by Liz Harris
‘But getting a girl this week would have been no more than a bonus, wouldn’t it? That wasn’t the reason you came on the course – or at least, I’d be very surprised if it were. You weren’t to know that you’d meet someone like Clare. If you wanted to find yourself a girlfriend, internet dating would have been a much safer bet, and probably a lot less expensive.’
He smiled at her. ‘You’re right. I didn’t come looking for love.’
‘So why did you decide to do the course, Nick? If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re not the sort of person I would have expected to choose to spend his holiday learning how to use watercolour.’
‘I don’t mind you saying so at all – in fact, I consider it a compliment.’ He grinned at her. ‘Sorry and all that, but it is. First of all, it’s not my proper holiday – I’m going with my mates to Cyprus in August. This week’s just an extra. I had some holiday to use up, saw the ad for the classes, and signed up on a whim.’
‘Do you have a secret longing to be an artist, then?’
‘It’s even cornier than that. You know my surname’s Williams. Well, my mum’s nuts about the watercolours done by that Welsh chap, Kyffin Williams. No relation. Mum’s going to be fifty soon, so I thought I’d do her a watercolour as a birthday present. It’ll be a watercolour from a different Williams.’
‘That’s a really lovely idea, Nick.’
He exaggerated an affronted expression. ‘You don’t have to sound so surprised.’
She laughed. ‘I’m sorry. And have you enjoyed the week so far, apart from the Clare bit? You can be honest. Every bit of feedback is helpful.’
‘Funnily enough, I have enjoyed it on the whole. But I wouldn’t go on another course like this again – it’s not really me. By the end of the week, though, I’ll have a present for Mum, and I’ll have done something different. Yeah, I guess it’s been all right.’ The sound of approaching voices came from within the house. ‘Don’t tell anyone why I came on the course, will you?’ he added quickly. ‘I’d lose all credibility.’
‘Of course, I won’t. Your terrible secret’s safe with me,’ she said, glancing towards the patio doors. ‘We’re about to be joined by the honeymoon couple, I suspect.’
‘Now they’re something else,’ he said. ‘I can’t see how Howard can put up with that ghastly woman. She always seems to be playing a part, and what’s more, playing it badly. I don’t know about love being blind, but it’s certainly deaf in Howard’s case.’
‘Shush, Nick.’ She smiled up at Paula and Howard as they came up to the table. ‘Hello, you two.’
Nick stood up. ‘I’m on drinks duty this evening. Take a seat and I’ll get you your poison.’
‘Ooh, thank you, Nick; that’s very sweet of you.’ Paula sat down next to Jenny. ‘Wasn’t it a simply lovely day today?’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
‘Oh, I did.’
‘We both did,’ Howard called as he strolled over to the display of watercolours and began to look at them.
A few minutes later, Nick returned with the drinks. He gave one to Paula, took the other over to Howard, and then sat down opposite Jenny and Paula. ‘So what did you get up to in Assisi, Paula? I didn’t see you and Howard at all today, and it’s not that big a town.’
‘We’ve been to Assisi once before,’ Howard said, leaving the paintings and coming to sit next to Paula. He put his arm around her. ‘We’d just got engaged the last time. We weren’t there for long, but it was long enough to do all the touristy things, like see the Church of St Francis. So today we did the not-so-touristy things.’
‘Such as?’ Nick asked.
‘Mainly wandering through the narrow medieval streets at the top end of town. There aren’t as many tourists up there. We photographed all the places we thought would make good pictures, pottered around for a bit, and finally ended up in the main piazza and had coffee. Oh, and Paula bought one or two things.’
‘I didn’t realise you’d been to Umbria before,’ Jenny said in surprise. ‘How long were you here?’
‘Not long; less than a week,’ Paula replied. ‘We were on a whirlwind coach tour of the highlights of Tuscany and Umbria. It was only a short tour, but it was absolutely wonderful.’
