by Rebecca Lim
She beamed at Janey, who tried hard not to look blank. Obviously, Libby hadn’t managed to tell Celia about Fellini and Janey was loath to bring the subject up with Celia so excited for her about the exhibition. Raffaello? She thought wildly. Wasn’t that a type of, uh, chocolate?
Celia smiled, as though Janey had spoken aloud. ‘One of the leading artists of the Italian High Renaissance. Otherwise known to the English-speaking world as Raphael. You might have seen his tomb in the Pantheon. A couple of our staff members didn’t take up their tickets, so you and Freddy – lucky things! – get to go. Freddy will be home later tonight – she’s having dinner with her father.’ As Celia backed out of the room, she told Janey to dress casually for dinner at a local osteria just around the corner from the apartment.
After her aunt had gone, Janey’s expression grew thoughtful. Maybe there would be a chance to bring the subject of Fellini up with Celia later. As she changed for dinner, she made an amused face at her own reflection. Somehow, Freddy didn’t strike her as much of an art lover! It would be an interesting morning, no doubt.
Celia saw them both down to the car the next day. Janey had only just learnt that Luca was driving them to the exhibition at the Museo Galleria e Borghese – the sixteenth-century art gallery that had originally been the palace of the aristocratic Borghese family, located within the lovely gardens where she’d shared a picnic lunch with Luca on her very first day in Rome – and she had to concentrate hard on keeping her expression neutral, what with Celia watching her every move!
‘Buongiorno, signorina Gordon e signorina Del Gigli,’ murmured Luca formally as first Janey, then Freddy, climbed into the back seat.
‘Have fun, girls!’ Celia sighed. ‘I wish I was going with you, instead of to that boring seminar on Eastern Bloc policies.’
Janey waved out the window to her aunt, stung by the thought that she still hadn’t managed to update Celia on what had been going on. Her aunt had been so upbeat and chatty at dinner the night before that Janey hadn’t dared to bring up the subject for fear of causing any more tension.
Freddy sank down low in her seat and maintained a sullen silence. She started needling Luca in Italian as soon as he left the kerb, excluding Janey from the conversation. But Luca would have none of it.
‘Speak English,’ he said. ‘Janey, she cannot understand us. It is rude.’
‘Well, she’s welcome to listen,’ Freddy shrugged, ‘but it’s got nothing to do with her anyway! Sorry Janey, but this is between me and extreme-failure-to-commit over here. Why won’t you say yes, amico mio?’
Janey tried very hard not to look as if she was eavesdropping and stared out her window as if she couldn’t care less about the intriguing conversation swirling around her.
‘Because you are not yet sixteen!’ said Luca testily, as if they’d had this discussion many times before. ‘Your mother, she is my boss! She will not like that I take you out dancing.’
‘I’ve got fake ID,’ Freddy wheedled. ‘And you know when I’m totally made up and dressed to kill I can pass for a uni student.’
The pair broke back into impatient Italian and their heated exchange continued until Freddy finally snarled in English, ‘Fine. Fine! Have it your way, caro. You’re missing out! Now this whole trumped-up expedition is a waste of my time. Mother knows I hate art, so you’ll forgive me, Janey,’ she shot Janey a sharp glance, ‘if I ask Luca to drop me at Luz’s on the way to the Galleria Borghese. And don’t bother telling my mother about this little unscheduled detour of mine, Luca, or I’ll make more trouble for you than you can even envisage.’
‘You ’ave already made plenty for me!’ Luca replied tersely.
‘Well, it’s easy enough to fix,’ Freddy spat. ‘Just say yes.’
Luca remained silent, his profile tight-lipped.
‘Um,’ Janey piped up from her corner.
‘Um nothing,’ Freddy said. ‘I’m on holiday. And holidays and creepy old Renaissance paintings are mutually exclusive in my book.’
Janey didn’t bother to point out that she was on holiday too and that creepy old Renaissance paintings weren’t really her thing either.
‘Anyway, seen one Raffaello, seen ’em all. Take me to Luz’s place, Luca. Now.’ Freddy’s tone bordered on petulant.
