Page 73 of The Dead Come to Stay
“That part I knew, actually. Chen told me—I saw some of her paintings in York.”
Gwilym deflated slightly. “So you know he was a famous painter from the Slade School of Art in London, too?”
“I do. But carry on!” she encouraged.
Gwilym slurped up a bit more vindaloo, then pulled out a reproduction daguerreotype showing a beautiful young woman in soft silver light.
“Augustus lived in Paris with Gwen and some other artists, and he meets this lovely lady: Ida Nettleship. They got married and had a kid, so Augustus suddenly needed a real job. He gets one working as an art teacher in Liverpool.”
More photos escaped Gwilym’s bag. Most were copies of Augustus’s early art; red chalk drawings, Moses and the brazen serpent. Jo had seen several of the originals in York.
“His career doesn’treallytake off, though, until he meets the Signorina Estella Dolores Cerutti in 1900 and starts paintingher. Estella was an Italian pianist who lived downstairs from Augustus’s flat—and here she is!” Gwilym took out a color print-off, and Jo caught her breath. Three-quarter length and in full left-side profile was a dark eyed beauty. She was dressed in cream satin with delicate folds, her hands clasped together at the waist. She did not looklikeEvelyn, but the portraits lived in the same orbit.
“Gorgeous isn’t it?” Gwilym asked. “The way the light falls just so, the softness of her hair. Apparently, Ida was jealous and made herself a whole new set of clothes to compete.”
Jo could kind of see her point. Estella was majestic.
“Anyway, the portrait helped make his name. At least in artistic circles. William Ardemore would surely have heard of him,” Gwilym said, taking a break to finish his platter.
Jo pushed away the remains of her curry and drew little circles on the tablecloth.
“William and Gwen marry in 1906. They have their portraits done that year—or the next. But Augustus John isn’t the artist for those.” The records kept by her solicitor, Rupert Selkirk, listed a relatively well known and accomplished regional artist, a man in high fashion at the time. “Evelyn comes to them sometime in 1906 or 1907, and William has her sit for someone just making his mark? Is it just because he enjoyed the one of signorina?”
“Maybe. You can see how similar to Evelyn’s it is.”
“Okay, but then why would Augustus not take credit for it or sign the painting? He’s trying to make it in the world, and this is the guy who argued a painter has more rights than the sitter or the owner.”
“Ah! I saved the best bit,” Gwilym said. He pushed his dish away, cracked his knuckles and prepared to talk with his hands. “In 1903, Mr. John meets an artist model named Dorelia McNeill. Unsurprisingly, she becomes his lover. But it gets better; she was originally his sister Gwen’s model—and alsoherlover. She even introduced them.”
“The sister and brother shared the same lover?” Jo asked. Somewhat loudly, having temporarily forgotten they were in a public restaurant.
“So Augustus and Ida and Dorelia all set up house together, and he fathers kids by both of them.”
Jo put her hands out as if to stop the train wreck that surely must have been.
“So he is living with both women, the same way William is living with Gwen and Evelyn?”
“Kinda yeah?” Gwilym said. “And it wasn’t a secret or anything. So William Ardemore probably knew about the arrangement.”
“Meaning?” Jo asked.
“Common ground? I dunno. Maybe Ardemore wanted the same thing. You know, not leaving Gwen—”
“And her money,” Jo added.
“—and instead figured they could have their own little family unit. With Evelyn being the, um, bearer of heirs.” Gwilym cleared his throat over this last bit, but it didn’t keep Jo from hearingchattel.
“I really hope he wasn’t keeping her around as his baby-maker,” she said, grimacing in distaste. “And I’m still not sure how this explains why Augustus John didn’t make it plain that washismasterwork.”
“True. Though the guy wasalsobroke at the time of painting. He lived in a traveling caravan with an expanding tribe of children, and two women. Maybe more women. Did you happen to look up his bio online? Under children, it just saysvarious.” Gwilym scooped up the various photos and started tucking them back into his envelop. “Just saying, William and Gwen were rich, and a little money goes along way for Bohemian painters who keep fathering everybody’s kids.”
Jo puffed air, sending a loose strand of hair dancing.
“By 1908, Evelyn is dead, the painting presumably ruined, so maybe he just never got the chance to promote it. Plus,Gwen and William disappeared from society shortly after Evelyn’s death, so maybe an Ardemore portrait was no longer high profile to help his career. Who knows.” Jo hunted the menu forras malai, little white discs swimming in cardamom milk. They looked like spider egg sacs. She liked them anyway. “Chen said my uncle blamed Gwen Ardemore.”
“For damaging the painting?”
“Someone threw acid on the eyes,” Jo said.
