A Light Between Oceans Episode 34
The gallery was tucked behind a courtyard, its mellow wood facade setting off the vibrant colours of the paintings displayed in the windows.
A bell pinged as Lucas opened the door and a smartly dressed young man greeted them.
“Goedemorgen.”
“Good morning. I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Dutch.” Lucas smiled sheepishly.
“Ah, you must be Mr Brook?” The man ushered them into the elegant room.
“I believe you wanted to speak to Mr Rynsburger.”
“Yes, please. I wrote to him and we have an appointment.”
The young man disappeared and Sandy gazed at the paintings that graced the walls – a contemporary collection with bold colours and shapes.
“Mr Brook and Miss Ashford – how do you do?” A tall grey-haired man approached Lucas, his hand outstretched.
“Hello, Mr Rynsburger. Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us.”
“A pleasure,” he replied courteously. “I have been looking forward to meeting the son of Hans Van Bakkar.”
“You remember him!” Lucas exclaimed.
“Yes, indeed.” Then Mr Rynsburger turned to Sandy.
“I hope you have been enjoying your visit to our city, Miss Ashford.”
“Oh, yes, very much! And your gallery is beautiful.”
Mr Rynsburger smiled.
“You must see the other collections.
“In fact, Mr Brook, we have your father to thank for two paintings we own, by Pieter de Hooch.”
He led them through a series of rooms, and Lucas turned to Sandy, a look of wonder and barely contained excitement filling his face.
She squeezed his hand as they followed Mr Rynsburger to a small room with a bay window.
“Here they are,” he said, gesturing to the gilt-framed pictures, one of the interior of a room with a doorway leading to a garden, another of people gathered in a town square.
“Your father handled the sale of these masterpieces, Mr Brook,” he added.
“This is a dream come true, Mr Rynsburger,” Lucas said, his voice catching.
“I’ve been trying to find out as much as I can about my father, but there seems to be a part of his life that’s mysterious.
“I’ve only recently discovered that he was in the art business in this capacity.
“I grew up thinking of him as a successful proprietor of an art supplies shop.”
“Ah. He kept things to himself.” Mr Rynsburger nodded.
“He did. The big question is what he did during the war years.
“It seems he disappeared, though I have found some letters that prove he was in England.
“And there’s something else that I didn’t explain on the telephone.” Lucas opened the bag and lifted out the painting.
“I discovered that he was also quite a fine artist.”
Mr Rynsburger leaned forward, examining the painting.
“He certainly was,” he said slowly. “What a surprise. It’s a most original style. Where is the setting?”
“It’s a little town in England called Belmouth,” Lucas explained.
“I have no idea what he was doing there or what brought him to England during the war.
“I hoped you might know something about it.”
Mr Rynsburger stood back from the painting, his expression unreadable.
“The war years were extremely difficult for us all here, as you know.
“I cannot be certain of your father’s movements during that time.”
“Do you remember him saying anything that might be a clue?” Lucas persisted.
“If you can remember anything at all, I would be most grateful.”
Mr Rynsburger turned to Lucas, and Sandy saw compassion and pain in the man’s face.
“Shall we sit down?” he suggested, gesturing to a padded bench in the centre of the room.
They settled themselves and he continued.
“You know of the Resistance, Mr Brook?”
“Yes. I’ve read a lot about it,” Lucas replied eagerly. “Do you think my father was part of it?”
“He might have been. Many of our people, including members of the Resistance, attempted to cross the North Sea to escape to England,” Mr Rynsburger explained.
“Many died or were captured,” he went on, “but some of those who managed to get to England fought against the Nazis.
He paused for a moment.
“And some became secret agents,” he finished.
“Do you think my father might have been among them?” Lucas was shocked.
“Is it possible he was an agent? But why would he have been in this little seaside town?”
Mr Rynsburger shrugged.
“Secret agents were sent all over.
“There were German spies everywhere as well, and Nazi sympathisers from Britain, all trying to sabotage the war effort.
“It was a game of cat and mouse.”
Lucas sat speechless for a moment, trying to take it all in.
“So it was possible that my father was working as a British spy.” There was a look of boyish excitement and wonder in his face, but Mr Rynsburger was sombre.
Sandy sensed tension building and felt a need to break it.
“Mr Rynsburger, we’re very grateful, and we hope we haven’t taken up too much of your time or upset you in any way.”
Lucas regained his composure.
“Yes. Thank you for everything you’ve told us.” He paused, studying the man’s grave face.
“Is there something else? I want to get to the truth.”
Rynsburger shifted his position and took a long breath.
“Mr Brook, since you feel as you do, I suppose I should point out another possibility.
“Your father had many connections in Germany through his art dealings, and he spoke perfect German, but I expect you know that.”
“No, I didn’t,” Lucas admitted. “I never heard him speak a word of German.”
“He would have been very useful to the Nazis,” Mr Rynsburger replied.
“You’re saying he was an enemy agent?” Lucas cried, unable to believe what he was hearing. “That my father was a traitor?”