The frame was no longer empty.

Harry let out a string of swear words his mother would’ve clipped him around the ear for when he was younger and pulled out his walkie-talkie. His co-worker Mick was currently patrolling the courtyard and gardens.

“What is it, Shields?” he answered, sounding bored.

“I’m in the Dutch room, and, uh, I think there’s something you need to come see.”

***

Meanwhile, sailing down the motorway in a rented Ford Fusion, two best friends celebrated a job well done.

“I can’t believe we pulled that off,” said Alfie, grinning widely over at Jamie who was smiling, too, as he focused on the road ahead.

“Hey, you’re the mastermind in all this. I’m just the one who gave you a little push to go through with it.”

“It’s not like it didn’t take me months and months of planning,” Alfie said with a hint of self-deprecation.

“Oh, quit the modesty. You’re a genius, and I’m delighted to be along for the ride.”

“You’re not just along for the ride. If it weren’t for you I never would’ve had the courage to go through with it. I think I might actually be running off your bravery right now, because I’m not sure I ever possessed much myself.”

Jamie reached across and briefly squeezed his hand. “Nonsense. You’ve always been brave. You just needed the right person to bring it out of you. That’s where I come in, being the crazy, risk-taking son of a gun that I am. Besides, you know I could never resist a good adventure.”

“Well, I have always been a fan of your crazy.”

They shared a smile then silence fell, miles and miles of road passing them by.

Now Alfie frowned, the reality of what they’d just done suddenly sinking in. “Oh my God, Jamie. We just broke into a museum to return a painting that was stolen over twenty-five years ago. A painting that, if we’d returned it officially, could’ve seen us being rewarded millions of pounds for its recovery. I think we’re both insane.”

Jamie tilted his head to the side. “Well sure, but how would we explain having it in our possession? It’s not like we could just show up with an almost four-hundred-year-old Rembrandt, and tell them that when you were contracted by an art thief to paint a replica, you actually painted two. And that when the thief agreed to give you a moment alone with the original, you swapped it with the second replica and hid the real painting under your floor boards.”

“Well, when you put it like that I guess you’re right,” Alfie allowed.

“Of course, I’m right. I’m always right. The FBI would have to be involved. They’d want to know who exactly this art thief was and who had the painting all these years. And since your very dear cousin is now very much in love with said art thief, your hands were pretty much tied.”

“Andie’s going to kill me when she finds out,” said Alfie nervously.

“Maybe at first, but once she realises the risk you took to do the right thing, to return a piece of history to its rightful owner, I’m sure she’ll find it in her heart to forgive you your deception. Besides, even when the painting’s recovery is reported on the news, it’s not like this Renfield character will have any recourse, and you said yourself that both Andrea and Stuart used false names and disguises. He doesn’t even know their true identities.”

Alfie nodded, his confidence bolstered. “You’re right. And I spoke with Mum the other day. She wasn’t too happy about it, but I reminded her how the sale of my counterfeits provided for the lifestyle she’s been enjoying all these years. She owed me. I managed to guilt trip her into threatening Dad with informing the police about the money he hid in Swiss bank accounts before he was sent to prison. There’s far more in those accounts than he ever made from the sale of the painting, so I know he’ll keep his distance.”

Jamie smacked him on the thigh and laughed loudly. “Perfect! I have to admit, I’m quite proud of us. Tonight we’ve done something that will go down in the history books for years to come. They’ll forever wonder who the Good Samaritans were who returned the famous painting, and we’ll know it was us. Maybe one day, when I’m old and grey, I’ll sit down and tell all my grandchildren the tale of how my best friend in the whole wide world and I embarked on an impossible adventure.”

Alfie shot him an amused look. “Grandchildren?”

“Don’t look so shocked. Of course I plan to have grandchildren.”

“Yeah, but how—”

“When you and I adopt and our little one grows up, I’m sure they’ll want to reproduce.”

Alfie’s mouth dropped open in shock, his cheeks colouring themselves bright red. “You . . . and me . . . adopt?”

Jamie feigned a horrified expression. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those awful people who hate children? Because if you are, I might have to rethink this whole being in love with you business.”

Now Alfie could barely form words. He stared at his friend, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Of course, he’d secretly held a candle for Jamie for years, always too afraid to tell him for fear of losing their friendship. But he never for a second imagined his feelings were reciprocated.

Jamie glanced back and forth between him and the road. “Well, say something. Don’t leave a gentleman hanging.”

Alfie flushed all the way down to his toes. “I love you, too,” he said in a barely audible mumble.

Jamie grinned, well aware of his embarrassment. “Do speak up, darling. I didn’t hear a word you just said.”

“Oh for crying out loud,” Alfie huffed. “I love you, okay. I’ve loved you since . . . forever.”

Pleased as punch, Jamie pulled the car over onto the side of the road. As soon as they were safely out of the way of any oncoming traffic, he grabbed Alfie by the face and kissed him hard right on the mouth. Alfie gasped, sinking into the kiss like he’d been waiting for it his entire life.

The painting had been returned.

He’d done the right thing.

And now he was kissing the love of his life in the front of a rented Ford something-or-other.

END.