by T A Williams
Before Suzie could respond, Alex jumped up and splashed out into the sea for a little swim. When she returned to the shallows she sat down beside Suzie and looked across at her.
‘Anything special you want to do today?’
Again, Suzie was greatly cheered to be asked. ‘Nothing in particular. Whatever you feel like. I was wondering about maybe taking the boat over to the island of Burano. I’ve never been there and it’s supposed to be very picturesque. It’s the one with all the brightly painted houses. You must have seen the photos.’
Alex nodded. ‘That sounds like a great idea, although I was thinking about something a bit more mundane first, if you don’t mind. I really need to get my hair done.’ She glanced across at Suzie who had, in fact, been thinking that very same thing earlier.
‘Me too. Mine hasn’t been cut properly for God knows how long. That sounds like a good idea. Let’s do that first.’
‘By the way, I got an email from my father this morning confirming what Rafe said about James inviting us to his villa. Father absolutely insists we go.’
Suzie couldn’t help speaking out. ‘Can’t you just tell your father you don’t want to? Or that it’s not convenient? I know, maybe we could change our plans and go somewhere else first, and make Verona our final destination in the hope that James has left by then? Padua’s supposed to be lovely and that’s pretty much in the opposite direction from Verona. Or Bologna?’
Alex shook her head ruefully. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to grin and bear it. Father and Lord Witchampton are big buddies and it sounds as if it’s all been stitched up between them.’
‘Lord Witchampton?’
‘James’s father. The Witchamptons own half of Dorset.’ She gave Suzie a resigned look. ‘And the way my father’s pushing, it might end up being my future home.’
‘You’d really marry somebody you don’t love, just because your dad says so?’
‘I don’t know.’ There was exasperation in her tone. ‘To be quite honest, Suzie, I don’t dislike James. No, that’s unfair; I actually like him a lot. I’ve known him for years and we get on very well – give or take his sailing and his bloody pheasants. The thing is, I refuse to let myself get pushed into marriage like some medieval princess. It’s bloody barbaric!’ Her voice began to rise but Suzie was pleased to see her stop, hesitate and then resume in more normal tones. Definitely signs of personal development. ‘We live in the twenty-first century now and I should be the one to make that sort of decision, not my father. If my mother was still alive, I know she’d understand. It’s maybe a bit unfair on James, but they all need to know that I’m my own person, not some kind of chattel.’
Suzie looked at her with pity in her heart. So Alex liked the man, but was refusing his advances because of her father. The words ‘cut off your nose to spite your face’ came to mind, but Alex was looking so dejected, she held her tongue. Not for the first time she thanked her lucky stars that she came from a relatively ‘normal’ family.
Chapter 6
After a morning spent at an expensive salon, they emerged at lunchtime and surprised themselves to find they were hungry again after all. Back at the hotel they took up their familiar spot in the bar and ordered sandwiches once more. As Suzie ate, she couldn’t stop looking at her fingernails in wonder. After a bit of prodding from Alexandra, she had agreed to have a manicure and a pedicure, and now boasted painted nails on her fingers and toes for the first time in her life – everything, including the trim and shape to her hair, unwittingly paid for by Lord Tedburn on his daughter’s gold card. She looked over at Alexandra and saw her grinning.
‘Getting used to them, Suzie?’
Suzie shook her head. ‘It’ll take time. I keep thinking I’ve spilt something on my hands.’
‘They look great, though. Wait until your Michael sees them this evening.’
‘He’s not my Michael. I only met him a few minutes before you turned up this morning and apart from anything else, he’s married. So even if he was interested in me – which he isn’t – I wouldn’t dream of getting involved with him.’
‘Well, married or not, he seems like a nice guy, although he didn’t look a hundred percent happy. I wonder what’s troubling him…’
‘I was wondering that myself. It surely can’t be money if he’s working for this super rich client. It has to be something more personal.’
Alex gave her a cheeky grin. She was looking and sounding so much better since they had cleared the air between them. ‘Maybe he’s lovesick. You know, recently struck by Cupid’s arrow, hopelessly besotted by a mysterious English girl with a ponytail and nails that needed a manicure. He probably wants you to pose nude for him. You know what they’re like, these artists.’