‘Okay,’ said Luca. ‘It is as you wish.’ They had almost reached the Gallery by way of the Viale delle Belle Arti, but Luca did as Freddy ordered and turned the car around, heading in the direction of the exclusive residential area of Parioli, where Luz’s very wealthy family owned a seventeenth-century palazzo.
After Freddy flounced out of the car without another word, slamming the door in a fit of pique before being admitted into the imposing grey stone palazzo by a grave-looking manservant, Janey and Luca were alone in the car together. It had all happened so quickly that Janey only just remembered that she should, by rights, be very nervous about that development!
‘She is hard work, that one,’ said Luca. ‘You will enjoy the exhibition a little more, I think? Now she ’as gone.’
Janey smiled, though her intrigue remained at the depth of feeling Freddy seemed to harbour for Luca. He really was a heartbreaker. ‘I feel more relaxed already,’ she murmured.
Luca gave her a fleeting grin over his shoulder as he did what felt like the umpteenth u-turn that day.
They lapsed into silence as Luca took several shortcuts near the splendid Villa Glori park and headed in the direction of the Galleria Borghese once more.
‘May I ask,’ said Luca after a while, ‘whether your bad humour with me – it has improved?’
Janey couldn’t help but smile again at the elaborate politeness of Luca’s pointed question. She decided to do some conversational digging around of her own. Two could play at this game!
Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, she thought.
‘Sorry if it seemed that way to you,’ she said neutrally, ‘but I’ve had a few things on my mind. One of them being that some juvenile prankster has got hold of my Italian mobile number and is sending me repulsive text messages.’
Luca shot her a startled look in the driver’s mirror.
Janey pulled out her mobile phone with a show of great reluctance and read the most recent message to him, all the while watching his eyes in the mirror.
‘When did you receive this?’ he snapped. ‘Yesterday? At the embassy?’
It was amazing how quick he was, she thought. If he didn’t send it!
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
‘Well, that explains many things!’ he replied with the air of a man who had just solved a particularly difficult puzzle. ‘The number? What is it?’
Janey recited the mystery caller’s number and Luca surprised her by saying, ‘Let us dial it. Now. We shall see who this – this joker is.’ And he punched the number into his mobile phone, which was plugged into the car’s hands-free system. In a second, the sound of the mystery mobile’s dial tone came over the car’s speakers.
Janey shivered. Maybe Fellini would actually pick up! She leant forward intently as the connection was established.
‘Pronto?’ someone answered, in a deep voice. Janey breathed in raggedly. The caller had just confirmed her suspicions – Fellini was a man!
Luca only had time to snap, ‘Chi parla? Mi chiamo Luca Sarti—’ before whoever it was hung up, without saying another word.
‘Sprung!’ said Janey excitedly. ‘That sounded like a pretty guilty response to me. Is there any way we can trace that number and find out who he really is?’
‘Not unless you make the complaint,’ Luca responded as he eased the car into a parking spot a short walking distance from the main entrance of the Villa Borghese. He turned and looked at her searchingly. ‘You wish to do that? There are many – how do you say – formalities, but it is possible. I can help.’
He seemed so sincere that Janey’s doubts about him melted away. How could she have thought he was the one behind Fellini’s antics when he’d actua
lly dialled the guy’s number and been prepared to stand up to him? Her heart skipped a beat. She wouldn’t have had the guts to do the same thing, it hadn’t even occurred to her to take the fight right up to Fellini that way.
‘If he tries it again, I might take you up on that,’ she said.
‘Deal,’ Luca replied, adding, ‘but you must tell me if this man, he troubles you again? And if you find you are free this Saturday afternoon, my sister Lucia and her friends, they meet at the Stazione Termini at noon to take the train once more to Ostia. And she would still love to ’ave your company, as would I.’
Charmed, Janey’s heart flipped over again, and she wondered what all the girlfriends could possibly be doing that Luca had time to go to the beach with her.
Somehow, despite everything that had happened so far, she found herself saying bemusedly that yes, a beach trip sounds rather lovely as she slid out of the back seat, waving as Luca drove away.
