“If you don’t stop humming, I will be obliged to beat you to death with the commemorative bust of Richard III.” Fran nodded to the replica bust perched on a potter’s stool tucked up in a far corner of their office. She scraped her chair in closer to her desk.
“I’m sorry. It’s just I woke up happy. But I also feel foolish to be happy.” Molly shrugged.
“Don’t worry—happiness doesn’t last.”
“Oh, that’s…good to know.” Molly perched on the edge of Fran’s desk and began playing with her stapler.
Fran grabbed it from her. “Spit it out. Whatever you’re fidgeting to say. Or none of us will get any work done.”
“It’s sort of personal.”
“You’ve fallen for Georgina Wright and you don’t know what to do about it.”
“Oh my God. Is it that obvious?”
“Let’s put it this way—I don’t think I’ve had a conversation with you in the last month where you haven’t mentioned her. And choosing to ignore my advice, you have persisted in going behind Evelyn’s back to help Georgina with the portrait. So despite your denials, you haven’t exactly been exuding disinterest.”
“You think I’m a fool.”
“Well, you know I worry for your heart. But you’re not a fool. Georgina Wright’s smart, wealthy, influential, and striking to look at. Quite frankly if you hadn’t fallen for her, then I think you should have questioned your lesbian credentials.”
“She was so lovely on Saturday. Do you remember, she asked to see the sketches for the portrait?” Fran gave a reluctant nod. “It was so amazing to see how enthralled she was. It felt a real privilege to be there. There was even a moment when we parted where I thought she might have suggested lunch or something. But she didn’t, because of course she wouldn’t, would she. It was just foolish wishful thinking on my part.”
“Mixing business with pleasure is notoriously complicated, and there’s a reason it’s not recommended.”
“It tends not to end well?”
“I’m afraid so. And as I’ve said before, you’ll tie yourself in knots trying to second-guess Georgina.”
“I suppose.”
“So moving on, is that it, then, for your research on the painting?”
“I guess so. I’d hoped to learn more about Edith. I even thought I might somehow come across her in the parish registers. Once again, wishful thinking. I did confirm to Georgina that the conservation work on the portrait had been completed and that was probably it for the research. She didn’t mention picking the portrait up. She did, however, mention hoping to work with me on the Wright room. But then that’s work, isn’t it? So as you can see, I’ve no reason to be happy.”
“Well I was going to give you this. But as there’s nothing specifically on Edith it’s probably not going to offer much cheer, and as you’ve moved on, it may be a bit late in any case.” Fran lifted a slim wallet of papers from underneath a stack under her desk. “I was in the process of digging out some examples of the temporary exhibitions we’ve displayed over the years to encourage Evelyn to see women’s history month as an opportunity to highlight local women, and I came across these. They’re my notes and research from that Radicals exhibition I told you about. As I said before, there’s not much. I’ve selected out the items related to Josephine Wright.”
“That’s awesome—thanks so much, Fran.”
Fran handed the wallet to Molly, briefly holding it with her. “This is just FYI, because of course your insubordination—sorry, work on the portrait—is concluded.”
Molly dropped her eyes from Fran’s to the floor and crossed her fingers behind her back. “Absolutely.”
Fran let go of the wallet. “Good.”
Molly rested it on her desk and began to leaf through its contents. On the top there was a typed bibliography of Josephine’s collected works. “Wow, this list is really detailed and gives a fab overview of Josephine’s work.”
“It was drawn up some years ago now by the volunteer who helped me.” Fran frowned at the pages laid out in front of Molly. “But I can’t imagine there have been additions to her archive.”
“It’s totally amazing, isn’t it, to see how tirelessly Josephine wrote in support of those causes close to her heart.” Molly looked across at Fran who gave a slow nod.
“Yes,” Fran said wistfully. “She was quite a woman.”
Despite how enthralling it was to glimpse into Josephine’s world through her writings, Molly couldn’t suppress the sensation of disappointment at the absence of anything related to Edith. If Josephine and Edith had corresponded, the letters were not listed.
