Under the Brazilian Sun

by Catherine George

  ‘Pate de sardinha. Lidia made it, so eat more.’ Roberto leaned to top up her glass. ‘You say your father left the house to you? He is dead?’

  Katherine nodded soberly. ‘Yes. My mother died when I was little. Dad brought me up single-handed and did a fantastic job of it.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Then, just after my eighteenth birthday, he had a major heart attack, which killed him.’

  ‘Que tragedia,’ he said softly. ‘You have other relatives?’

  ‘Dad’s younger sister came to live with me at the time, but eventually Charlotte met Sam Napier, the architect she’s married to now.’ Katherine smiled warmly. ‘They wanted me to make my home with them, but though I was deeply grateful to them I preferred to stay on at the house. Two of my fellow students were looking for somewhere to live so, with fantastic help from Sam, modifications were made to create three separate flats. The arrangement works so well Hugh and Alastair are still with me.’

  ‘And you do not wish to leave to join your lover,’ he remarked.

  ‘He’s just a friend,’ she said irritably, then caught her lip in her teeth.

  Roberto eyed her in wry amusement. ‘You do not offend me, Doctor. It is I who do so with my talk of a lover. But that is how this man regards himself, nao e?’

  ‘I met him only a short time ago,’ she protested.

  ‘It takes only a moment to fall in love!’

  She frowned, taken aback by the sudden descent into the personal. ‘From impartial observation I’ve noticed that it takes only a moment to fall back out again, too!’

  All talk of love was abandoned as Jorge arrived to set down a platter of succulent pork slices flanked by an array of vegetables and a side dish of sautéed potato slices.

  ‘This smells heavenly!’ Katherine said reverently.

  ‘We shall serve ourselves, Jorge,’ said Roberto, and smiled at him. ‘Thank Lidia for the batatinhas.’

  ‘What are they?’ asked Katherine as she helped herself.

  ‘The potatoes.’ He smiled. ‘They are my weakness prepared this way, but at one time I could not eat as many as I wished.’

  ‘You had to diet?’ she said, astonished. ‘That’s hard to believe.’

  ‘I had to take care with what I ate,’ he assured her. ‘Now, I do not.’

  Katherine longed to know more as she went on with her dinner. ‘I always have to watch my weight,’ she said sadly.

  ‘E verdade?’ he said, surprised. ‘Why?’

  ‘Otherwise, my clothes don’t fit. So, as a basic matter of economy, I try not to eat chocolate, and puddings, and so on.’

  Roberto leaned to refill her glass. ‘The wine will do no harm, I promise. Not,’ he added, ‘that I think the doces would harm you either, Katherine.’ He shot a look at her. ‘You allow me use of your name?’

  ‘Of course,’ she said quickly, annoyed because she felt flustered. ‘I was a bit overweight as a teenager, right up until my father died, when I found that grief was far more effective than any diet.’

  His eyes softened. ‘You were close to him.’

  ‘Yes. I even followed his career choice. He lectured in art history. He met James Massey when they were at university.’

  ‘And now you work for your father’s friend.’

  She stiffened. ‘Which is absolutely nothing to do with nepotism—’

  ‘I am sure it is not,’ Roberto assured her hastily. ‘But it would please your father to know that his daughter works in safe keeping with his old friend, I think.’

  ‘True. But I earn my salary, Senhor Sousa.’

  He sighed. ‘Now I have offended you. Perdao! It was not my intention. Agora, please eat more or Lidia will also be offended.’

  Katherine went on with her meal for a moment or two, then decided to take the plunge. ‘May I ask about your accident?’

  Roberto tensed as though about to refuse, then shrugged, his eyes bitter. ‘I was in a car crash, and fortunate to survive. But for a while it was hard to convince myself of that.’

  ‘Because you were in such pain?’

  His smile was sardonic as he refilled their glasses. ‘Also because of vanity.’

  ‘Vanity?’

  Roberto nodded. ‘My broken leg was in full length cast, I had bad concussion, black eyes, broken nose and teeth, and half my face held together with stitches. Frankenstein’s monster was prettier.’

  ‘Sounds as though you were lucky to be alive,’ said Katherine with a shiver. ‘Did you have any passengers?’