Howard nodded his agreement. ‘We liked what we saw of Assisi – they did a brilliant job of restoring it after the earthquake. In fact, we thought the whole area beautiful, and marked it down as a place worth spending some time in. And then we saw the art course advertised, and Bob’s your uncle.’
‘It’s certainly an unusual sort of honeymoon – not coming to Umbria, but going on a course like this.’ Nick fetched another bottle of Prosecco from the side table and topped up all of their glasses.
‘We like being active, don’t we, Howie? It’s boring doing nothing. We’ve got friends who’ve honeymooned in places like the Bahamas, but that’s not for us. This is much more fun, and when we get back to England, we’ll be able to show our friends not only the photos we took, but also the watercolours we’ve done.’
‘Riveting stuff,’ Nick muttered under his breath. Jenny sent him a warning frown. He winked at her and returned the bottle of wine to the ice.
‘Are you flying back to England at the end of the week or are you going on to somewhere else first?’ Jenny asked, turning back to Paula and Howard.
‘We’ve got a flight booked for a week on Saturday,’ Howard told her. ‘We’re going to hire a car for a week and drive from here to the area around Arezzo. When we come across an interesting-looking place, we’ll find an agritourismo and stay the night.’
‘Which is why we’re travelling light,’ Paula said. ‘Mind you, it was difficult getting everything into one case. Howie was very strict with me,’ she added with a giggle. ‘But we need to be able to fit everything into the boot of the car so we don’t leave anything on show. Not that I need any more than that – not when I have my Howie with me.’ She gazed adoringly at her husband.
‘So that’s why you were talking to the car hire man, the one from the place next to the internet café,’ Nick said.
Howard’s hand slipped from Paula’s shoulder. He straightened up. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Clare saw you talking to him when we were in Montefalco on Sunday.’
Paula leaned closer to Howard and nestled up to him. ‘Yes,’ she trilled. ‘But he charges too much. We’re making other arrangements. That’s one of the reasons why we’d like to use the internet.’
‘How come you were able to understand the man?’ Nick asked. ‘I didn’t think he spoke English.’
‘Don’t you believe it. Most people in a business like that speak a bit of English,’ Howard said with a laugh, ‘but some like to pretend they don’t. They get sick of tourists coming to Italy and expecting everyone to speak their language; and I don’t blame them, to be honest. I know that Paula and I are among the worst offenders, but we’re definitely going to make a start on learning Italian before we come again.’ He looked towards the house. ‘The others are taking their time. I suppose we could …’
‘Here we are,’ Clare called cheerfully, appearing round the side of the house with Stephen at her side.
‘Where did you come from?’ Howard asked.
‘Stephen wanted me to see Max’s house.’ Clare beamed. ‘We had a cup of tea with Max on the loggia, and then Stephen and I went for a short walk around the garden. It’s really lovely there.’
Howard and Paula exchanged glances.
‘Your uncle said we could use the internet, Stephen,’ Howard began. ‘He said that at dinner the other evening.’
‘And that we could take a peek at his paintings at the same time. Not the ones he did himself,’ Paula giggled, ‘but the ones he’s got on his walls. Do you think it’d be all right if we popped across now?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘There’s still plenty of time before dinner. We wouldn’t be long.’
Stephen looked worried. ‘Now’s not really a very good time. When we we
nt off for our walk, Uncle Max went for a shower, and then he was going to come over and join us. I think he’ll be here pretty soon. Why don’t you wait till he gets here, and then ask him if you can go across tomorrow?’
‘What’s this about tomorrow?’ Max asked, coming up behind Stephen and Clare.
Nick’s remark about the way she and Max kept staring at each other jumped into Jenny’s mind. Her eyes involuntarily flew to Max’s face, and she blushed. She hastily bent down to adjust her sandal, hoping that no one would notice.
‘I didn’t realise you were only just behind us,’ Stephen told Max. ‘You should have called out and we would’ve waited for you.’
‘You didn’t exactly look as if you were anxious for company,’ Max replied. He glanced at Stephen and Clare in amusement.
