Jeanette glanced at her watch.

‘We’re going to have to leave it there,’ she said. ‘It’s been a pleasure. I’m so glad you made contact and that you were able to confirm the owner of the dress. You must keep in touch and let me know if you discover anything else about Anna’s wardrobe.’

‘I still don’t know that we can definitively claim that the gown was Anna’s just because we have proof that she modelled it in one painting,’ I said. ‘But it’s a very good start.’

I took one last, lingering look at the dress in the painting before allowing Jeanette to lead me back through the exhibition towards the podium. When she reached the desk, she paused and turned.

‘There is a suggestion that Catharina painted one last image of Anna. I’ve never seen it – it’s been held by the same family for generations. The owner’s name is Johann de Witte. He’s something of a recluse. He lives down south in a small township near Zeeland. I can give you the address. I’ve asked to visit him many times through the years and he’s always refused a meeting. If you wanted to email him, I have those details, too. My emails have never bounced so I’m pretty sure he receives them. He just never replies.’

I tried calling Liam as soon as I left the Rijksmuseum. My mind raced. I needed to tell him about the wedding portrait and the presence of Anna’s dress and the suggestion that Catharina might have been in love with her apprentice. His mobile rang out so I left a message asking him to call me back. Getting in my hire car, I programmed Johann de Witte’s address into the GPS system. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for an email that might not come. There were just enough hours in the day to make it down to Emmadorp and back before the last ferry to Texel left Den Hoorn at 8pm. Far from satisfying my curiosity, my time with Jeanette Hall had only reinforced my determination to discover if Anna was indeed the dress’s original owner. The sooner I had all the pieces of her tale, the sooner I could construct a story on which to hang the opening exhibition. Everything seemed more vibrant and alive as I navigated the winding Amsterdam streets that led onto the highway that would take me all the way down to Zeeland. The cherry trees shone with promise, the river water glinted in the canal and the sky was splashed with daubs of ultramarine blue.

I was on the verge of something, chasing down a woman who darted ahead, her silk dress catching the autumn light.

11

Anna

It takes Catharina another fortnight to track down the convent where Griet is living.