Privately, Janey had been dreading the art exhibition, probably as much as Freddy. She didn’t mind wandering through a decorated church, but she didn’t think an actual exhibition of heavy religious pictures was her bag. Some saint was usually involved, for one thing, dying in a horribly complicated way. She loved her new painting of Rome – that kind of stuff she could relate to – but an exhibition of paintings by some prodigy of the Italian High Renaissance sounded about as exciting as a cold bath.
But as Janey absorbed the high-ceilinged rooms of the Villa Borghese – filled with marble, gold leaf, cherubs, saints, busts and countless other fanciful things, among which Raffaello’s artworks were lovingly placed – she was pleasantly surprised.
Sure, it had to be said that there was a lot of death and dying in the Raffaello exhibition, but the portraits were astonishing. There was an intimate painting of a dark-eyed woman in an elaborate peach silk dress and long simple veil dated 1514–15 – how long ago! – that seemed to glow with an inner life and light. Janey was just turning away from the haunting portrait of a grave-eyed, flaxen-haired young woman with a unicorn when Brandon appeared beside her.
As usual, he looked good enough to be on the cover of an international men’s fashion mag. But seeing him here, when she hadn’t expected to run into anyone she knew, caused Janey’s insides to go icy.
‘What are you doing here?’ she gasped. She recalled Em’s words about the bizarre coincidence strike rate where she and Brandon were concerned and waited tensely to hear him out.
‘I’ve decided to take you out to a late lunch,’ he offered with a grin. ‘I was at Luz’s place when Freddy blew in like a tornado and said she felt bad about standing you up because she hates art. While I, on the other hand, love Renaissance painting, and you can’t get much better than our old friend Raffaello here – absolute prodigy, dead at thirty-seven from too much hard living – so I begged her to give me her ticket and came in search of you. Two birds with one stone. How perfect.’
Brandon’s charming confession had an instantly calming effect on Janey, who wondered dazedly whether it might be possible that Brandon truly had a thing for her. The thought was astonishing, but heart-warming, all at the same time.
‘Have you seen everything?’ Brandon continued, tucking one of Janey’s hands through the crook of his elbow as he steered her through the slow-moving crowd of tourists. She nodded happily, ‘My favourite has to be La donna velata.’
Brandon grinned. ‘Woman with a veil, one of Raffaello’s supreme achievements. It is rather astonishing. It’s on loan from the Palazzo Pitti in Florence.’
‘It seems to, I don’t know, glow. Like the surface is, um, illuminated. But what would I know? I’m no art critic.’ Janey hoped she didn’t sound lame.
‘I like his more bloodthirsty creations myself,’ Brandon responded confidently. ‘Which is why we’re blowing this joint now. Too many portraits. Let’s grab something at the Hotel Hassler’s rooftop restaurant – the Imàgo.’ Janey wondered if those places should mean anything to her.
‘My father practically runs his business from there, the food’s so superb! And don’t get me started on the view. It’s only a short walk. If it’s good enough for TomKat, well, it’s good enough for us, huh? We deserve it after our morning of artistic edification.’
Janey’s brow cleared and she accepted happily, hoping that she had enough in her wallet to get past ordering an entrée. They strolled through an area of the Villa Borghese gardens that Janey hadn’t been through before, chancing almost magically upon the Hotel Hassler, situated at one of the park’s edges. It was an amber-coloured building at the top of the Spanish Steps near the Trinità dei Monti church. As the liveried doorman swung wide the glass entry doors and they entered the marbled and mirrored reception area, Brandon finished listing the unbelievable roster of celebrities who’d stayed or dined there. ‘Audrey Hepburn, Princess Diana, the Kennedys, Suri Cruise . . .’ as Janey listened with starry eyes. ‘And now you,’ he added suavely.
‘And now me,’ Janey replied, a little breathless from the walk, the heat, and maybe the company. Brandon was beginning to grow on her, she thought. Just a little. He was a bit too confident and a shocking name-dropper, but if you looked like he did and were stinking rich to boot, there was probably good reason!
‘It only gets better,’ said Brandon, as they entered the restaurant and looked out on the panorama of Rome’s rooftops and spires. Janey thought it had to be one of the most romantic restaurants she had ever seen. The view – not to mention the ambience of acres of dark wood, velvet, crystal and Venetian glass – was staggering.