  ‘I was the passenger, Katherine. When the car swerved off the road on a bend the driver leapt clear. The car did not burst into flames as in the movies, gracas a Deus, but it suffered much damage as it crashed down a hillside into trees.’

  ‘What happened to the chauffeur?’

  His eyes hardened to obsidian. ‘The driver was a woman, Katherine. I learned later that she had only a sprained wrist, also contusoes—bruises because bushes broke her fall. She ran from the scene in panic. It was left to a passing motorist to ring for help. I knew nothing of this. I woke up in hospital, with my parents by my bed.’

  ‘What a horrible shock for them to see you so badly injured.’ Katherine’s eyes were warm with sympathy, which hardened to something else entirely at the thought of the woman who’d left Roberto to his fate. ‘And the lady driving the car?’

  ‘She rang me eventually at the hospital, begging me to say I was driving,’ he said without expression. ‘But the answer was negative because the police already knew I was not driving. It took much time to free me from the passenger seat of my car.’

  ‘Why would she ask you to do that?’

  ‘We had a disagreement over dinner, and because of it we had taken more wine than was wise, so I insisted on ringing for a taxi. But she was in a great hurry to get away and snatched my keys.’ He looked suddenly grim. ‘We were still arguing in the car because she would not fasten her seat belt.’

  ‘So she was able to jump clear and leave you to your fate.’ Katherine shook her head in disbelief. ‘After that, she actually expected you to say you were driving?’

  ‘Yes. But even if I had been fool enough to agree, I could not lie because the police knew the facts, also that Elena had spent the evening with me from the publicity shots taken on our way to dinner. When the truth came out she was fired from a television soap she was appearing in. She had a minor role as an innocent young girl desired by a married man.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘When it was known that Elena Cabral had not only been drinking but jumped from the car to leave me to my fate, the press crucified her.’

  ‘Where did this happen?’

  ‘Near Porto. There were horrific pictures of me in the press.’ His mouth twisted. ‘My parents wanted to fly me straight home, but living at the Estancia would have meant much travelling for treatment, so I preferred to remain here to recover in the Minho. My father could stay only a short time with me, but my mother left only recently.’ He smiled. ‘My parents do not like to be separated for long, so finally I insisted I was well enough for her to leave me.’

  Katherine gazed at him in silence. With an Estancia as the family home, the Quinta for holidays, and soap-actress girlfriends in the mix, Roberto de Sousa lived a very different life from hers—or from anyone she knew. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ she said at last. ‘I hope it wasn’t painful to talk about it.’

  ‘Not to such a sympathetic listener.’ He smiled suddenly, the effect like a light going on in a darkened room. He looked up as Jorge appeared to clear away. ‘Tell Lidia the meal was gostoso, as usual.’

  Katherine nodded in fervent agreement and the man smiled, pleased.

  ‘You would like dessert, Doutora?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ she said with regret. ‘Could I have some tea, please?’

  ‘Pois e! I will also bring café for the Patrao.’

  Roberto smiled wryly as the man left. ‘I must take the back seat with Jorge now you are here, Katherine.’

  She laughed. ‘I don’t th
ink so. Both Jorge and Lidia obviously think the world of you.’

  ‘My mother told them to take good care of me—and they do.’ He sighed. ‘Lidia feeds me well, and Jorge is a slave driver when I exercise, also he will drive me to Viana do Castelo tomorrow for a check-up with a doctor and session with the physio. I prefer to drive myself but for hospital visits Jorge insists he does,’ he added loudly as the man came back with a tray.

  Jorge smiled. ‘Dona Teresa mandou,’ he said simply.

  ‘He said my mother ordered him to do it, so nothing I say will make any difference,’ said Roberto, resigned.

  ‘Thank you.’ Katherine smiled warmly at Jorge as he set the tray in front of her.

  ‘De nada, Doutora. Boa noite.’

  ‘So, Katherine,’ said Roberto when they were alone, ‘will you solve our mystery tomorrow?’

  ‘I certainly hope so, or you’ll have spent a lot of money for nothing in getting me here!’

  ‘And will pay more for you to stay longer!’ He rolled his eyes. ‘That does not sound good, I think. You must make allowances for my English.’

