‘Hello? Oh, Aunt Clare. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. I was wondering how you were doing and if you wanted a chat. I’m not working tonight, if you’re free.’
My head is buzzing and Aunt Clare will take one look at me and start worrying.
‘I can’t tonight, I’m afraid. We have a rush job on and I’m working day and night. Everything is fine, though.’
‘Really? You’re not just putting me off? I know you and I can hear that little undertone of stress in your voice.’
Now I understand how Hettie feels when she says one thing, but I’m reading something else entirely and it’s so annoying you want to scream.
‘It will be nice to chat, but I’ll ring you next week when things will be calmer. We have a celebrity chef who enjoys a little drama and is giving me a major headache.’
‘Oh, as long as it’s only work-related stress and everything else is fine.’
‘It is, and thanks. Next week, I promise.’
I put the phone down, feeling miserable. My life is suddenly all about being careful what I say, and to whom. I’m not that sort of person; yes, I may not tell people everything I’m thinking and feeling all the time, but I also don’t usually lie, even little white ones like the one I told to Aunt Clare just now.
I feel horrible and I promise myself that when this is over I will tell her everything, in strictest confidence. I’m not telling lies to Tom Preston, I simply have a hidden agenda. If I can pull this off, then it will be Aletta who contacts the police. I have no idea if this constitutes some form of blackmail, but I intend to cross paths with her, somehow, and offer her two options. All I will be demanding from her is the truth.
The landline kicks into life and I pick up the receiver, rather hesitantly.
‘Ellie, it’s Tom. David would be delighted to meet you to discuss this further and can make himself available tomorrow. He has a number of pieces he can show you in his personal collection that are on display in his home. Would it be convenient to arrange an appointment some time tomorrow?’
I’m stunned. Just like that.
‘Wonderful. I’m free all day.’
‘Great. Shall we say noon? Email me via the website and I’ll send you his address by return. It’s been a pleasure talking to you.’
Tom is already counting his commission, no idea at all that Aletta is in for a big surprise from a total stranger.
‘Thank you for making everything happen, Tom. The pleasure is all mine.’
I immediately dial Richard’s number.
‘I’m meeting with David tomorrow morning at his Knightsbridge home. He has a few pieces in his private collection that he’s prepared to let me look at.’
‘You really deliver, Ellie. I’m impressed.’
I have my fingers crossed Richard doesn’t back out now, or think he can snap something up at a bargain price.
‘It would be great if you could come along too, to meet him in person. It might help when it comes to negotiating a price. I did mention the upcoming magazine spread and indicated he would probably get a mention. I hope that wasn’t over-stepping the mark, but it sharpened his interest.’
‘Good move. A nice little incentive I’m sure he would appreciate. I’ll rearrange a few things. What time?’
‘Noon. As soon as I have the full address I’ll email it over. See you tomorrow, Richard.’
‘I hope you are getting a big bonus for this, Ellie.’
I’d smile, but this isn’t about Livvie, Richard, or looking good, it’s about Max.
~
It’s been a long day. After the girls have their banter with Josh, I take the iPad up to the bedroom for our daily one-to-one.
‘You look tired, Ellie. This is a real strain, isn’t it? Hettie is growing and pushing the boundaries, and Rosie is starting to make herself heard too. Livvie is relying upon you way too much, in my opinion. And you are the person keeping everything together. You need a holiday or a break away. Maybe without the kids; just you and me. I don’t want us to become distant in any way. I know there isn’t much quality time during the week, and we’re both tired when it comes to this point in the day. But you don’t talk to me like you used to do, you know, about the small things.’
I try my best not to let a sigh escape, but it’s hard. I need Josh to feel content at the moment and not add yet another person into the mix who wants something from me.
‘I am tired, I admit that. Work is more than hectic, but it won’t be forever. Please, don’t worry about me. Very soon things will be back to normal. I just need you to understand that it takes a lot out of me to get through each day. I feel pulled in all directions and the best way you can help is to let me get on with it. Too much happens to tell you every little detail, of every day. Much in the same way that I only get an overview of your very separate life at work. The main thing is that everyone is happy and we don’t have anything major to worry about.’
His face reflects sadness and concern.
‘I do worry about you. I miss you like crazy. I miss lying next to you in bed. I worry it will be too much to cope with and what we have will fall apart.’
My heart feels so very heavy to hear him say that.
‘I love you, Josh. This is us you are talking about. Together we can get through anything.’
‘I know. I just need to keep hearing you say it. It reassures me. This isn’t what we’d planned for our future, is it?’
‘Family is everything, Josh, and the sacrifice is worth it. Start counting in terms of months before you can begin to look for something more local, then it doesn’t seem quite so bad.’
I ring Livvie and tell her all about today’s developments and she’s delighted, even though it will mean another day out of the office. I booked the train tickets this afternoon and now all I have to do is select a suitable outfit. Tomorrow I need every little thing to be perfect and if fate is on my side, then it will all fall into place. Or, it will all go very badly wrong.