Howard half rose from his chair. ‘I was asking Stephen about the internet, Max. Paula and I were wondering if we could check our e-mails tomorrow morning, and perhaps use the internet for one or two things after that.’
‘And maybe have a little look at your paintings at the same time,’ Paula added. She gave Max a coy smile.
‘Pass the sick bucket,’ Nick muttered into his drink.
‘I don’t see why not, providing that it fits in with the plans for tomorrow. What are tomorrow’s plans, Jenny?’
‘I’ve moved the optional visit to the vineyard from tomorrow afternoon to Friday. We did a lot of travelling today and I thought we should have a rest tomorrow. The plan’s to stay here and put together the sketches and ideas we’ve been working on. Then we’re going to talk about how we could use them as the basis for a larger, more ambitious project. As far as tomorrow evening goes, I’ve booked dinner at a restaurant in Montefalco. Carlo’s going to drive us there.’
Max smiled. ‘It sounds the perfect day.’
‘Does that mean that you’re joining us tomorrow?’ she asked with a smile.
‘It does indeed. By staying at home today, I’ve been able to catch up with everything urgent, and I can give myself a break tomorrow.’ He turned to Howard. ‘Why don’t you and Paula come across straight after breakfast? Use the computer and then have a look at my pictures. I’m sure it won’t take long.’
‘That’s so kind of you, Max; isn’t it, Howie?’ Paula sighed.
‘Paula’s right, it’s very sporting of you, Max. We both—’ Howard’s words were drowned by a loud crash.
They all turned sharply. George was standing at the edge of the terrace, staring helplessly down at the two framed pictures he’d knocked over.
‘Oh, dear me,’ he said. ‘I do apologise – so very careless of me.’ Stephen rushed forward and picked up the paintings. ‘Thank you, dear boy. So kind. How clumsy of me.’ He looked apologetically at them. ‘I’m afraid that once again, I’m guilty of sleeping for too long.’
Jenny got up, went over to him, put her hand gently under his elbow and led him to the table. ‘There’s no such thing as sleeping too long, George. If you’re tired, you need to rest. It’s as simple as that. We’ve walked a long way today, and it’s hardly surprising that you’re exhausted. I know I am.’
She helped him into his chair.
‘How kind you are, Jennifer. Thank you.’
Nick put a drink on the table in front of him. ‘That’ll get you going again,’ he said cheerfully.
‘Thank you, Nicholas.’
‘Did you like what you saw of Assisi, George?’ Max asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to him.
‘I did, indeed. It’s a truly beautiful town. I must confess, though, that the hills make it difficult for someone like me with old bones to get around. I did, however, manage the short walk down to the Basilica of San Francesco, steep though it was.’
‘That’s quite a walk,’ Max said. ‘Even on a cool day.’
‘I was keen to look at the church’s architecture, but there was a service about to start, so I decided not to go in until afterwards. Instead, I sat in the sun and watched what was going on. The courtyard was a sight to behold. Hundreds of priests in white robes and red caps were milling around in front of the church, and then they started filing into the church in pairs, singing as they went. What with the sun shining brightly, the bells chiming and the priests chanting, it was all highly evocative.’
‘I wish I’d seen it,’ Clare exclaimed.
‘Indeed, it was quite moving, Clare. I watched until the very last priest had gone inside, and then I went to find some lunch. By the time I’d finished the lightest gnocchi I’d ever tasted, followed by goose breasts sliced as finely as prosciutto, and enjoyed a crisp white Orvieto, I’m afraid that I’d rather forgotten about the church’s architecture, and I made my way back to the piazza.’
He smiled ruefully around the table.
‘It sounds as if you’ve had a very exciting day, Mr Rayburn. Now I wish we’d gone to see the church again,’ Howard remarked.
‘It does sound an interesting experience,’ Jenny said. ‘What a shame I missed it. Ah, here’s Maria. It looks as if our meal is on the way. I hope you’ve left some room for your dinner, George. We’ll need all our creative skills tomorrow, and a good meal tonight will help.’
