The Art of Deception (Choc Lit) (8 page)

She smiled at him,
hugely relieved that they seemed to have returned to their normal banter. ‘What do you think he’ll do, then?’

‘
The frieze above the door of the Church of San Silvestro. There’s a small mountain which has got four streams on it and a growing vine. I bet he focuses on the vine. It’s meant to represent the Church or God, but I doubt that our George will be thinking about its symbolic interpretation.’

She
giggled. ‘I don’t think I should be listening to this.’

‘
Don’t get me wrong, he’s a really nice man, and I very much enjoyed talking to him at coffee this morning. But I’m not sure that his heightened colour can be put down to spiritual fervour, despite the fact that we’re surrounded by churches and museums replete with religious paintings.’

Laughing, s
he glanced back at the group. Seeing that the others were dawdling and were still some way behind them, she stopped walking. ‘We’d better wait a moment. We’re almost there and I haven’t pointed out a single thing so far.’

‘
Come on; they’ll be fine. After all, they’ve got a map. We’ll wait for them when we get to the square. To be honest, I’m enjoying being able to talk to you without anyone interrupting us.’

I
t was a sentiment they shared, she thought. But for different reasons. She felt a wave of regret start to wash over her again, and she swallowed hard. She must keep her focus on how to profit from her time alone with him, and not on how much she was enjoying talking to him and being with him. Yes, he was great company and he clearly had a good sense of humour – the sexiest characteristic a man could have, she’d always thought – but having fun wasn’t the reason she was there.

Originally, s
he’d thought that him coming across in the evenings would give her enough time to get to know him. But it hadn’t worked out like that. The others all wanted to speak to him, too, and he obliged them all. In fact, she spoke to him less than to anyone else at dinner. But the week was flying by at a frightening speed. This afternoon in Bevagna was the best quality time she’d had with him so far, and she couldn’t afford to waste a precious second of it.

‘
Fortunately, your fears of a large crowd around the fountain haven’t materialised,’ Max remarked, breaking into her thoughts as they reached the Piazza Silvestri and went across to the fountain to wait for the others.

‘Fortunately, you’re right,’ she said, looking around.

After a moment or two of silence, he glanced down at her.
‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you that I was enjoying talking to you. It seems to have been a real conversation killer. You’ve been miles away ever since I said that.’

She gave an awkward laugh.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve been mentally rehearsing what to say to the class before I send them off to have a look around. I thought I ought to remind them what there is to see.’

‘
As I said before, they’ve got a map. Ah, here they are. And no surprises who’s first.’

‘
What a pretty little town this is,’ Paula enthused as she and Howard came up to them. ‘It’s so very sweet. We just couldn’t help stopping and looking at everything.’

Clare, Ste
phen and Nick followed close behind them, with George only a short distance away.

When
he’d reached them, they all gathered around Jenny.

‘
Before we go our separate ways,’ she said, ‘there are just a couple of things to tell you. Carlo will be staying in front of the bar over there. He’ll have your painting equipment with him.’ She pointed to a small bar on the corner of the square, outside of which a few men were sitting on colourful upright chairs. ‘When you’ve seen all you want to see and are ready to start drawing, come and collect your things from him.’

They nodded.

‘If you’re thirsty, you can pick up something from the bar here or from the one in Piazza Garibaldi, which is near the remains of the Roman temple. There are several little shops, which sell specialities of the region, but they won’t be open till later. I don’t know if you still want to do any shopping, Paula, but you’re probably better hanging on until Assisi tomorrow, if you can.’ She turned and pointed to the fountain. ‘As you can see, the fountain has a couple of water spouts. If you want, you can drink from them, although personally I never drink from a fountain, whatever the sign says.’

Max nodded.
‘I’m with Jenny on that. I’d follow her advice, if I were you.’ The warmth in his voice embraced her.

S
uddenly self-conscious, she raised her hand and smoothed down her hair.

‘
Where was I?’ she said, trying to get her thoughts back on track. ‘Oh, yes, talking about water. Do try and see the old Roman baths. They’re under a building that’s accessed through a side door. It’s marked on the map. You have to ring the bell at number two, which is the house on the left, and ask the custodian to let you in, but it’s free of charge.’

‘
Think I’ll give that a miss. I’ve seen Roman baths before,’ Nick said.

‘
That may be,’ Max cut in, ‘but this is the most magnificent sheet of mosaic flooring that I’ve seen anywhere. The details on the sea creatures are quite amazing. A display on one of the walls shows you what the bath would have looked like two thousand years ago and how the Romans would have used it. Believe me, it’s worth a visit.’

‘
Howie and I are definitely going to go there before we go anywhere else,’ Paula said quickly. ‘Aren’t we, Howie?’

‘
Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart.’

Jenny
smiled around at the group. ‘Is there anything anyone wants to ask me?’

They shook
their heads.

