Free Maestra by L. S. Hilton

lifted the picture out. I pointed out where I had remembered the Newmarket sign being placed, and where I thought the signature had been moved.
    ‘Judith, I can’t say. It really looks alright to me.’
    ‘But there was a sign, just here. How new is that varnish?’
    Our heads were close together as we peered at the canvas, both our fingertips hovering over the emptied space.
    ‘If it was cleaned,’ Dave said, engaged now, ‘there might be a trace on the underpainting. We need to get it under the right light.’
    ‘Well, can we move it?’
    ‘Where did you say the signature was?’
    ‘Yes, where was it?’ Rupert. They say that fat people can often move with surprising stealth. I laughed stupidly.
    ‘Rupert. Hi, sorry, we were just –’
    ‘Please explain what you are doing. You are a junior, you have no permission to be here.’ Actually it wasn’t that big a deal. I’d popped down after hours many times. Usually because Rupert had asked me to. He turned to Dave, his voice softer.
    ‘What are you two up to, eh? Isn’t it time you were getting home, Dave?’
    Dave looked mortified and mumbled a good evening. I hated the way he called Rupert ‘sir’. Rupert stayed affable, politely undramatic until he limped off up the stairs, then considered me for a long moment. In the bluish light he looked like a strangely bloated El Greco. I knew he wasn’t going to make a scene. Power is so much more effective when it’s quiet.
    ‘Judith, I’ve been meaning to speak to you for a while. I don’t really think you fit in here, do you? I wanted to give you a chance, but I’ve had several complaints in the department about your attitude. Your comments at the Stubbs meeting were inappropriate and frankly impertinent.’
    ‘I just thought – that is, I was trying – I wasn’t sure –. ’ I was babbling like a guilty schoolgirl, furious with myself but unable to stop.
    ‘I think it would be better if you get your things and leave now, don’t you?’ he added calmly.
    ‘You’re – firing me?’
    ‘If you want to put it like that, yes. I am.’
    I was bewildered. Instead of protesting, instead of defending myself, I just started to cry. Absurd. All the frustrated tears I had kept down chose that moment to bubble up like a geyser, reducing me despite myself to the role of pleading woman. Even as I felt those hot, furious tears massing in my eyes, I knew that Rupert was hiding something. Even that the stupid party invitation had been meant as a sop to keep me quiet. Yet this wasn’t how it was meant to be, was it? I was trying to do the right thing, the good thing.
    ‘Rupert, please. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. If I could just explain?’
    ‘I have no interest in your explanations.’
    He ignored me as we made our way back to the department. I walked in front of him through the narrow corridors, feeling like a prisoner. He stood with his arms folded as I gathered the bits and pieces from my desk and scooped them into my briefcase. My dress and heels for the club were stuffed at the bottom. I couldn’t bear to see them.
    ‘Are you ready?’
    I nodded dumbly.
    ‘I need your pass, please. I don’t think there’s any need to ask Security to see you out.’
    I handed it over, mute.
    ‘Off you go then, Judith.’
    I thought of Colonel Morris. I thought of the skivvying I had done for Rupert, fetching his suits from the tailor, picking up his laundered shirts, phone calls I had fielded when he’d skived off, pissed after lunch, extra hours I’d spent in the library and the archives, trying to prove that I was better, that I was smarter, that I could run faster, that I could take more and do better. I had been humble and diligent. I had never allowed it to show that I felt slighted and excluded. I had never let any of them – Laura, Oliver, Rupert – see that I even noticed the differences between us. My Oxbridge degree was a better degree than any of theirs. I had actually believed that with time and