Suzie found herself blushing. ‘No chance of that, Alex. More likely he’s got trouble back home, or maybe he’s just a moody artist. As you say, you know what they’re like.’
‘Art’s sort of my thing, really. I’ve painted pretty much all my life.’
Suzie blinked at this revelation. ‘What? For a living?’
Alexandra gave Suzie a very old-fashioned look. ‘You’ve got to be joking. Nobody makes a living out of painting… well, almost nobody. Maybe your Michael. No, I paint just for myself. I wanted so badly to do a degree in Fine Art, but my father wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘What was the problem?’
‘The problem was the same as it’s always been. He has absolutely no interest in my happiness.’ The smiles were now long gone and Alex’s voice was once more rising in anger. So much so that the waiter glanced across at them from the behind the bar. Suzie reached over and gave her a gentle tap on the wrist.
‘Surely not. Any father would want his daughter to be happy.’
Alex managed a weak smile and when she continued, her voice was back to normal volume. ‘Not this father. He told me art was a waste of time. He wanted me to do something “useful” for the estate, so I ended up doing Ecology and Conservation at Brighton and just scraping a pass. Don’t get me wrong. I love the animals and the plants, but I hate the science. Besides, I can’t add up to save my life.’
Suzie was genuinely amazed – partly that Alexandra was obviously so passionate about art and also that her insensitive father could have stood in the way of her dreams. Surely with all their money, it wouldn’t have hurt to let his only daughter follow her instincts and maybe find a bit of happiness? She sighed to herself as she swallowed her last piece of sandwich.
‘Have you ever had any training? Surely since doing your Ecology degree, you could have gone on to do an art course?’
Alex shook her head again. ‘Art colleges are dens of iniquity as far as Father’s concerned. He’s convinced himself I’d be led astray and would probably end up pregnant and living in squalor in an opium den or some such. He let me have some private lessons at the manor, but the tutor was a man, and father got suspicious that I was spending too much time with him and it was getting too intimate.’
‘And was it?’
Even just twenty-four hours earlier, the idea that she could ask Alex such a personal question would have been unthinkable. Now, Alex didn’t bat an eyelid. Certainly this marked considerable progress in their relationship, which had started out so precariously.
‘To be totally honest, yes, but only in my mind. The guy was obviously much too scared of my father to lay a finger on me but, if he had done, I wouldn’t have said no.’ She smiled across the table. ‘So, fair enough, in this case my father was right, but what harm would it have done?’
At that moment, Suzie looked up and was confronted with a very unwelcome sight. Standing in the doorway, scanning the faces of the guests, was none other than Alex’s erstwhile suitor, Carlo Moretti. He spotted them and a smile spread across his predatory features. Suzie turned hastily towards Alex.
‘I’m afraid we’ve got company.’
Alex looked up and Suzie saw her face flush with anger. She laid a restraining hand on Alex’s arm a
s Carlo came across to where they were sitting. Ignoring Suzie, he addressed Alex.
‘Alessandra, how wonderful to see you. I’ve been looking for you for two days now. You disappeared so suddenly the other night and I was worried.’ Without being asked, he pulled up a chair and sat down opposite them.
Suzie saw Alex raise her hand and call the waiter.
‘A glass of Prosecco for the signore.’
As the waiter went off, Suzie found herself wondering if this might, after all, indicate a rapprochement between Alex and her Italian. It wasn’t long before she found out. As the waiter returned with the glass of Prosecco, Alex took it from him and surprised all three of them by throwing the contents full into Carlo’s face.
‘Here, Carlo, this is for you. I’m sure your wife will be able to wash it out for you.’
He jumped to his feet, thoroughly soaked, an expression of shock and anger on his face. ‘What do you think you’re doing…?’
Suzie found herself smiling. Alex’s aim had been excellent and the wine had hit him square in the face and was running down his front. Even his trousers were soaked and Suzie restrained a giggle as it looked as though he had wet himself.