‘
It’s three o’clock now. Why don’t we meet here again at six-thirty? That will give you plenty of time to see all you want, and the shops will have been open for a little while in case you want to have a quick browse through them before we leave. Hopefully, you’ll have managed to fit a drawing in, too. I’ll try to get round to all of you at some point during the afternoon. Well, I see that Carlo’s in position now, so off you go.’

‘
And a most attractive position it is, too,’ she heard George remark to Nick, indicating Carlo, who had joined the men sitting in front of the bar.

She turned to Max. T
he others had gone, and they were completely alone at last. Despite the daunting task ahead of her, she couldn’t help feeling a frisson of excitement.

Chapter Eight

Jenny
leaned forward and helped herself to a small tomato
bruschetta
.

‘
I really shouldn’t be eating this,’ she said, popping it into her mouth. ‘I had a very good lunch, and I know what Maria’s got planned for this evening. I’ll be enormous by the time I’m back in England.’

‘
I don’t think you’ve anything to worry about,’ Max said warmly. Their eyes met across the table but both immediately looked away. He glanced round the almost-empty square. ‘I had the right idea, bringing you here,’ he said. ‘It’s never as crowded as it is in Silvestri. Paula and Howard will be long gone by now – we were in the shop for quite a while – and if any of the other budding Picassos had thought about venturing all the way across the town, you mentioning a Roman temple in the vicinity is bound to have put them off. I’m sure we’re safe for a bit.’

She laughed.
‘I think you’re being a little hard on them.’

He grinned.
‘Maybe.’

‘
But I will admit that not one of them, not even Paula, comes close to having the same degree of interest in art and aesthetics as you do, Max. And I’m not just talking about your collection of paintings and the galleries you visit. Look at the care you’re taking over the interior of your house, and it isn’t even your main home. How many other people would bother about the colour and shape of a fruit bowl?’

‘
I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t really thought about it, but the family business is textiles, and that requires an eye for colour, texture and design. I guess those interests are in my genes.’ He leaned forward to take a truffle-topped
bruschetta
.

At the same moment
Jenny reached for another tomato one. Their hands touched. Sparks of electricity winged up her bare arm, and she pulled quickly back.

‘
Go on,’ he said, pushing the plate towards her. ‘Have another one. If you don’t, I’ll feel guilty about eating so many.’

‘
Oh, all right, then.’ Her skin still tingling, she reached for the
bruschetta
. She bit into it, and stopped – he’d just mentioned his family and she’d almost missed it! It may have only been a passing remark, but this was the opening she’d been waiting for, and she should’ve instantly seen it. What on earth was the matter with her? She must pull herself together, and fast.

She swallowed the mouthful of
bruschetta
. ‘Are your parents as interested in interior decoration as you are, Max?’ she asked, keeping her voice casual.

‘
I’ve never really thought about it. They certainly took great care over the pictures they hung on their walls. They didn’t have a collection as such, though. And not one of us – not me, not my parents, not my brother – was any good at drawing. We’re not creative in that way: just appreciative.’

He’d mentioned
Peter, and she couldn’t not build on this.

She felt cold all over.
She was going to have to remind him that he’d lost his brother. She hated the idea of doing such a horrible thing, but he might think it strange if she didn’t pick up on the mention of him. And this could be the only chance she’d have to talk about his family. No, she’d no choice but to make the most of it.

She
made a conscious effort to think of her mother’s features, etched with a grief that had lasted so many years, and she took a deep breath.

‘
When I first saw your advert, I googled your company and I couldn’t help seeing the obituaries for your brother. I’m so sorry, Max. He was very young to die. And Stephen was very young to lose his father. It must have been terrible for your family.’

‘
It was,’ he said quietly. ‘Really terrible. I’d never want to live through a time like that again. Peter was eight years older than me, but despite our age difference he was my best friend. I joined the family business very young – I used to help in the office when I was still at school, and I joined the company full-time when I was sixteen. Peter was there for me every step of the way. That probably made us even closer. Stephen was only fourteen when his dad died. I’ve tried to be a stand-in father to him, but I know he still misses Peter. And so do I.’

‘
I’m so sorry, perhaps you’d rather not talk about him.’

‘
No, it’s OK. He’ll always be a very important part of my life and I wouldn’t want him to be forgotten, or to be someone who could only be mentioned in hushed tones. I’m not saying he was an angel, mind you – he wasn’t. He made decisions I didn’t agree with and I told him so, but he was a terrific brother and I’m happy to have a chance to talk about him. Anyway, that’s enough about me. What about you? Are your parents artists?’

‘
I don’t know about my dad, but my mother could have been very good. Unfortunately, though, she could only paint as a hobby.’ She paused, and then quickly went on. ‘She was very young when she had me, and she and my father had a lot of financial worries so there just wasn’t enough time and money for her to take it seriously.’

