Cora wrapped her arms around herself, preserving the warmth she had been imparted.
“Nat was supposed to come but cancelled at the last minute. Charlie was still at work and Johnny had just gone out for a takeaway …”
The two men caught up with them and nodded at what Beth had just said, each of them giving Cora a heartfelt hug.
“Any damage to your flat?”
“Not much, just the smell and a bit of soot on the landing. Nothing compared with yours, my darling.” Johnny reached out to run a hand to rub Cora’s back.
“How is Ollie taking it?”
Cora’s face turned pale and she almost dropped to the ground.
“Perhaps we should get on with what we came to do. Sorry to interrupt.” Nancy moved closer to Cora. The others took the hint, apologised for interrupting and disappeared through the entrance of their side of the building.
“If you need anything, shout,” Beth threw over her shoulder before disappearing through the glass doors.
Nancy waved an appreciative hand. “The protection officer should be here any moment. Let’s make a move, if this is what you still want to do.”
“I don’t want to meet any more of the neighbours … not yet.”
Cora led the way, ducking underneath the yellow and black hazard tape that was still stretched across the left hand side of the building. Nancy half turned around. Where was the security officer Pole had promised?
She did not want to become a nuisance by calling him again. The cab driver was still there. She had asked him to wait and let the meter run. Cora had already disappeared into the property.
Nancy was glad she had decided to wear black that morning. The walls which were once white and spotless were now covered in a dark watery coating. The intense smell assailed her throat. The concrete structure had withstood the flames, but the windows had been shattered by the heat and a cold wind blew through them into the building.
The door of the loft had been left open so that the firefighters could gain access. Cora stood in the entrance. She was standing in front of the debris of her once happy life. Her stillness was absolute, a statue in a disaster zone. It could have been one of her own artistic creations and performances.
With every step Nancy took, she crushed glass or china underfoot. The smell of melted paint, plastic and burnt fabric became even stronger than in the corridor when she finally reached Cora.
“I don’t know what to do first.” Her friend’s lips were hardly moving. “I want to yell. I want to cry … I want to catch the bastards who did this.”
Cora picked up a blackened piece of pottery that had rolled to the door and stared at it for a moment. She seemed unable to work out what it once had been.
Nancy moved her head around slowly, trying to recall what the loft looked like before the tragedy.
The Gallery has just closed its doors. Philippe is handing Nancy her last glass of champagne. They both have decided to have dinner with the young artist to celebrate her first solo show.
“I’m working on a new project.” Cora Wong’s almond eyes are sparkling from the delicious beverage and from joy. The opening has been a complete success.
“Already?” Nancy too feels a little tipsy, just enough to be in a mellow mood.
“Ideas are buzzing in my head.” Cora giggles … imitating the humming of bees. “This one is going to be a large-scale installation, and support a performance. I’ve had aluminium tubes cut to size already as props.”
“And they are all stored in our flat.” Ollie appears at his girlfriend’s elbow. He is beaming too. “I’m so pleased to see her hard work pay off.”
“Would you like to see them?”
Philippe pours the remains of the bottle into a glass that may or may not be clean but he doesn’t care. He has sold most of Cora’s pieces on the opening night … this bodes well for the young woman.
“Nancy may want to get back home … it is rather late.”
“Nonsense … I may no longer join revellers at 2am, in some remote derelict part of Hackney, but I would love to see more of Cora’s work.”
Philippe nods. Whatever he can do for his friend and one of his best clients. It’s only 10pm after all.
Cora and Ollie jump on their bikes. The young generation is climate change conscious.
Philippe and Nancy opt for a cab, less climate friendly but the only option at this time of night.
“I’m not surprised you like her work.”
“I love the mix of craft, combining process and provocation … with that underlying sense of longing and nostalgia.” Nancy settles in the back of the cab, her back resting against the window as she speaks to Philippe.
Philippe approves. “You share a similar quest I believe.” He hesitates, the way someone realizes they may have spoken out of turn.
Nancy frowns in a teasing fashion. “Come on, Philippe. No holding back amongst friends.”
“Let’s talk about that another day.” Philippe beams his best smile at Nancy. He is a little tired and the days leading up to the show’s launch have been hard work.
“A few words … then we’ll talk about this another time, when you have recovered from the opening.”
“Cora’s parents disappeared a few years ago, on the trip to mainland China. Their car was recovered, empty … they were never found.”
Nancy’s stomach tightens. The champagne’s uplift disappears in an instant and the wound of the past tears at her once again.
“Apologies … I should have kept my mouth shut.”
Nancy forces herself to be civil. She can’t resent Philippe, who has been helping her with tracing her artist father. He has had some success without regard either for money or his own safety.
“What happened?”
Philippe is about to launch into an explanation he is reluctant to provide, but they arrive at their destination.
“They’re here.” He almost jumps out of the car before it has stopped. Cora and
