Chapter 22: The End

As they all turned to leave the dining room Myrtle came up to Kathleen and quietly told her that the paintings and the letters were put on hold by Australian Customs and will be sent to her here, as soon as Cynthia can arrange a courier.

Kathleen looked at her in surprise and in delight. “That was quick.” She told her. Myrtle pulled a business card from her purse, stating that she worked for the Australian Customs Services as their Director of Imports and Exports, she smiled at Kathy and told her “It’s just a fancy title for the ‘boss’.” She let the business card go as her finger slid along Kathleen’s up-turned wrist, she lent in and told her “I’ll be a fully paid up member of the club, by the way.”

She took it all in and shook her head. Cynthia, she thought, you do have interesting friends. Kathleen took the business card and put it in her side pocket in the navy blue slacks she was wearing as Michelle sidled up to her and tugged on her arm, “Mistress, she is interesting don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do think that mon doux amour.” [my sweet love] Kathleen looked down into Michelle’s eyes with a warmth that would have melted the biggest of icebergs. “What has Cynthia been hiding all these years I wonder?” Kathleen asked quietly. Michelle shrugged her shoulders, “Why does it matter, isn’t it more important what is happening now, today, not yesterday? Yesterday is gone, forgiven, today is now all warm and nice and new, then tomorrow,” She said pointing over to Mia and Emily, “Ahhhh tomorrow, wedding bells and who knows.”

“Where do you get all this wisdom from you little wise old woman you?” Kathleen asked. Michelle looked up, “From you my Mistress, from you.” Then brought her hand up to her lips and kissed her Mistress’s hand.

The group were slowly walking down the grand staircase to the ground floor, where the cleaning crew were completing the final vacuuming of carpet in the main reading room of the library, as well the bookshelves were now full.

The books on those walls were of the classics; from the poetry of Sappho to Patricia Highsmith’s The Price of Salt. The Encyclopedia of Sex and The History of Lesbianism, among other works involving the arts and writing, plus the works of Virginia Woolf and the general history of women in the world. Around the room, there were works of art depicting women in various poses all engaged in some form of Sappho encounters. Also seen were Sculptures and wood carvings from well-known female artists. A section of the room is dedicated to past sporting heroes who have led the way forward at much personal cost.

To look at the room you could have very easily mistaken it for an 18th-century Edwardian stately home in England and you would not have been far wrong. The front windows looked out onto Divitt Street but were high enough off of the ground so that any passer-by could not see into the building, but Emily had carefully selected curtains that obscured any nosey person but still let light and the sunshine in. The room contained a small bar room complete with two-person tables, comfortable armchairs and access to a private rear entrance, away from prying eyes for those who wanted to maintain their anonymity.

The main entrance was small but secure. The front door opened into a landing area, where the concierge maintained her vigilance on those who come in and those who left. Admission was by membership only, you keyed in your membership number and the front door unlocked. A gold class member could have a guest with her, females only though. All was strictly enforced.

Kathleen stood at the foot of the stairs. She took a moment and looked at the front doors, gazed at the small office for the concierge, and then looked back up the stairs to the beautiful lit wall that said The OWLS Club Dining Room, or as the French would say La salle à manger OWLS Club. She felt a lump in her throat. Michelle stood next to her, looking at the same locations, took hold of her Mistress’s hand, kissed it once more and said. “Tu as tout à fait le droit de me sentir fier de mon amour.” [You have every right to feel proud my love.]

A tear gathered in her eye, she squeezed her young French maiden’s hand, kissed her head and said “Merci.” [thank you] “But you see this was all born out of anger, fear and the deception of an old Italian man, who pretended to be something he wasn’t. He pushed me into this.” She then pointed to Mia and Emily, “and those two beautiful creatures, they saw an old building and had a vision of what could be, they saw this.” while she waved her arm around.

Michelle hugged her, tightly, lovingly. “Oui madam, but you gave them the authority to bring it to life. I love that about you. You are so strong and so so sexy when you start giving orders to everyone.”

Kathleen looked down at her once again, kissed her cheek and walked down into the Mary Ambrose Room. Michelle was walking slowly behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. Looking into her eyes albeit from two steps higher, “Mistress, should we not have some champagne to toast the happy couple no?”

“Yes we should, I will ring Ash at Korked and see if they will open up for me. Then you will go and collect the Champagne ok.”

“Yes Mistress, but I could go home and get some from the fridge; I think that your Ash does not like me so much.” She answered her Mistress.

Kathleen smiled at her, “I think Ashley likes you, but go on shoot off home if you must, but don’t be too long and don’t speed or drive like a mad Frenchman.”

“You mean like you my Mistress?” she said with a smile and then she poked her tongue out not cheekily but very seductively.

“Go before I change my mind and make you go next door,” Kathleen told her.

Michelle waggled her tush at her Mistress as she ran out of the building to get the Champagne. Knowing full well she would most likely go across her Mistress’s knee for that indiscretion later that night, with luck.

As soon as Michelle had left the building Kathleen’s phone rang again. “Hello Jean-Paul, yes I am sorry I got sidetracked. My great niece got engaged this morning, yes Emily. I will pass on your congratulations, yes Mia, the young ladies you met at my home.”

