her chest and made swallowing difficult. Lydia…
She lingered at the poster in the upper foyer – a blown-up version of the flyer that currently nestled in the bottom of her handbag. Lydia’s flawless complexion and liquid eyes were stunning. Kate breathed in sharply, realising how much she had missed. Although Francesca had emailed her the odd blurry snapshot over the years, this PR shot was of a different order altogether. The Lydia in her memory no longer existed: gone was the teenage skin and the wobbly application of heavy eye make-up. Now twenty-five, Lydia had found her style and become a woman.
Kate studied each one of Lydia’s pictures intensely and read the titles carefully. Titles like Come Undone and Life Interrupted. Lydia was clearly talented; she had honed her skills considerably since Kate had last seen any of her work. Kate approached each piece with a mixture of pleasure and intrigue, even if she didn’t fully understand them.
It was a strange and unique experience. Kate was certain that she would have known her children’s handwriting from the tiniest scrap, would be able to identify their voices from just one word spoken within a group, would know of their presence by nothing more than a cough. What she hadn’t considered was Lydia’s personality being so easily identifiable with every stroke of the brush. The bold colours and contemporary themes were as much elements of her character as her voice and humour. Kate could see that this work was the progression of all the sketches and paintings that had come before, going back to her childhood.
When Janeece and Natasha caught up with her, Kate was transfixed by a large canvas, about fifteen feet square. She studied every square inch with a wide grin. Her hands fluttered at her chest. She wanted to whoop with joy!
Natasha read the title. ‘My Background Noise – it’s an interesting title, what do you think it means?’
Kate turned to her friend, the art expert, and with eyes brimming was able to interpret the meaning of the piece with confidence.
‘It means me, Tash. I am her background noise. Not cool, but like jam or a favourite pillow!’
Kate ran her fingers over the daubs of paint that depicted a set of speakers with flowers, strawberries and dolly pegs coming from them in every shade of the rainbow. It was beautiful and it was a message that Kate read loud and clear. Happiness swelled in her chest.
‘Oh, Lydia, my clever, beautiful girl! I will be waiting for you.’
As Natasha and Kate pulled into the driveway of Prospect House, they were still discussing the minute aspects of Lydia’s work. Kate knew that she would analyse and reinterpret what she had seen, time and time again. She felt close to her little girl; her hand had touched the paint that her daughter’s hand had applied. It was wonderful. But the state of excitement was not to last long, once the front door had been opened.
‘Ah, Kate, I’m so glad you’re back. We’ve got a bit of a situation on our hands.’
‘What kind of situation, Tom? Is the house burning down and you have forgotten the number for the fire brigade? Or have we run out of biscuits and cake will have to suffice? I’m really hoping that it’s closer to the latter; I don’t want anything to spoil my lovely day!’
Tom shook his head and held open his palm, in the centre of which sat a plastic bag. Her time in jail and her work in the field of rehabilitation meant that she could instantly identify the irregularly shaped, off-white rocks as crack cocaine.
‘Oh please God no, not that! Is it Tanya’s?’
‘Well I think we can assume so, Kate, unless you have taken up the habit?’
‘Oh, don’t tempt me, Tom! Right, leave it with me. Where is she?’
‘In her room. I haven’t mentioned it to her.’
‘No, you did right. It would be today, wouldn’t it; the one day I am away.’
‘How was it, boss?’
‘Oh, Tom, it was magnificent!’
‘I’m glad. If that’s all, Kate, I think I’ll call it a night. Been quite a day. Stacey got off okay; phoned to say that she’d arrived at her mum’s and was doing fine. Said she’d be back in a few days.’
‘That’s good. Night, Tom, and thanks for today.’
Kate saw the lamplight shining from beneath Tanya’s bedroom door. She knocked and waited.
‘Yeah?’
‘Can I come in, Tanya?’
It was unusual for Kate to visit at this time of night, so Tanya instantly knew that something was up.
‘Sure.’
Tanya