‘
What does your father do?’

For a moment she wondered whether she should end the deception that was beginning to tear her
apart, and tell him the truth. But the moment passed: it was just too soon in their friendship. ‘He had his own business. Stephen and I have something in common – my father also died when I was young. Afterwards, my mother lost any desire to paint. She hasn’t picked up a brush since then, and I don’t think she ever will again.’

‘
I’m sorry for asking you something that led to a sad memory.’ He paused for a moment. ‘But they would have come up at some point – your father and Peter, I mean.’

A chill ran through her. Had he guessed who she was?

‘Why do you say that?’ Her voice seemed to come from far away.

He s
tared into her face. ‘Because I want to get to know you better,’ he said quietly. ‘Until today, I’ve only been scratching the surface. I may not have known you for long, Jenny, but it’s been long enough for me to know that I want to learn much more about you.’

She
relaxed again. ‘How funny,’ she said, her voice shaking a little. ‘I feel exactly the same about you.’ She felt herself start to blush.

‘
Well, if we’re going to delve deep below the surface, perhaps we should anaesthetise ourselves first. How about another white wine? We’ve got the time.’

‘
I’ll have an Aperol soda this time, please. I’ve still got to have a look at everyone’s work, and I don’t want to be seeing double when I do my rounds.’

He laughed and
stood up. ‘You’re right about that. I’m sure that one of each noble effort will be more than enough. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He disappeared into the dark interior of the restaurant.

Jenny
stared around the
piazza
, biting her lip. They’d finally got on to the subject of their families, which was a huge leap forward, and he’d even gone as far as to hint about things that his company had got wrong in the past. Perhaps he’d even been thinking about her father. She’d love to know, but she couldn’t ask him yet. No, she couldn’t have asked for the afternoon to have gone better. So why did she feel so flat, she wondered.

Max
returned to the table, closely followed by a waiter who was carrying a tray of drinks.

He
sat down. ‘I’ve asked for some more of the
crostini
with wild boar
pâté
,’ he said as the waiter put their drinks in front of them. ‘I’m having the same as you: it looks refreshing.’

‘
Did you make yourself understood in there?’ she asked with a smile.

He laughed.
‘We’ll soon find out. I certainly hope so. I know that
cinghiale
is wild boar, but if they didn’t understand
pâté,
we could have a problem of enormous dimensions on a tiny bit of toasted bread. Cheers.’ He raised his glass to her.

‘
Salute
,’ she reciprocated, and took a sip of her drink. ‘Are you planning on spending a lot of time in Italy, Max? After all, you seem to be treating your house as more than just a holiday home, putting good paintings on the walls and paying a lot of attention to items like fruit bowls.’

‘
I hope to come over several times a year, even if I can only stay for a few days at a time on some of the visits. I intend to stay for the whole of every August, though, and I see the art courses as being one of the highlights of the summer.’

‘
Even with people like Paula on them? She should never have asked to see your paintings or use the internet. She knows your house is off-limits – I told them so at the start of the week.’

‘
It’s not a problem. I should’ve arranged for the internet to be installed before they got here – not everyone has a smartphone and it’s reasonable for them to want to check their e-mails. I’ll sort that out before next year.’

‘
That’s very kind of you, but if you change your mind, I can easily have a word with Howard and Paula.’

‘
It’s nothing. I really don’t mind.’ He leaned closer to her. ‘But what’s far from nothing is the fact that I promised to take you to a local restaurant to sample their
tagliatelle al tartufo
. As you can see, I haven’t forgotten.’

She laughed.
‘Don’t worry – you were just being polite. I won’t hold you to your promise. After all, we were just joking around, weren’t we?’

‘
Isn’t there a saying, many a true promise is spoken in jest?’

She laughed
again. ‘If you say so.’

‘
I do. A promise is a promise and we shall go.’ She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand. ‘Stop. I know what you’re going to say. We’ll go, but not while the class is here. It’s pretty obvious that you can’t leave them for the whole evening: you’re the one who’s holding the different elements together and you need to be there. I shall just have to be patient.’

‘
So when do you suggest we go, then?’ she asked, trying to quell the sense of excitement that was welling up inside her.

‘
On Saturday evening. The group will be leaving for home throughout the day, but I think I’m right in saying that they’ll all be gone by late afternoon. You’re bound to be feeling a bit lonely when they’ve left, and actually, so will I. Going out to dinner together will be the perfect way to end the week.’

‘
What about Stephen?’

‘
There’s enough to keep him amused at the house. If he’s truly desperate, he could make a start on his university work. So, is that agreed?’

She looked up from her drink and stared at him. In the depths of his eyes, there was unmistakable admiration.
But there was something else, too.

‘
Yes, it is,’ she said, her voice strange to her ears. ‘Thank you. I’m already looking forward to it.’

And she realised
that despite her determination to keep her emotions in check, she really was.