The Art of Deception (Choc Lit)

by Liz Harris

  ‘She’ll see them for what they are – an expression of your love,’ she’d said gently. ‘I’m so glad you decided to make the trip, Mr Rayburn.’

  He nodded. ‘So am I, Jennifer. I feel that this will bring closure to the sadness of recent months. But not to the happy memories – I shall always have those.’

  Closure. George was not the only person on the course who was looking for closure, she thought, moving away. Hopefully, their time in Italy would achieve what both she and George wanted it to – no, what they both needed it to.

  She’d started to look for Clare, but had suddenly realised that it was time for lunch.

  She finished her coffee and stood up. They had had long enough to settle back into their work. She’d start with Clare, and that would probably be the quickest way of also finding Stephen and Nick.

  Poor Clare. On the one hand, it was flattering to have two men interested in her; on the other, it could become quite tiresome, and this was pretty much what Clare had told her that morning. But the more she got to know Clare, the more confident she was that she would sort things out without causing too much pain for anyone.

  She started to cross the terrace and make her way to the spot where she thought she’d find Clare. Yes, she’d do the trio next, and she’d save Max till last.

  ‘So why did you decide to come on this course, Clare?’ Jenny heard Max say as she rounded the corner of the house.

  So much for leaving Max till last, she thought as she caught sight of his broad shoulders in front of her. He was sitting on his painting stool, his back to her, and looked as if he was studying his work. Clare was a little way along, parallel to him.

  Jenny paused, and then moved into the shadow of a mulberry tree. Standing still, she watched him.

  He changed his position, looking at his work from a different angle. A hint of muscle rippled beneath his thin shirt. His tanned forearms gleamed in the light of the sun, and with every movement of his head, streaks of gold played in his hair. She caught her breath – he really was something – and she found herself smiling with pleasure at the sight of him.

  ‘Are you asking me that because you can see how pathetic my work is?’ Clare asked him, giggling.

  Jenny pulled herself sharply together. She stepped further into the shade and glanced across at Clare.

  ‘Not at all, and I’m sure they’re not.’ There was laughter in Max’s voice as he got up and went over to Clare. Standing behind her, he looked first at the view she was painting, then back again at her picture.

  ‘On the other hand …’ They both laughed, and Max returned to his stool.

  ‘My turn now.’ Clare stood up and went across to have a look at his picture. ‘Mmm. I see what you mean,’ she said with mock gravity. ‘It certainly helps to be able to see the view you’re painting for real.’ Smiling broadly, she returned to her work, sat down again and stared at her drawing. ‘You’re right,’ she said with a loud sigh. ‘It’s rubbish. Even I can see that.’

  ‘Jenny can say what she likes about everyone being able to learn, but I’ve yet to be convinced.’ Max sounded amused, not critical of her, she noted with relief. Her cue to move forward.

  ‘Did I hear someone say Jenny?’ she asked, going up to them.

  Max looked round at her. A warm glow stole through her at the unmistakable pleasure in his eyes.

  ‘You did, indeed,’ he said with a lazy grin. ‘I was telling Clare that my feeble scratchings are proving that not everyone can be taught to paint.’ He gestured to his picture. ‘There’s the proof. And I’ll be amazed if there’s any improvement between now and the end of the week.’

  A bolt of excitement shot through her.

  ‘Are you coming to all of the classes, then?’ she asked, keeping her voice as steady as she could. Extra time like this would be an unexpected bonus.

  He sighed theatrically. ‘I doubt if I’ll be allowed to. I fully expect to be flunked as soon as you see today’s offering.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘You should see my pathetic attempts, too, Jenny,’ Clare called to her. ‘I wish I could draw like you, but it’s just not gonna happen.’

  Jenny moved across to Clare and looked down at her work.

  ‘I know you won’t believe me, Clare,’ she said after a moment or two, ‘but your work shows promise, and I’m confident you’ll see a marked improvement by the end of the week.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Clare said dubiously.

  ‘You were telling me why you came on the course, Clare?’ Max said, swivelling around. ‘I know I shouldn’t be distracting you from your masterpiece, and certainly not when Jenny’s looking at it, but I’m really curious as to why you – and all the others, too – have chosen to come here. Don’t mistake me – I’m glad you did – but why?’

