Never Forgive Never Forget (Celeste and Philip) novel Chapter 159

Morning.

Celeste had managed to get a few hours of restful sleep before a phone call roused her awake.

"Hello, is this Miss Duncan?"

"This is Claud—I'm the coordinator for the ceramics exhibition. I believe I spoke with Mr. Alfred before; I'm not sure if you remember me?"

The voice on the other end was warm and courteous.

Half-awake, Celeste nodded, then replied, "Yes, I remember you. Is there something you need, calling so early?"

"This year's ceramics show—I was hoping your mother's work could be featured. Pieces from her collection are truly rare, and most of the attendees are friends from the industry who would love to see her art in person."

"There's one more thing. Since this is a public event, some attendees might bring their children along, and your mother's ceramics are truly precious."

"So, for safety reasons, my suggestion is… perhaps only display one signature piece, and use replicas for the rest."

Claud spoke with gentle caution.

Celeste understood immediately. This was standard practice for public exhibitions.

Her mother's ceramics were priceless. If anything happened—if even the smallest chip appeared—it was doubtful Claud could ever compensate for the loss. So, high-quality replicas would be put on display for the public to view up close, while the originals could be featured in the exhibition catalogue for people to admire in photographs.

The only catch was that the replicas would have to be made by Celeste herself.

Still, it meant her mother's work would be seen by so many more people. Wasn't that exactly what her mother had always hoped for? She'd never made those ceramics for prestige or profit—she just wanted to share their beauty with the world.

Celeste found herself smiling at the memory of her mother, hard at work at the pottery wheel, a gentle, contented smile on her face.

"All right," she agreed. "If you're available, maybe we could meet to discuss the details?"

Celeste teased him one evening, "Aren't you worried I'll just run off with all your ceramics and sell them?"

Claud didn't hesitate. "You'd never treat another artist's work that way." Glancing at the clock, he added, "Don't push yourself too hard—make sure to rest. I'll leave you to it."

"I will," Celeste replied with a smile, turning back to her work, feeling a rare sense of peace.

Ever since the concert, she'd felt this deep contentment welling up inside her. She loved this craft, and even the busiest days felt meaningful.

Outside, Claud dialed Alfred's number.

"She's spending most of her time working here at the studio. I've set up a guest room for her, and the security system is up and running as usual. You don't need to worry."

"Good," Alfred said, sounding relieved.

With the elevator issue finally sorted out, and with Viola and Philip still hanging around, it was safer for Celeste to stay at the studio—doing what she loved—than risk being harassed at home.