Molly gave a heavy sigh. What was she expecting to find, anyway? A picture of Edith and Josephine arm in arm? A love note?
She slowly gathered the pages together and rested the bibliography back on top. Hold on. She ran her fingers down the list. “There’s a gap of about two years where Josephine writes nothing. No letters, no treatises. Not even correspondence with the various societies she supported. Here, can you see?” Molly held up the list. “Is that what this question mark by the side was for?”
Fran leaned forward and squinted. “Possibly.”
She looked at Fran. “Why?”
Fran shrugged. “Concentrating on her new responsibilities as a wife and mother perhaps? It seems most likely. In fact that’s probably why I didn’t question it further. Often the most obvious answer is the answer.”
“It doesn’t seem in keeping though with her nature, to just give up on what she cared about. Does it?”
“I’m sorry, if I could give you the answers, I would.”
“It’s okay. I understand.” Molly stared at the papers in front of her. So what happened in August 1834, Josephine, that made you stop writing? Was it marrying and becoming a mum? Was that it? Or had all those years campaigning exhausted you? A soft knocking at their door drew Molly’s attention from the unknown to the certainty of a visitor.
Marianne stood in the doorway smiling. “Hi, both. Molly, if you have a moment, Evelyn and the chairman would like a word.”
“They would?”
“Yes. Now if possible.”
“I’ll be right there.” Molly grabbed her notebook and pen and rushed, half tripping over the doorstop’s manhood, as she hurried in the direction of Evelyn’s office.
Evelyn’s door was ajar. She could hear voices. Molly tentatively knocked.
“Come in,” Evelyn said without pausing her conversation with the chairman. “I couldn’t agree more, invitations must go out as soon as possible. Molly, please take a seat. Mark and I are just discussing progress with the Wright room.”
“Yes, of course, the space is looking wonderful,” Molly said breathlessly, slipping off her glasses which had misted from her run down the corridor.
“Yes, it’s a credit to you, Evelyn.” The chairman’s neck and cheeks glowed red, Molly supposed with the sting of his excessive aftershave.
“Molly, Evelyn and I are concerned to understand Georgina’s expectations for the space.” As he spoke, the chairman was looking down at his half-empty cup of coffee. “I’m not sure the trustees had in mind a community dimension as such. It came as an unexpected…reframing of the room’s purpose. I understand from Evelyn that you have now spent some time in Georgina Wright’s company. We need to know—did she give you any sense of her plans going forward in respect to her relationship with the museum?”
Molly’s chest tightened. “Well, to be honest, she hasn’t explicitly suggested to me any particular expectation for the room or, indeed, plans for the future as such.” Molly risked a quick glance at Evelyn who seemed concentrated on note making. “But our recent project together—”
“Yes”—the Chairman nodded—“the portrait of Josephine Brancaster. Evelyn has told me of Georgina’s particular interest in that regard.”
“Yes,” Molly said, her voice lifting in harmony with the note of his interest. “It’s a fascinating history—”
“Molly”—Evelyn lifted her hand—“we need to know if you have been able to progress matters with Georgina with regard to the handover of the outstanding items in George’s house. Time is ticking.”
“Yes. Georgina has agreed to get to grips with the handover as soon as she can.”
“As soon as she can?”
“I understand that this next couple of weeks are difficult for her but after that—”
Evelyn released an exasperated sigh. “You must hold her to that. It is already nearing the end of September. We’ve pencilled in Friday 8th December for the opening. Please check this date with Georgina. Invitations must go out at the beginning of next month. Are we agreed?”
“Yes,” Molly said with the most affirmative tone she could muster.
“And Molly.” The chairman set aside his cup and leaned in a little. “See if you can’t pin Georgina down on future matters.”
“Yes, I’ll do my best but…” The chairman and Evelyn were both looking at her. And not in a good way. “I’ll do my best.”
“Excellent.” Evelyn returned her attention to her notes. “Thank you, Molly. That’s all for now.”
Molly walked slowly back to her office. Pin down Georgina on future matters? She could barely pin down her own heart from fluttering in her chest at the merest mention of Georgina Wright’s name.