  ‘A moment of madness in my case, I guess. I’m training to be a nurse, and the government gives us a bursary every year. It’s not a lot of money, but it means I’m not totally broke. My mates decided to go to Corfu, but can you see me on a beach all day with this hair?’ She pointed to her red curls.

  ‘Not very easily, I must admit.’

  ‘And anyway, a beach holiday would be dead boring, so I decided to do something totally different. I didn’t want to do anything practical as I do practical things all day long, and when I saw your ad, I thought to myself, that’s it, I’ll do something creative. It’ll be fun.’

  ‘And are you finding it fun?’ Jenny asked.

  ‘Actually, I am. I’m really enjoying it.’

  Jenny laughed. ‘I guess that was a silly question – you’d say that anyway. But I hope you mean it.’ She paused. ‘If you could change one thing about the week, what would you change?’

  Clare thought for a moment. ‘I’d have only one cool guy on the course, not two.’

  Jenny gave her a rueful smile.

  ‘I did rather notice that my nephew’s smitten,’ Max cut in. ‘And, indeed, so is Mr Williams. But since I’m sort of an interested party, and a man, I’m above prying so I won’t ask which one you prefer.’

  Clare blushed. ‘They both seem very nice in different ways.’

  ‘That’s a very good answer to the question I didn’t ask.’

  All three laughed.

  ‘Well, as you both seem OK, I won’t interrupt you any further,’ Jenny said, starting to move away. ‘I’ll see if I can find Stephen or Nick.’

  ‘Oh, there you are, Uncle Max. How are you getting on?’ Stephen’s voice came from behind her.

  ‘I was just about to look for you, Stephen,’ Jenny said, turning to him with a smile.

  ‘I thought I’d come and see how my uncle was doing. Perhaps give him a few tips.’ He sauntered over to Max’s easel and leaned over him to study his work. He glanced up at the wisteria on the corner of the house, and then stared back at the picture. ‘Missing that first lesson must be to blame,’ he said.

  Laughing, he went over to Clare. ‘That’s really good, Clare,’ he said, his voice full of admiration. ‘With your work, I don’t even have to look at the view to know what you’re painting.’

  He glanced across at Max and they grinned at each other.

  ‘You two,’ Jenny said with a smile of amusement.

  ‘I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to scrutinising your paintings this evening, Stephen,’ Max said cheerfully. ‘I’m sure I’ll have much to learn from them.’

  ‘I’m not sure I should let you see what I’ve done: the quality of my work might make you give up on the spot.’

  ‘Ah, but you’ve no choice in the matter. If you look at today’s programme, you’ll see that our work’s going to be on display before dinner. What’s more, we’re going to have more than one occasion on which to gaze in awe at what we’ve all done in the day.’

  ‘Mmm,’ Stephen said, a mock-serious expression on his face. ‘I think you should skip that part of the programme, old man. Any sudden strain could damage your health, and I dread to think w
hat might happen if you heard honest comments about your work.’

  ‘Your concern is deeply touching, but my aged bones and I will risk it. After all, we have a nurse among us.’

  ‘So we do.’ Stephen turned and beamed at Clare. ‘But if anyone’s going to need Clare to resuscitate them, I want it to be me.’

  Clare blushed.

  ‘What did you paint this afternoon, Stephen?’ Jenny asked, changing the subject. ‘In fact, why don’t we leave Max and Clare in peace and you can show me what you’ve been doing?’

  Footsteps sounded on the gravel path, and they turned their heads as Nick came into sight.

  ‘So that’s where you’ve all got to,’ he exclaimed. ‘I might have guessed.’

  ‘I’m afraid Jenny’s rather got caught up here, paralysed by the brilliance of our work,’ Max told Nick with a grin.

  ‘Huh.’ Stephen sniggered.

  ‘Come on, you two,’ Jenny said, moving across to Stephen and Nick. ‘I’d like you to show me what you’ve done.’

  As she walked past Max, she couldn’t resist glancing down at him. To her surprise, he was staring up at her. Their eyes met, and held. Her steps slowed, and stopped.