  She shook her head. ‘You speak it very well. So do Lidia and Jorge to a lesser extent, though with much stronger accents than yours.’

  ‘We sound different because I am Brazilian and I was taught at school. Also I have travelled much. They are Portuguese and have not, but they have learned some basic English to deal with visitors to the Quinta das Montanhas. It is rented out for holidays for part of the year—the reason why I built the pool and the tennis court,’ Roberto added.

  Katherine stared at him in astonishment. ‘You can actually bear to let the general public use your home?’

  ‘When I am not here, yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I am a practical man, Katherine. People pay very well to stay here, and it provides work for my empregados and money for the maintenance of the house. But not so many visitors are booked this season because I stay at the Quinta myself.’

  ‘Does Lidia cook for the guests?’

  ‘I do not allow this. Breakfast only is provided. There are good restaurants in the area.’ His jaw clenched. ‘For obvious reasons, I do not patronise them.’

  ‘I’m not surprised with someone like Lidia to cook for you!’

  He smiled crookedly. ‘You do not allow me self-pity.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ she said briskly. ‘You could so easily have been killed in the accident, yet here you are in this beautiful place, waited on hand and foot.’

  ‘E verdade,’ he mocked. ‘I lack nothing—except company.’

  She eyed him warily. ‘Surely you could have help with that?’

  He shook his head. ‘Until now, I felt no lack. I did not realise how lonely I had been until I gained the privilege of your company.’

  Katherine’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Do not misunderstand,’ he said swiftly. ‘I am trying to say—very badly—that I would not be human if I did not enjoy the company of a woman who is expert in the subject which interests me most. Who is a most attractive woman,’ he added. ‘You cannot deny this, Katherine.’

  ‘I’m passable,’ she admitted warily.

  ‘But you restrain that beautiful hair and wear severe clothes as disguise.’ The dark eyes fastened on hers with intent. ‘Have no fear. I expect nothing more than your expertise and your conversation, Katherine.’

  ‘I know that, Senhor Sousa!’ she retorted, furious that he imagined she’d thought otherwise.

  ‘Now I have angered you again,’ he said, resigned.

  Katherine pulled herself together, and returned to safe common ground. ‘Reverting to the subject that interests you so much, I find something very familiar about your young gentleman.’

  Roberto’s eyes lit up. ‘You have seen him before?’

  ‘I must have. I certainly know him from somewhere.’ She sighed in frustration. ‘If James were here he’d probably take one look and instantly tell you the identity of both the subject and the artist, and when and where it was painted.’

  He chuckled. ‘I am sure Senhor Massey is a most interesting man, but I cannot be sorry that he sent you to me instead, Katherine. Tell me,’ he went on, with an abrupt change of subject, ‘does this friend of yours ring you every night?’

  She blinked. ‘No. No, he doesn’t. Andrew’s not very happy with me right now. I cancelled a night at the opera with him at Glyndebourne so I could help James out by coming here to look at your painting.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘He feels I let him down.’

  Roberto frowned. ‘He is a fool, this man.’

  ‘I’m beginning to agree,’ she sighed. ‘He’s charming and good company, but he got hugely stroppy when I insisted that helping James out was far more important than a trip to the opera.’

  ‘Stroppy is angry?’

  ‘Yes, but in a childish way. Most unappealing,’ she added, eyes kindling.

  ‘So you will not marry him, then.’

  ‘Good heavens, no!’ Katherine stared at him, astonished. ‘I’ve never had the least intention of that. Neither has Andrew. My insistence on running my own life would be far too big a problem for him, for a start. And because most men are like him, I don’t see marriage in my future at all.’

  Roberto nodded morosely. ‘Marriage is difficult enough when both partners want the same things. When they do not it is disaster. My wife begged me to give up my way of life for her. When I refused she left me.’

  ‘She didn’t like living at your ranch?’

  ‘No.’ His eyes shuttered. ‘Katherine, will you have a little cognac for a nightcap?’

  She shook her head, and refilled her teacup. ‘No, thanks. I’ll just drink this tea, then I’m off to bed. Shall I give you more coffee, or would it keep you awake?’

