Recent Titles by Anthea Fraser from Severn House
The Rona Parish Mysteries
(in order of appearance)
BROUGHT TO BOOK
JIGSAW
PERSON OR PERSONS UNKNOWN
A FAMILY CONCERN
ROGUE IN PORCELAIN
NEXT DOOR TO MURDER
UNFINISHED PORTRAIT
Other Titles
PRESENCE OF MIND
THE MACBETH PROPHECY
BREATH OF BRIMSTONE
MOTIVE FOR MURDER
DANGEROUS DECEPTION
PAST SHADOWS
FATHERS AND DAUGHTERS
THICKER THAN WATER
UNFINISHEDPORTRAITAnthea Fraser
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This first world edition published 2010
in Great Britain and in the USA by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
915 High Street, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM1 1DF.
Copyright 2010 by Anthea Fraser.
All rights reserved.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Fraser, Anthea.
Unfinished Portrait. (The Rona Parish mysteries)
1. Parish, Rona (Fictitious character) Fiction. 2. Women
authors, English Fiction. 3. Women artists Fiction.
4. Missing persons Investigation Fiction. 5. Detective
and mystery stories.
I. Title II. Series
823.914-dc22
ISBN-13: 978-1-7801-0039-5 (ePub)
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-6884-8 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-224-6 (trade paper)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being
described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this
publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons
is purely coincidental.
ONE
R ona could hear the phone ringing as she put her key in the door. In one complicated manoeuvre she nudged the dog inside, pushed the door shut, dropped her carrier bags on the floor, and caught up the instrument.
Hello? she said breathlessly.
Rona? Good! I was just preparing to talk to a machine!
For a moment the voice eluded her. Then, with a touch of apprehension, she identified it as that of her editor at Jonas Jennings.
Prue? How are you? Its been a long time... Her voice tailed off in embarrassment.
It has indeed! Still pursuing your journalistic career?
Well, I
Prue Granger laughed. Relax! Im not about to pressurize you. But I have a project I think might be of interest one that would combine your talents, as it were.
Sounds intriguing, Rona said cautiously.
I hope so, but it could best be discussed over lunch. Todays Tuesday; how about Thursday this week? Are you free? One oclock at Papa Gigios in Covent Garden?
That would be fine, Prue. Thank you.
See you then, said Prue Granger, and rang off.
Rona looked down at the dog nuzzling her legs and bent to unfasten his lead. Then, picking up her shopping, she followed him down the basement stairs to the kitchen.
It was indeed a long time since shed spoken to Prue, she reflected, starting to unpack her bags. Her career as a biographer had been on hold for eighteen months or more, following the abortive ending of her last project due to murder and a legal minefield her publishers were unwilling to enter.
While she regained her balance, shed reverted to her secondary and, up to then, spasmodic work as a freelance writer for the glossy monthly Chiltern Life. But, incredibly, innocuous pursuits such as writing-up eight-hundred-year anniversaries, tracing birth parents, and researching the history of local firms had also resulted in death and disaster. Even befriending her next-door neighbours had proved a perilous undertaking.
Murders seem to seek you out, her husband Max had once observed, and though shed shied away from it, the phrase had lodged in her mind with an almost superstitious acceptance. If Prue wanted to speak to her, she reasoned now, it must surely mean shed a biographical subject in mind. With luck, that might break the chain, though what combining her talents meant, Rona had no idea.
On an impulse, she picked up the phone and rang her twins office. It was twenty past five; she shouldnt have left yet.
Lindsey Parish.
Hi, Linz, its me. Are you seeing Dominic this evening?
There was a pause. As it happens, no. Would you believe hes abroad again?
Then how about joining me at Dinos? Theres something Id like to talk over with you.
Sounds serious.
Not really. Id just like a sounding board.
My primary function, of course. Actually, since Ill probably be here till about seven, itll suit me quite well. Seven thirty OK?
Perfect, Rona said, with a lifting of her spirits. See you then.
Rona had given up explaining why, on the three evenings he held his art classes, Max spent the night at his cottage across town. Family and friends viewed the arrangement as at best bizarre, but since he wouldnt have got home much before bedtime, only to return to the studio first thing in the morning, it struck them both as a pointless exercise.
In fact the purchase of Farthings, with its airy upstairs studio, had in all probability saved their marriage; with both of them working from home, tempers had frayed when Max required loud music as he painted, and Rona total quiet in which to write. The outcome was that both now had space to follow their careers, leaving them free to appreciate each others company during his midweek return following afternoon classes and at weekends.
And it wasnt as though they werent in regular contact. They spoke on the phone at least twice a day, the main call to exchange news of the days happenings, the last, brief, one to say goodnight. That evening, Rona told him about Prues summons.
Will you be hauled over the coals for dereliction of duty? he enquired humorously.
She says not, but shes certainly got something lined up.
Well, youve nothing on hand at the moment, have you? Itll be good to have something to occupy you.
Rona was silent, admitting to herself that the tragedy next door, though nearly two months in the past, still haunted her. It had taken all her willpower to complete the article shed been working on, and knock it into shape for Chiltern Life.
Sweetie? Max prompted. You dont have to do it if you dont want to, you know.
She shook off her musing. I know; the trouble is, the longer I put off doing another bio, the harder it gets. Its such a commitment, Max; so much easier just to toss off the odd thing for Barnie, than look around for something new.
But youre wasting your talents. You know that. At least keep an open mind till you hear her proposal.
She sighed. Yes, of course. By the way, Lindsey and I are going to Dinos, so dont phone before eleven.
Right, Ill prop my eyelids open! Enjoy yourselves, and give Dino my regards. Im only sorry I cant join you.
Dinos was an Italian restaurant a brisk, six-minute walk from Ronas home, and she was a regular customer. Hating cooking as she did, when Max wasnt home to act as chef she invariably opted, according to mood, for ready-meals, takeaways or salads. And when she fancied none of them, she went to Dinos. Often, on arriving at the restaurant, shed find friends already there, and the obliging Dino would lay an extra place at their table.