Chapter 36
The journey to London is uneventful, but in my head I’m going through every possible scenario. They’ve just come back from a long break away, so Aletta and her little daughter should be there too. Whether our paths will cross, that’s something I can’t control. But if it becomes apparent she’s not there, then I’ll have to prolong the meeting in the hope she will return.
It would be rude if David didn’t introduce me to his wife, but it’s fine to plan this all out in my head. The reality could be very different. Either way, I hope to walk away having satisfied an important client, at the very least. Well, I suppose I’m taking even that for granted. So instead I’ll keep my fingers crossed.
~
When the front door opens onto the spacious hallway, the man before me extends his hand.
‘I’m Tom, David’s business manager. Very nice to meet you in person, Ellie.’
We shake and I step inside. It’s Georgian splendour at its very best. All of the features have been retained, but the walls are merely a blank canvas to display David’s artwork. And yet it doesn’t overwhelm, it simply adds interest to spaciousness created by high ceilings and wide corridors. There is a distinctly feminine touch that softens the overall effect. It’s definitely reflected in the clever colour choices and some of the decorative items.
I follow Tom along the hallway past several doors and out into a large glass atrium, beyond which I can see a much newer extension. I had no idea when I stood facing this impressive row of houses how much space there was behind them, assuming the gardens would be modest.
‘Ellie Maddison, let me introduce you to David Lancing.’
David extends his hand, grasping mine quite gently, but then placing his other hand over the top of it. He holds that position for a few seconds, looking me in the eye and giving me a very genuine smile.
My first impression is that David has charm, instant appeal and an air of likeability. I was hoping to take an instant dislike to him, to make this a little e
asier. I can see why Aletta is attracted to him and why he is attracted to her.
‘May I call you Ellie? You must call me David. An artist is always very grateful when someone of importance takes notice of their work. I’m very much looking forward to meeting Richard Dale, my wife and I really enjoy his programme.’
I nod and smile as he so easily defuses any awkwardness.
‘Tom tells me that Richard will be joining us?’
‘Yes, he’ll be here very shortly.’
‘Then perhaps we should sit and I’ll organise some tea, or maybe you prefer coffee, like Tom here?
‘Coffee would be lovely, that’s very kind.’
I feel the part. Cool, professional and in control. But my heart is thudding in my chest. I swallow and take a seat on the grey linen-covered sofa, as indicated by David. He walks over to a console on the wall, presses a button and talks to someone in the kitchen.
‘It won’t be a moment,’ he informs me, taking a seat opposite Tom.
‘What a beautiful house, you have, David.’
He smiles and gives a little nod of acknowledgement. ‘My wife has wonderful taste and she allows me to indulge my growing collection. Don’t you, darling?’
The woman walking towards us with a tray is, without a doubt, Aletta Ormanni. I’m startled; I wasn’t expecting to come face to face with her quite so quickly. The thudding of my heart increases ten-fold, until I remember that we have never met and to her I am a total stranger. There can be no recognition, or any reason for her to be suspicious about me.
‘Vittoria, this is Ellie Maddison, thanks to whom you will very shortly be meeting your culinary hero, Chef Richard Dale.’
‘He really is coming here? I’m so excited to meet him. And he’s interested in David’s work, that wonderful.’ Her English is near-perfect, only the slightest hint of an accent that hardly registers on the ear; however, it gives her voice a very charming quality.
This wasn’t at all what I expected from this young woman. She seems relaxed, happy and adoring of her husband. Aletta places the tray on the coffee table and walks across to shake my hand. Then she turns back to attend to the tray, placing cups in front of each of us in turn. She takes a seat next to David.
‘Please help yourself to sugar. Art is a blessing, Ellie, isn’t it? It lifts the spirits in much the same way that the chords of Puccini or Verdi can touch the soul. It takes us to a higher place.’ Her smile is warm.
‘My wife is of Italian descent and she has become my inspiration. Opera was never a favourite of mine, but I’ve come to appreciate there is a connection between the ear and eye, and that’s the soul.’
A buzzer announces the arrival of Richard, just as my stomach begins to churn. Am I actually capable of doing what I came here to do?
A minute or so later a young woman appears, introducing Richard. He strides across the room to shake hands vigorously with David, who is clearly delighted. He then shakes Tom’s hand and turns to Vittoria.
‘My wife, Vittoria. She is an avid fan. We both watch your programme and it has inspired her to venture into the kitchen. Much to the annoyance of our staff.’
Richard makes a big display of looking immensely flattered and taking Vittoria’s hand. She blushes.
‘Cooking is not a skill I have, unfortunately, but I’ve tried a few of your recipes. I don’t flatter myself I can achieve the same result, but at least I’ve managed to surprise David.’
Everyone smiles, good-naturedly, while Vittoria pours out a coffee for Richard. He takes a seat next to me on the sofa and I think it’s time I took the lead.
‘Richard is renovating a beautiful Victorian property in Surrey. It has the most wonderful park-like grounds and the house looks out across a private lake. Inside, though, the inspiration is modern with a twist. A new interior inside a Victorian shell.’
All eyes are on me. I glance at Vittoria, who is listening with interest.