‘Go away, Carlo. Go back to your wife and your three daughters, and leave me alone.’
The Italian blanched. ‘How did you…? What…?’ His anger had swiftly been replaced by an expression of guilt and no little anxiety.
‘You heard me, Carlo. Just go. All right? And don’t bother me again or I’ll talk to your wife.’
By this time he was as white as a sheet – a very damp sheet. Without a word, he turned and beat a hasty retreat. As he did so, Alex looked up at the waiter, who was still rooted to the spot.
‘I do apologise for that, but I’m afraid it was necessary.’ She was sounding remarkably calm. ‘Let me know if there are any costs involved.’
A grin spread across the waiter’s face. ‘No, signorina, that’s perfectly all right. You managed to get all the wine onto that gentleman, rather than the furnishings.’ He retrieved the empty glass from her hand and straightened up again, still smiling. ‘You’re getting very good at this.’
Suzie grinned up at him. ‘Practice makes perfect.’ After he had left, she looked over at Alex with newfound respect. ‘That was brilliant, Alex. You handled that just perfectly.’
‘Horrible, cheating bastard! I should have ordered a pint and flung it at him, glass and all.’
‘No, I think that was just right – a refined response and definitely well-justified. And I’m sure that’s the last we’re going to see of Mr Moretti.’
That evening they went up to the restaurant where they were in for a surprise. On the far side, at a discreet table far away from the door, was Michael the portrait painter, and sitting opposite him was a stunningly beautiful woman with a mass of glossy black hair pinned up on her head, exposing earrings that sparkled in the light. Suzie reflected that if they were real diamonds, they must have been worth a fortune. She and Michael appeared engrossed in each other’s company and didn’t notice the two girls as they were shown to the same table by the window where they had dined with Rafe the previous night. Once seated, Alex looked across at Suzie and grimaced.
‘Michael’s wife is quite a doll, isn’t she?’
‘You can say that again.’ Suzie did her best to keep any disappointment out of her voice. Why should she feel disappointed, after all? She barely knew the man and he was married. She tried to sound blasé. ‘Of course, it might be his mistress – remember your friend Carlo. Maybe there’s something in the Italian air.’
Alex’s grimace intensified as she shuddered. ‘Good riddance to Mr Moretti. But you’re right, Venice is such a romantic place… I wonder what Verona will be like.’
Suzie was glad of the change of subject. ‘Physically not that different, apart from the water. Verona, Vicenza, Padua and Venice were all part of the Venetian Republic, so I imagine the architecture’s similarly gorgeous in all of them. As for romance, don’t forget Romeo and Juliet.’ She summoned a grin and Alex grinned back.
‘How could I forget? Although by the sound of it, the closest to romance I’m going to get is fighting off the advances of a pheasant-fancier.’
Their meal was excellent, although they limited themselves to far less than the previous night. On Suzie’s advice, they both chose fritto misto, a mixture of octopus, squid, prawns and whitebait, lightly dusted in flour and fried to perfection. Accompanied by a mixed salad and a bottle of the local, slightly fizzy white wine, this provided an excellent dinner and they both declined the offer of dessert. Instead, they decided to go out for a stroll and a coffee afterwards. As they left the restaurant, Suzie could see that Michael was still deep in conversation with his beautiful partner and didn’t see them go. Secretly, she was quite pleased not to have to make small talk with the wife of a man she rather fancied – even though she was the first to acknowledge that a relationship with a married man hadn’t been going to happen anyway.
Last night’s visit to Harry’s Bar had been a bit disappointing. Expecting somewhere luscious, stylish and decorative, they had been surprised to find themselves in a crowded bar that didn’t look dissimilar to an English pub – and a fairly plain one at that – apart from the prices which were astronomical. Consequently, tonight, as they got down to the main lobby of the hotel, Suzie went over to the porter’s desk by the door for advice. The immaculate porter in his sober grey waistcoat had no hesitation.