  For a long moment, the world hung in suspense and she saw only Max.

  Then abruptly she jerked her head away.

  Hurrying after Nick and Stephen, she struggled to summon the image of her father to her mind.

  ‘That was a colossal meal,’ Howard said, rubbing his stomach. ‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to get up from the table.’

  Jenny laughed. ‘Maria had something similar in mind for lunch, too. Can you imagine eating two such huge meals in one day?’ she asked, addressing the table as a whole. ‘How Italians manage to stay as slim as they do, I don’t know. Not all of them, of course, but the majority.’

  Clare sighed enviously. ‘They must have magic ways of burning off the calories. I just wish they’d share them with us Brits.’

  ‘You’re gorgeous as you are, Clare,’ Nick said. He put his arm round the back of her chair. She moved forward and he dropped his arm.

  Paula smiled vaguely in Jenny’s direction, and then turned to Max, who was next to her. ‘Howie and I were saying earlier how flattered we were that you were choosing to spend so much of your precious time with little old us.’ She tinkled a silvery laugh, took an amoretto from the bowl in the centre of the table and popped it into her mouth.

  Jenny groaned inwardly. Paula and Howard could easily bore Max into staying away, she thought in a moment of despair. Their silly twitterings were hardly the adult conversation he’d sought. She couldn’t let them monopolise him, but what on earth could she do to stop them?

  At that moment, Max glanced at her across the table and smiled. She felt herself relax a little, smiled back, and then forced herself to turn to George, who was sitting next to her.

  ‘I think there’s definitely been some progress in your use of the brush, Mr Rayburn,’ she said, trying hard at the same time to listen to Howard and Paula’s conversation with Max.

  ‘All I can say is,’ Max was telling Paula, ‘I’m enjoying myself enormously. I’m very grateful to all of you for letting me join in. Originally, I’d only intended to come over in the evenings, but I seem to have become a fixture in the day, too. It’s certainly a very different week from the one I’d’ve had if you hadn’t been here – but it’s turning into a very interesting one.’

  ‘What would you have been doing if we hadn’t been here? You don’t seem to be the sort of person who’d lie by a pool all day long and do nothing,’ Howard said, sliding his arm around the back of Paula’s chair and leaning a little closer to Max.

  ‘I’d have a swim before breakfast, and again in the afternoon, but I suppose I do that now, anyway. But you’re right, lying in the sun isn’t for me. If you weren’t here, I’d probably spend more time relaxing on the loggia –the veranda that runs around part of the house.’

  ‘It sounds heavenly,’ Paula sighed.

  ‘It is. I expect that I’d linger there, reading or looking at the view. Being on a slope means that there’s usually a gentle breeze so it’s all very pleasant. But having said that,’ he added with a laugh, ‘knowing me, the truth is I’d probably go back to my computer and work out of habit. I suspect that I’m going to have more of a rest by joining the class than I would’ve done by staying on my own.’

  ‘Your life here sounds idyllic,’ Paula sighed, ‘computer or not. Don’t you think so, Howie?’

  ‘Absolutely. I’m like you about work, Max. If I was holidaying here, I’d need a hobby to keep my mind off my job. Books are only OK for so long.’ He slipped his arm from the back of Paula’s chair to her shoulder. ‘Nope, I’d have to do something other than just read and swim.’

  ‘I couldn’t sit still and read all day any more than you could,’ Max agreed. ‘But I’m extremely lucky that I can pursue my interests in both England and Umbria: I’ve been collecting pictures in a small way over the years. It’s just a hobby, but I love it, and I’ve every intention of spending a large part of my time in Italy visiting galleries and exploring little shops in out-of-the-way places. Who knows, I might find a hitherto-undiscovered masterpiece,’ he added with a laugh.

  ‘Ooh, what fun,’ Paula declared. ‘Isn’t it, Howie?’

  ‘It certainly is. I envy you, Max.’

  ‘And galleries and museums aren’t the only places to visit. Nearly every church, no matter how small the town, has at least one painting worth seeing. In fact, I’d planned to take Stephen round some of the nearby churches this week. Funnily enough, though, just after I told him of my plan, he confessed to a burning desire to join the art class.’