‘We have a large wall facing the entrance to the house that is two storeys high. It was an earlier conversion when a sweeping staircase and galleried landing was added. The hallway itself isn’t large, so it requires a feature; something big and bold, but a statement that also gives a hint to the style of the interior beyond. The heart of this wonderful building is twenty-first-century living. Richard, have I summed that up correctly?’
‘Indeed. Much better than I could have done. I want something large, commanding and a talking point. It will be the focus, the welcome to my home and it has to reflect my personality.’
David is listening intently and nodding.
‘I think I have a few pieces that might be of interest. I don’t want to restrict you in terms of style, so let’s have a walk around and you can look at my personal collection. I would be humbled to have one of my paintings in the home of such a celebrated and well-loved chef.’
We stand and the tour begins. First, David leads us into his studio. Tom insists on falling in behind Richard and me, leaving Vittoria to take the rear. The room is what you would expect of a working artist and it isn’t particularly tidy. Several canvasses lean up against the wall, but most of them are only part-finished. The smell of the oil paint is heady, yet strangely compelling.
David leads us over to a large picture depicting a seascape. The piercing blue water is edged with almost jet-black rocks. Floating in the breeze is what looks like a piece of white muslin, or maybe a lace shawl, whisked away from a lady’s shoulders by the wind.
It’s time for me to take Tom to one side and get an idea of the sort of cost involved. I don’t want Richard to set his sights on something that will blow his budget.
‘Amazing, isn’t it, Tom?’ I stand at his side, looking on. Vittoria is watching us and discreetly turns away. She idly straightens a pile of clean rags, obviously used for drying the brushes.
‘What sort of price are we looking at for something of that size?’
‘Around fifty thousand, maybe a little more. David’s work is appreciating above market levels, so it’s a good investment. The fact that this is Richard Dale will mean that David will, I’m sure, be prepared to entertain a little flexibility.’
‘Excellent. I think this looks very promising, then.’
In fact, I’m relieved. I know that Richard’s budget is around seventy-five thousand, so I can relax and leave the two of them to wander and confer. They are in deep conversation and I’d say that already we have a contender.
Now my heart is racing once more. I’m facing Vittoria and Tom has moved across to join in the general conversation, content that now it’s simply down to finding the right piece.
‘It’s a great location. You must love living so close to the heart of the city.’
She smiles. ‘I do. There ’eez no other place for me.’
It’s the first time she has slipped and, aside from that, it’s only the way she rolls the letter r that gives a hint of an accent. With heavy blonde highlights and a chin-length cut, her style is very chic and she could easily be French, or even Spanish.
My heart starts pounding and I almost falter, but then I think of Max and it gives me courage.
‘It’s wrong to hide like this, Aletta.’
The shock of my words are reflected in her face as the colour abruptly drains away. She grabs onto the workbench to steady herself.
‘Why are you here?’
‘To buy a painting, but I recognised you.’
‘But I don’t know you. How can you know me?’
‘I have visited Villa Rosso.’
She looks around at her husband, but they are all in deep conversation, about to head back out of the studio to look at the next painting.
‘We can’t talk here.’ She whispers, panic mounting in her voice.
‘I know.’ I take a slip of paper out of my pocket and hand it to her. ‘Here’s my number.’
She reluctantly takes it from my hand and I hurry to catch up with the others, hoping my momentary absence hasn’t been noticed.
; ~
I phone Livvie from the train.
‘How did it go? Come on, tell me.’ She sounds as if she’s expecting bad news.
‘We have a painting. Fifty-five thousand pounds and the artist is delighted. Richard is ecstatic and Tom is going to arrange a little flurry of publicity. David is going to unveil the piece at Richard’s housewarming party. In tandem with the magazine spread, I think this is a win-win situation. But I feel totally drained.’
‘Poor you. I can imagine the tension. I can’t believe you pulled this off. I mean, how on earth did you discover David and his hyper-realism? Now you’ve raised his name and I’ve checked him out, I can’t believe I hadn’t heard of him before. But then art has never been my thing.’
Awkward.
‘Just research on artists in general.’ Another little white lie. It occurs to me how easily a lie slips between one’s lips and maybe we all fool ourselves that the lie we are going to tell will do no harm.
‘Well done you. Have a relaxing evening and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
My evening is going to be anything but relaxing.
Chapter 37
Keep calm, Ellie. Focus on dinner. I look over my shoulder at Josh, chatting away to the girls. Rosie has a problem with her maths homework and Hettie thinks it’s funny because Josh, too, is struggling.
‘You did go to school, Dad, didn’t you? I mean this isn’t rocket science.’
I laugh at the tone of her voice. This is my normality. Visiting Knightsbridge today, Richard’s house in Surrey, Villa Rosso – they are all alternative realities to me. Different aspects of this world, like parallel planes. Will Aletta ring tonight? If she does I imagine it will be from fear of losing what she has rather than from a guilty conscience over what she’s done.
‘Dinner is ready, ladies. Have you finished with Dad?’
They both blow him air kisses and sit at the table so that I can head off for some quiet time with Josh.
The Secrets of Villa Rosso Page 22