‘If you haven’t tried it already, you really should go to Caffè Florian. It’s close by in St Mark’s Square and it’s the oldest coffee house in Venice, if not the whole of Italy… or even the world.’ He winked. ‘Although that claim is contested.’
St Mark’s Square was busy, but not as crowded as during the daylight hours, and they easily made their way across to the arches on the far side and found the cafe. Inside, it was stunning. The tables were marble, the seats covered in red velvet and the walls a delightful mixture of gold leaf, murals and mirrors. It was very busy, but they managed to find a table, ordered coffees and sat back to admire the view. There were people of all nationalities in here, some in shorts, some more formally dressed, among them even a cluster of what looked like gondoliers in stripy shirts. Then, ten minutes later, a familiar face appeared and broke into a smile as he spotted them.
‘Good evening, ladies. Fancy seeing you here.’
Suzie looked up and returned his greeting, and his smile. ‘Michael, good evening.’
She kept the smile on her face as she transferred her attention to the stunningly beautiful woman at his side. The girl was probably a few years younger than her – maybe the same age as Alex – and the sleek red dress she was wearing fitted her like a glove. Her lustrous mass of black hair was piled up on her head in the sort of careless style that takes an age to achieve and costs a fortune. And the earrings and the matching diamond ring on her finger looked a million dollars. If he had bought them for her, could it be he was secretly a millionaire after all, in spite of what he had said? As she was still pondering this, Michael made the introductions.
‘Frederika, this is Suzie from England and her friend Alex. I’m sorry, I don’t know your surnames.’
Suzie was quick to respond. ‘Good evening, Frederika. I’m Suzie Cartwright and this is Lady Alexandra Tedburn.’
‘Good evening, I’m pleased to meet you.’ Frederika’s English accent was almost perfect, with only the slightest hint of what might have been German in the background. Beneath the glossy exterior, she looked like a friendly person and Suzie found herself thinking that somebody as beautiful as this was, without doubt, a far more suitable partner for a handsome and successful man like Michael than she would have been – particularly if he turned out to be a secret millionaire.
‘So how do you know each other?’ There didn’t appear to be even so much as a hint of jealousy in Frederika’s tone, so Suzie answered easily, deciding to leave out the Prosecco incident.
�
��We just met this morning on the beach. We got talking, but that’s it. I’m afraid I don’t know your surname either, Michael.’ Annoyingly, she felt her cheeks begin to burn.
‘Turner, like the artist. I told you I was a painter, didn’t I? And, before you ask, no, I’m not related to the great man, I’m afraid. I just share his surname.’
This was followed by a slightly awkward pause while Suzie found herself wondering if she should ask them to sit down at their table but then, fortunately, Michael made the decision for her.
‘Anyway, don’t let us disturb your evening. We just dropped in for a coffee after dinner. I’m glad I’ve run into you as I wanted to give you this before I leave tomorrow.’ He reached into the top pocket of his smart linen jacket and produced a business card. ‘If you run into any trouble or, indeed, if you just want a chat while you’re in Verona, these are my contact details. I’d be very happy to see you both again.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Michael.’ Alex reached over and took the card from him. ‘If all goes well, we should be there in a few days’ time. It’s good to know we’ve already got a friend in the area.’
Suzie added her thanks and he gave her a little smile before bidding them both good night and heading towards the rear of the cafe. As they disappeared from view, Alex handed the card across the table to Suzie with a grin.
‘That was nice of him, wasn’t it? And isn’t she beautiful? That was a Stella McCartney she was wearing.’ She shot a knowing look across the table. ‘And they don’t come cheap.’
Suzie had no doubts on that score. If anybody knew the price of designer clothes, it was Alex.
‘I like your Michael, Suzie. Now that’s what I call a very handsome man!’
Suzie knew she was blushing again, but there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Like I keep telling you, he’s not my Michael, Alex. He’s married, remember?’
Alex shook her head. ‘To the German girl? I don’t think so. Did you notice anything peculiar about her, by any chance?’ There was a cheeky sparkle in her eye and Suzie felt a little flash of happiness that her companion was definitely cheering up.