She looked down on the Piazza di Spagna as the discreet waiter in white tie led them to a table next to one of the towering windows. ‘It looks so different from up here,’ she said dreamily, recalling how Brandon had found her, near tears, in that very square the other day.
They enjoyed a lunch of tagliatelle with truffle sauce, and as they ate, Janey and Brandon found themselves in violent agreement – from books they’d read and movies they’d seen, to places they wanted to visit one day.
‘Definitely Patagonia,’ said Janey after they’d both agreed that India and Bhutan were definitely in their top five, and Brandon had finished describing his recent trek with six close friends to the Inca city of Machu Picchu.
‘Bruce Chatwin,’ Brandon replied with instant recognition. ‘His In Patagonia made me want to drop everything and go there too! I so agree. Slap Patagonia into the top five as well.’
If he isn’t perfect, he’s damn well close, Janey thought with a smile as Brandon toasted her with a glass of lemon, lime and bitters and summoned the waiter for the dessert menu.
Janey excused herself after they ordered their coffees. ‘I won’t be long,’ she said as their waiter discreetly indicated the direction of the restaurant’s bathroom.
‘It will still feel like an eternity,’ Brandon grinned rakishly. ‘Hurry back now!’
As she returned to the table, Janey’s step slowed as she caught the sound of Brandon’s mobile ringtone. Of course, it had to be the ultra-slick ‘What Goes Around . . . Comes Around’ by Justin Timberlake! Brandon was an all-round classy guy, Janey smiled to herself.
But as she got closer to the back of his seat, he sounded like he was in the middle of a heated argument with another . . . girl!
‘Look, bella mia,’ he hissed, not realising Janey was standing just behind him, ‘it’s kind of tricky at the moment. I’m in the middle of something. No can do, babe.’
Janey sucked in a deep breath as she hovered behind Brandon’s chair. Did he have a girlfriend? she wondered, suddenly stricken. She was pretty new to all this stuff and didn’t know if having unseen competition was well . . . normal with a guy like Brandon.
‘You know you’re always my first priority,’ Brandon added softly into the phone. ‘You’re my number one, remember?’
Janey flushed. She waited until he snapped his phone shut before striding noisily up to the table, so that he turned.
‘Who was
that?’ Janey asked brightly, as if she hadn’t been listening in on him for the last couple of minutes.
Brandon shrugged distantly. ‘My mom.’
‘Look,’ he added, clearly uncomfortable, ‘do you mind if we cancel the coffees? I’ve suddenly remembered something I had to do. We ’ll do this again, yeah? It’s been a blast.’
Janey nodded unhappily as Brandon signalled for the bill, paying for the coffees they’d never received and the desserts they hadn’t had a chance to finish, because cost meant nothing to somebody like him.
They were silent as they rode the lift down together. It was as though the Brandon she’d only just been joking and laughing with had been replaced by a pale imitation. Something was definitely bothering him.
‘Have fun shopping!’ he muttered distractedly after Janey murmured that she might hit the stores on the nearby Via del Corso and pick up some Alessi gadgets for her friends, having noticed how inexpensive they were in Rome. She’d been hoping he would join her, but after they left the hotel he turned and strode back in the direction of the Borghese Gardens.
Janey drifted down the Spanish Steps towards the Piazza di Spagna, wondering what had just happened.
She was surprised to feel so shattered, because she hadn’t expected to get hooked on Brandon’s company so quickly. She had thought that he was genuinely interested in her, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure. Especially if he was running some kind of harem behind her back!
Loaded with quirky giftware for her closest mates, Janey returned to the apartment in the early evening. Surprisingly, Freddy was home, flicking through some back issues of Italian Vogue in the apartment’s living room.
‘Hey,’ said Freddy in a friendly tone, looking up as Janey trailed past with her shopping bags.
‘Hey yourself,’ Janey replied, but she kept walking, too puzzled about Brandon’s weird behaviour to want to talk about it with Freddy, should she ask whether he’d caught up with her at the exhibition.