Phoebe placed the painting on the kitchen table and held it there for all to see.

"That's Kitty?" Deborah asked who stood and looked at the painting very closely, she pushed her small, rimmed glasses back onto the bridge of her nose, before moving closer to the picture and pulling them down and squinting at the painter's initials in the corner, "Well, I'll be..."

"What?..." Phoebe held her breath, there was utter silence in the kitchen which was almost unheard of.

"I do believe that's a painting by Thomas Wright!"

"Ok, and he is... I mean he was ... who?" Phoebe had never heard the name.

"He was a local artist, 18th century, not well known by all accounts but there is a particular set of followers of his work who would pay a fortune for his paintings. I do believe one of his paintings sold for £3 million, only a couple of years ago."

"You're kidding? Are you sure?" Aunt Martha and James both exclaimed.

"I'm no expert but I know someone who is. There isn't much known about him, he seemed to have come from obscurity. At the time I do believe his work was thought to have been nothing more than average, but like so many others, once he died, his artwork became highly desired."

"Are you sure? And why would he paint a picture of Kitty?" Phoebe asked, more curious and confused than ever. Could these paintings be worth so much money?

"As I say, I'm not an art expert let me call my friend, Alan, he owns an art gallery in Padstow, if anyone would know he would... do you mind if I call now, but as soon as I tell him, he'll want to come over and see it straight away!"

"Of course, please ring him now," aunt Martha, filled the kettle ready and waiting for the next round of brews, "I think this calls for a cup of tea, it could be a long evening ahead. How exciting!" Phoebe clutched at the letter in her pocket she wanted to tell them what she had found, but she also wanted to keep it her little secret, just for now, just until she had read it.

There was an excited buzz in the kitchen, the mere fact that they could be sitting on a fortune was just unbelievable. Phoebe excused herself from the kitchen, the letter was burning a hole in her pocket not to mention her curiosity. They were all too busy talking about the painting to notice that she had left.

Once in her room, Phoebe slit open the seal and opened the envelope to reveal it was a letter. Just as she had suspected it was in Tommy's handwriting, but it did seem a little different, Phoebe couldn't put her finger on it but the writing seemed to be from an older hand. Phoebe sat on the edge of her bed, she scanned over it first before reading it word for word. The letter was perfectly preserved.

My Dearest Kitty,

I think this is the hardest letter I have ever had to write, and knowing that you are dead destroys my very soul. I know that you will never read this but I needed to write it ... if only to salve my conscience and in some way by writing this I feel that I am talking to you.

I never let you down that night, but something did happen... you know we had no money and an opportunity arose... I thought I was doing the right thing. Please forgive me, I did it for us. As the storm grew, word spread through the village that there was a Spanish ship heading for the harbour. I thought I could make us some money, the ship was laden with gold, and it seemed a simple plan, lure it onto the rocks, then relieve it of its cargo ... my father convinced me that nothing could go wrong.