“Now Jean-Paul we have had a change of heart over here. We are preparing to make the announcement of the four Toulouse Lautrec paintings ourselves.” Kathleen took the phone from her ear as the Frenchman was less than happy with that announcement. Jean-Paul de Marigny was using a lot of language that Kathleen had not heard in a long time. “Jean-Paul, please calm down, ... can I speak please, ... Jean-Paul we can work something out for you.” As hard as Kathleen tried she couldn’t get to explain her position.

Finally she lost her patience. “Monsieur de Marigny, vous ne me parlerez pas sur ce ton de voix, ni n’insulterez ma famille. Si vous voulez abriter l’une de ces peintures dans votre galerie, vous m’écouterez. Vos menaces d’idoles ne signifient rien pour moi. Donc, c’est comme ça que ça va se passer. Une fois que nous aurons fait l’annonce, nous vous permettrons d’avoir les deux peintures que nous vous avons d’abord suggérées, et c’est tout ce que c’était une suggestion, il n’y avait pas de contrats durs signés. Donc, si vous les voulez dans votre galerie, je vous suggère de recadrer d’autres insultes et de me faire parvenir votre proposition de montrer les peintures.” Then abruptly ended the call. [Mister de Marigny, you will not talk to me in that tone of voice, nor will you insult my family. If you want to house any of these paintings in your gallery you will listen to me. Your idol threats mean nothing to me. So this is how it will be. Once we have made the announcement we will allow you to have the two paintings that we first suggested to you. AND that is all it was, a suggestion. There were no contracts signed. So if you want them in your gallery, I suggest to refrain from any more insults and forward me your proposal to show the paintings.”]

Terry came over to her and put his arm around her, “The Frenchman?” He asked. Kathleen nodded. The others were now looking at her. She waved at them to continue. She took a deep breath, straightened her back and marched over to the group. She smiled at everyone and cocked her head to the side as only an Ambrose can. Then stated “Let us continue, shall we? I have sent Michelle off to grab some champers for us to toast the happy couple. Let me see that ring you have on their Emily.”

Emily almost leapt into her great aunt’s arms, they hugged and she kissed the happy bride-to-be, she looked at the ring and immediately realised that it wasn’t a brand new ring, but one from long ago, that had been cleaned and reworked.

She kissed Emily again and then wrapped Mia in the warmest of hugs. Emily went off to talk to her mum and Granma. Kathleen whispering into Mia’s ear and said “Your Biz Nona’s, I’m guessing?”

“Yes, it has sentimental value that ring and it still looks classy. Besides the ones we were looking at were going to take forever to get adjusted. So when I talked to my gran about what I wanted to do, she insisted. Said most modern rings were junk anyway ... and laughed.”

Mia kept looking at Emily and couldn’t stop smiling, she saw how close she was to both her mum and gran ma, and all three of them were laughing and giggling. It was a beautiful sight.

The Mary Ambrose room was now complete, it looked splendid, special, a place where people could meet and enjoy their privacy. The colours, the red brick wall and stonework. The beautiful double glass doors with their brass fittings, welcoming them into the Amalie Grotto. These two rooms would house the paintings and the letters permanently. The ‘Grotto’ as it would become known, was a quiet place, where one could come and take in the love story from the mid 1800s.

The expensive wine, all 75 bottles, were removed into a secure undisclosed lock up, with only one case, the opened one, of 5 bottles being left at the club. But apart from only 3 people, no one actually knew where those 5 bottles were.

Kathleen, smiling at everyone, waved Anita over to her. “Anita, can you contact your media person and offer them a world exclusive, if they can get the story into this weekend’s paper.”

Anita stood back and smiled, “I can try.” She said in reply. “But I’m not sure he will believe me.” “Introduce me to him and I will convince him,” Kathleen stated.

Anita went and stood by herself as she made her call. She talked animatedly into her mobile phone, gesturing with her hands at first, then her whole body. Nodding her head, and laughing repeatedly. She then waved to Kathleen to accompany her. Kathleen watched, then headed over to her friend. Anita was mid-sentence, “Hang on a minute Simon, and I will let you talk to the owner of these four paintings. Simon here is Kathleen Ambrose.” Handing the phone to Kathleen, Anita told her she was talking to Simon Cuthbert from the Adelaide Advertiser.

“Hello, Simon, Kathleen Ambrose here.” She stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Strong and direct.

Simon started the conversation by stating that he was unaware of any new Henri Toulouse Lautrec paintings, let alone any found in a cellar in Port Adelaide. Kathy waited for him to catch his breath then told him. “Simon, you have 30 minutes to make any arrangements and call us back. We are giving you the heads up, in advance. I can absolutely guarantee the story will be breaking in Paris within the next 24 hours. There are 4 paintings here in Port Adelaide. They will be on display as of tomorrow. I suggest you do two things, quickly, make that 3 things.

1. Call your editor and book some space. 2. Get hold of a photographer and... 3. If you doubt me, call the person in the Art gallery on North Terrace, who is responsible for cleaning old paintings or whatever they call it, and ask him or her if they have over this past month been cleaning 4 undiscovered Toulouse Lautrec paintings for a local family.

If you haven’t rung me back within 30 minutes I will contact one of the East coast papers and give them the chance. And by the way, my contact in Paris doesn’t think you will be interested and in fact, you would have no idea who Henri Toulouse Lautrec is. 30 minutes Simon!” Kathleen handed back the phone to Anita, raised her eyebrows, smiled and walked away.