She included Max in the wide smile she gave the small group. He smiled back at her.
Nick’s words sprang again to the fore of her mind, and she quickly went to the end of the table furthest away from Max.
With the meal finished and the group on the way to their beds, Jenny stared along the deserted table at Max, who showed no inclination to move.
‘I’m not surprised that they’ve all turned in so early this evening,’ she said, playing nervously with her empty glass. ‘I think we’re all pretty much worn out after our day in Assisi.’
‘Well, if you’re tired, you certainly don’t look it,’ he said, and he got up and came and sat next to her. She inhaled the smell of him, the muskiness of his pine aftershave, the heat of his skin, and she shivered.
‘I missed you today, Jenny,’ he said softly. ‘All day long, I kept wondering what you were doing.’
She tried to laugh. ‘You knew what we’d be doing – you’ve got the programme for the week and you’ve got the breakdown for today.’
‘So I have. Silly me.’ He gave her a slow, lazy smile.
A frisson of excitement ran through her, curling her toes.
She knew that she ought to get up and go to bed. To be alone with Max on a balmy evening in a spotlit garden, the air filled with the heady fragrance of the fading day; just the two of them alone beneath the glittering stars and the fairy lights that twinkled in the leaves above, it was asking for trouble. It would be oh, so easy to lose her focus, to forget the past and give in to the longing that was surging through her. Much too easy.
But she mustn’t; she couldn’t. Not even if she wanted to, and she didn’t; she really didn’t.
It was just that him being so close to her made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. She hated the fact that she was aching for him; that she was longing for him to put his arms around her and pull her close to him; that she was yearning to slide her hand beneath his shirt and run her fingers across the lean muscle of his chest. Hated the fact that she felt weak with desire at the thought of his body hard against hers, of his touch
on …
She shouldn’t want that. Not with him. Not with the man who helped to destroy her father. She could never lose her heart to someone who’d done what he’d done. What would that make her?
And how could she even think about taking advantage of his feelings for her, knowing that he liked her? What sort of person did that?
But she had to be that sort of person. She had no choice: it was the reason she’d come to Italy; it was what she had to do.
But not that evening. Not after a long day in Assisi, when she wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to keep her distance. She’d do what she had to the following day. She’d need a clear mind if she was going to find out anything, and her mind was far from clear at
that moment.
He moved closer.
She couldn’t breathe.
She jumped up and stepped back from the table. ‘To be honest, I feel shattered. I’ll see you tomorrow, Max.’ She paused a moment. ‘I’m very much looking forward to it,’ she added. She forced a smiled to her lips that promised much, then turned away fast.
But not so fast that she missed the look of pleasure that spread across his face.
Chapter Ten
Jenny jumped out of her bed, went over to the window and threw open the shutters. The air was alive with the sound of birds singing and distant dogs barking. Sunshine spilled on to the stone floor of her room, bathing her in the bright morning light. Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the narrow windowsill and stared at the view.
Framed by the window, lush green grass was bordered by a low wooden trellis around which white-petalled roses curled. Beyond the trellis, the grass stretched away to the rim of the slope, its verdant green spattered with colour from the wild flowers that grew among its blades. The steep descent of the olive trees down the slope to the plain below was marked by their feathery tips, which reached up to the clear blue sky.
It was a scene that she absolutely had to capture in watercolour before she left Umbria.
She turned round to face her room, leaned back against the window sill and stared round her in a mixture of trepidation and excitement. The previous day, she and Max had taken a step forward in their relationship: they’d moved from being merely an employer and employee, to being friends. Admittedly, it was a friendship with romantic undertones, which she hadn’t sought and didn’t want, but it had brought her closer to achieving her goal.
She had no idea how she was going to make the leap from friendly banter to a discussion about wrongdoing in the past, and that was scary. She’d have to hope that at some point Max would say something she could use to lead him back to the past. Maybe he’d make some further comments about Peter, and she could remind him of what he’d said the day before and ask him what he’d meant.