  ‘I am not good at sleeping, whether I drink coffee or not.’ His mouth turned down. ‘And that is fact, not self-pity, Doutora Lister.’

  She frowned as she poured. ‘Does your leg keep you awake?’

  He nodded. ‘But it is improving. When I first came here I relied on the muletas.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Supports—crutches, yes? Later, I walked with two sticks, now I need only one. Soon,’ he said with confidence, ‘I shall walk unaided.’

  ‘Amen to that,’ said Katherine gravely, and got up. ‘Goodnight, then.’

  He rose to his feet with effort he ignored. ‘Boa noite, Katherine. Dorme bem.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  A HARD, exciting day’s work, followed by dinner with a host who was no longer so hostile, resulted in such a good night’s sleep Katherine woke next morning to find her breakfast had arrived.

  Pascoa smiled apologetically as she deposited the tray. ‘Bom dia, Senhora. I wake you?’

  ‘A good thing you did,’ Katherine said ruefully, looking at her watch. ‘I’m late.’

  The girl pulled out a chair. ‘Enjoy,’ she said shyly.

  ‘I shall. Obrigada, Pascoa.’

  While Katherine was eating the limousine come into view below her windows and went gliding down the drive. Roberto, it seemed, was already on his way. She felt a pang of sympathy as she pictured the day in front of him. He might not even be up to dining with her tonight, which would be a shame. If her work went really well today, there might not be any other tête-à-tête suppers before she left. Which, for obvious reasons, was probably just as well.

  ‘Senhor Roberto say not work too hard,’ said Lidia firmly when she came to collect the tray. She smiled. ‘But you will, nao?’

  ‘Probably,’ admitted Katherine, smiling.

  ‘He left painting on varanda.’

  ‘Obrigada, Lidia.’

  ‘De nada.’

  Later, Katherine frowned at the face in the portrait as she laid the painting on the blanket. ‘Where have I seen you before?’ She gathered her tools and settled down to work, her excitement mounting as she gradually revealed folds in the man’s coat. She let out a whistle when she removed the overpaint from the cravat and discovered not only a more modest neck cloth, but a series of s
mall rips, roughly sealed with filler. Confident that James’ favourite restorer would deal with those, Katherine carried on undeterred, eager to get to the face. Lidia brought her back to earth with a jolt a few minutes later when she arrived with a coffee tray.

  ‘Rest now, Doutora,’ she said firmly.

  Katherine stretched, feeling guilty when she looked at her watch. ‘Is that the time already?’

  Lidia smiled as she poured coffee. ‘You love your work.’

  ‘I do indeed.’ She drank gratefully. ‘Wonderful. I needed that.’

  ‘Lunch numa hora,’ said the woman, holding up one finger.

  A phone call from Andrew interrupted Katherine soon afterwards.

  ‘Hi,’ she said briefly.

  ‘Ah, the elusive Dr Lister herself,’ he said with sarcasm. ‘You’ve actually deigned to answer your phone.’

  ‘I had forgotten to turn it on—sorry.’

  ‘So you should be. I was worried, woman!’

  Woman? ‘Absolutely no need, Andrew. I’m just caught up in the work I’m doing here.’

  ‘Revealing a lost Rembrandt to the world, I suppose!’

  Her eyes flashed coldly at the sneer in his voice. ‘No. Not a Rembrandt—but something very interesting, just the same, both to me and the client. Look, I’m at a rather tricky stage right now.’

  ‘Ring me later then.’

  ‘All right. Half seven?’

  ‘Fine. I’ll make a point of hanging on before going out tonight.’

  Later, Katherine was so eager to start on the painted face she swallowed most of her salad lunch without tasting it. She worked with mounting anticipation, and felt a warm tide of relief flood through her as she identified unmistakable brush strokes. Lighter tones began to appear in the dark hair clubbed back from the face, and at last she gave a crow of pure triumph as a signature flash of light on a stray hair provided the last piece of the puzzle.

  ‘Well?’ she demanded, when James rang in response to her update.

  ‘One of his minor early works, of course,’ he said jubilantly, ‘but even without seeing it in the flesh, I’m sure it’s Gainsborough.’