  Out of the corner of her eye, Jenny saw him glance affectionately at Stephen, who was deep in conversation with Nick and Clare. Then she felt Max’s eyes come to rest on her. Struggling not to look at him, she tossed her blonde plait over her shoulder, kept her face firmly turned towards George, and made a great effort to focus on what he was saying.

  ‘Jenny seems very easy to get along with, and a good teacher, too,’ she heard Max say as he turned back to Howard and Paula.

  So he thought she was easy to get along with, did he? A glow of happiness crept through her body.

  ‘Oh, she is. She’s a lovely person. Howie and I have already learnt so much from her. But about your hobby, Max. You’re lucky to have the luxury of buying paintings – most people can’t afford much more than food and drink. It’s—’

  ‘Paula,’ Howard said sharply. He sounded distinctly annoyed, Jenny thought. She glanced at him in surprise and saw him frowning.

  Paula’s laugh was shrill. ‘I was only going to say that I’m so pleased that someone’s able to preserve all these wonderful paintings, Max.’

  Howard nodded. ‘She’s right about that.’

  ‘But we look like having a fine collection of our own to take home with us, don’t we, Howie?’ Paula added. ‘Jenny said some very kind things about our work.’

  ‘I hope you do,’ Max said with a smile. ‘It’d make the week worthwhile for you, and it’d make Jenny very happy, I’m sure.’

  His eyes returned to Jenny’s face.

  ‘Are your paintings here or in England?’ Howard asked.

  Max pulled his gaze away. ‘Mostly in England. I’ve got a few pictures here as well, but my main collection is at home. But don’t get carried away and imagine rooms full of Leonardos. It’s only a very modest collection, something I do for fun.’

  Howard picked up the bottle of dessert wine, leaned in front of Paula and divided the last of the wine between his glass and Max’s. ‘What style of art do you go for?’

  ‘I’d say I was quite eclectic – a bit of everything, but contemporary art probably predominates. Certainly, the pictures I’ve got on my walls here are contemporary. And the ones in this house, too.’

  ‘Did you bring them over from England?’ Howard asked.

  ‘That’s right. I know that these a
re fourteenth-century houses, but I felt that contemporary art would go better with the style of furniture I’ve chosen. Classical wouldn’t work as well.’

  ‘I love looking at paintings.’ Paula’s voice was tinged with wistfulness.

  ‘From what I saw this evening, you’re a pretty good artist yourself, Paula. Your work today was really impressive.’

  ‘You’re just saying that, Max,’ she simpered.

  ‘Not at all. Out of all of us, you and Howard are the only ones who seem to have a natural flair. Any flair, at all, for that matter. I reckon you could be extremely good if you wanted to. I’m sure you’d be able to sell your work.’

  ‘It’s sweet of you to say that, Max, but I’m sure I wouldn’t. Who’d want to buy anything painted by little old me?’ She giggled.

  ‘Paula was told the same thing at school,’ Howard said, glancing affectionately at his wife, his irritation clearly gone. ‘But it’s a difficult business to succeed in and she’s never attempted to make it her career. It’s always been a bit of a regret, which is one of the reasons why we chose this sort of week for our honeymoon. It’s a moment of luxury amid the humdrum of everyday life.’

  ‘I wondered why you’d come here and not gone somewhere like the Maldives,’ Max remarked.

  ‘Ugh.’ Howard grimaced. ‘The very thought of it. As I said before, we’d be bored stiff, doing nothing but sitting in the sun by a hotel pool. We’ve got the sun here, and a pool, but we’ve got something more, too. No, this is ideal for us.’

  Max smiled broadly at them. ‘I’m glad that it’s living up to expectations.’

  ‘Oh, it is,’ Paula said tremulously. She paused a moment, and ran her finger round the rim of her water glass. ‘Can I be very naughty?’ she asked in a little girl voice. Pouting, she glanced at Howard, and then back at Max. ‘Howie’s going to be very angry with me – he said I mustn’t ask you.’ She stopped and bit her lip.

  ‘Ask me what?’ Max prompted.