Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death (The Grantchester Mysteries)

to endanger that. I know that one day he will preside over my wedding and he will be a godfather to my children.’
    ‘One day . . .’
    ‘Yes, Inspector, one day. But not soon. I am not ready.’
    ‘And after that day,’ Keating pressed, ‘you wouldn’t mind if Sidney married someone else?’
    ‘Ah that . . . yes . . . that is different,’ Amanda considered, before turning over to sleep. ‘I think I might mind that very much indeed.’
     
    It was three weeks before Amanda felt that she was well enough to revisit Locket Hall. She was weak after her ordeal, and found it difficult to adjust to everyday life, but she told Sidney that she wanted to return both to her work and to her friends as soon as she could. She would not be defeated by events. ‘If I have to change my life then that man has won. I will not live in fear.’
    Lord Teversham arranged the luncheon party he had promised and made sure that Sidney was in attendance. He was thrilled to see that Amanda had felt able to come back so soon and kissed her on her arrival.
    ‘The vision of loveliness has returned,’ he declared, with a triumphant and generous gesture that suggested his guest was appearing on the London stage. ‘Aphrodite is in our midst once more.’
    ‘You flatter me, Lord Teversham.’
    ‘I tell only the truth. And you must call me Dominic.’
    Cicely Teversham hugged her tightly, and Ben Blackwood kissed her for the first time. ‘Welcome back.’
    ‘Champagne! I think . . .’ Lord Teversham called to his butler. ‘We can’t be having anything as prosaic as sherry on a day like this.’ He shook Sidney by the hand. ‘I imagine you must be sick of the sight of sherry, eh?’
    Sidney smiled. At last people were beginning to get the message. ‘It does have its limitations.’
    ‘Then why don’t you ever say?’
    ‘I don’t want to appear rude.’
    Amanda touched him on the shoulder. ‘Oh, Sidney, don’t be such a saint. Let’s get on with the champagne.’
    Mackay poured out the glasses while Lord Teversham made a little announcement. ‘Miss Kendall, before we go into luncheon we have a surprise for you.’
    ‘I’m not sure I like surprises any more.’
    ‘I think this one will amuse you. Come into the Long Gallery. You too, Canon Chambers. Bring your glasses. Ben will explain.’
    They walked out into the Long Gallery and stopped in front of the painting of Anne Boleyn. It looked darker than Amanda had remembered from before. Perhaps it was because the weather had turned for the worse. It was a dull and sombre day and the picture was illuminated only from the windows.
    Amanda took a step closer.
    ‘What do you think?’ Lord Teversham asked.
    Amanda paused. ‘Isn’t this still the forgery?’
    ‘It is. I knew that you would be able to tell. You are clever.’
    ‘Then where is the original?’
    Lord Teversham opened the door beside him that led into a small anteroom. ‘Step this way.’ He pointed to a large packing case ‘It is here.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    Lord Teversham laid a gentle hand on Amanda’s shoulder. ‘I have been on the telephone to the Director of the National Gallery. He knows what you have done. He reminded me that the painting was priceless. Then he started to tell me about the tax advantages of gifting the painting to the nation. He could take care of it and have it on permanent loan while I am alive, and he could take care of it in such a way that the picture would never be endangered again. I listened to him very carefully . . .’ Lord Teversham smiled.
    ‘And then?’ Amanda asked.
    ‘I thought of you and all that you had gone through. And I thought of what I do. Nothing much happens in Locket Hall, you know? I have my lovely sister, and I have Ben. I shoot, and I have parties, but what have I actually done with my life? Nothing. What will I be remembered for? Nothing. This is one small thing I can do. I am giving the painting to you, Miss Kendall, or rather I am donating it to your employer.’
    ‘Oh . . .’ said Amanda. She inadvertently took Sidney’s hand and he squeezed it. Then she began to cry. ‘That’s so kind.’
    ‘It is nothing, my dear.’
    ‘It is everything. I’m sorry. I cry so often these days. I can’t help it.’
    ‘There’s nothing wrong with crying.’
    She let go of Sidney’s hand.
    He remembered her lying on the hospital bed, and then, her bruised and broken body on the lavatory floor. He had never felt so protective of anyone