The Art of Deception (Choc Lit) (15 page)

All she’d been able to think about
was Max and the thought that she might never see him again. And that thought had torn her apart.

She felt
the blood drain from her face.

Oh, no, she breathed
inwardly. How could she have done such a terrible thing? How could she have let herself fall in love with the man whose actions brought about the death of her father?

Because t
hat’s what she’d done – she’d fallen in love with Max.

Chapter Fourteen

Standing beneath
a night sky studded with glittering stars, they waved goodbye to Carlo as he drove off to his home, then they made their way slowly down the drive to their house. Behind them, the sound of the minibus engine gradually faded into the distance, until it was swallowed up by the still of the night.

Jenny
was the first to reach the terrace.

From
the moment she’d let herself face the fact that she’d fallen in love with Max, the rest of the day had passed in a daze, and she’d longed for it to end. She needed time by herself if she was going to get on top of the feelings that she shouldn’t have and bring her focus back to the reason she came to Italy.

She could hear
Nick just behind her.

‘
Come on, you slowcoaches,’ he called back up the path. He rounded the corner and ran on to the terrace.

‘
We’re going slowly for a reason.’ Clare’s voice came from somewhere further up the path.

A moment or two later, she
turned on to the terrace with Stephen at her side. ‘We want to make the most of our last evening in Italy together, don’t we, Stephen?’ she said, crossing the terrace to join Nick and Jenny. ‘When the evening ends, it means that the holiday’s ended. We want to delay that moment for as long as possible.’

Nick’s face took on an expression of horror.
‘For one ghastly minute, I thought you were going to say, “Don’t we, Stevie darling?”’

Stephen
glared at him, and opened his mouth to speak.

‘
I thought we’d banned all references, either direct or indirect, to a certain two people,’ Jenny cut in quickly.

‘
Oops. So we did. Mea culpa, and all that,’ Nick said, and he hung his head in feigned shame.

She turned to
Stephen and Clare and smiled. ‘Anyway, it’s not really goodbye for you two, is it? Your uncle tells me that you’ve been overcome by sudden academic fervour, Stephen, and you’ve decided to abandon your holiday and return to England to focus on your studies. By a happy coincidence, you’ll be able to meet Clare in London at the end of next week. That’s right, isn’t it?’

Stephen grinned at her.

Clare smiled happily up at Stephen. ‘We’ve been working out all the details.’

‘
It’ll be strange meeting up in England for the first time,’ Stephen said, putting his arm round her. ‘It’s going to make everything much more real. How does it go: Clare’s not just for Italy, she’s for life?’

Giggling,
Clare hugged him.

‘
Where’s Mr Rayburn?’ Jenny suddenly asked. She glanced anxiously towards the path. ‘I’d better go and check up on him. It should have occurred to me earlier that he might need some help. He looked very tired this evening. I don’t know what I was thinking.’

She hurried
back across the terrace. As she reached the foot of the path, George came into sight. He was leaning on Max’s arm.

‘
Here I am, Jennifer, as you see. I fear that it’s taken me a little longer than sometimes, but I’m here now. Max was good enough to aid me. I am most grateful to you, Max.’

‘
It was my pleasure, George. Come on, let’s get you to a seat.’

Jenny
took George’s other arm, and they helped him into a chair.

‘
Thank you, thank you, my friends,’ he said, wiping his forehead. He glanced up at Max. ‘Yet another reason to be grateful to you, Max.’ He glanced at the small group. ‘The rest of you may not know …’ Max gestured that he should stop, but George held up his hand. ‘No, dear boy, let me speak.’ He turned back to the others. ‘When the waiter brought us that wonderful wine this evening, it reminded me that I’d completely forgotten the Sagrantino that our friend in Montefalco was going to bring in for me to taste today. As you can imagine, I was beside myself with annoyance that it had slipped my mind.’

‘
We can, indeed, imagine your consternation,’ Nick murmured. Jenny sent him a reproving glance, and he winked at her. She turned back to George.

‘
Don’t worry, Mr Rayburn. He’ll know what’s been going on,’ she said. ‘I’m sure the whole of Montefalco will have known about the attempted theft well before the end of the morning. You can go for your tasting session tomorrow before you leave for the airport. You’ll easily have enough time.’

‘
There’s no need, Jennifer. Max saw my concern and told me that he’d collected the wine this afternoon and that Carlo had put it in my room whilst we were looking at the display earlier this evening.’

‘
Oh, how thoughtful of you, Max,’ Jenny exclaimed.

George nodded in agreement.
‘Indeed, it was. And not just a taste, but a whole bottle of a truly outstanding wine.’ He looked up at Max. ‘I really am most grateful. Such generosity is overwhelming.’ He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped first one eye and then the other. ‘Quite overwhelming,’ he repeated, and he blew his nose.

Jenny
glanced around the group. ‘Talking of drinks, would anyone like a tea or coffee now, or some wine? Or are you all ready to turn in? It’s been a long day.’

‘
I don’t know about the others,’ Max said, ‘but I’m going to go back now and have a relatively early night.’

‘
You showing signs of tiredness? You must be ill, Uncle Max.’ Stephen started to laugh, but then he suddenly stopped, his expression changing to one of concern. ‘Come to think of it, you’ve been really quiet all evening – not like you at all.
Are
you ill?’

‘
I’m fine, thanks, Stephen. Everything’s rather caught up with me at last. It’s nothing serious.’

‘
I, too, noticed that you’ve not been your normal self this evening, my friend,’ George remarked. ‘But that’s entirely to be expected. These last two days must have been a serious strain for you. It takes time to recover from such a shock, even for the strongest amongst us.’

‘
Just so, George,’ Max said. ‘Right, then, Stephen; time to go, I think. I suggest you say goodnight to Clare and come across with me. Clare’s got an early start tomorrow, and I’m sure you’ll want to be up in time to see her before she goes.’

Stephen smiled down at Clare.
‘I’m going to do better than that – I’m going to wave her off at the airport.’

It was impossible to tell which of them was
gazing at the other more adoringly, Jenny thought as she watched them walk along the illuminated path in the direction of the pool, their arms around each other.

‘
I shall be counting the seconds,’ she heard Stephen murmur, and then there was silence.

She
heard George give a slight grunt behind her and she turned. He’d put a hand on each arm of the chair and was making as if to rise.

At
exactly the same moment, she and Max moved forward to help him.

‘
I think I shall bid you goodnight,’ he said when he was on his feet. ‘It’s been a wonderful evening, an evening to remember, but I feel more than ready to sleep now.’ He nodded briefly to Nick, gave a slight bow to Jenny and allowed Max to help him into the house.

‘
I suppose I ought to go, too,’ Nick said. ‘You must be done in, Jenny. I bet you’re dying for us all to disappear.’

She forced a welcoming look to her face.
‘You said that earlier today, Nick, but you were wrong then and you’re wrong now. There’s no need for you to go if you don’t want to. Would you like a drink of anything?’

‘
No, thanks. I think I’ve probably had enough for this evening. I’ll be leaving at the same time as Clare and I haven’t done any packing yet. I really ought to make a start. So no, nice as it would have been to have had a final drink in the moonlight with you, that would not be a good idea.’ He glanced at Max’s back and shook his head. ‘Shame,’ he said ruefully, and then he grinned at her, turned and strolled into the house, his hands in his pockets.

‘
Ah, there you are,’ Max said, coming out of the house as Stephen and Clare came hurrying on to the terrace. Jenny saw that Clare’s eyes were red.

Max turned to Clare.
‘I probably won’t see you tomorrow, but as I’m pretty sure I’ll be seeing you again in the future, there’s no need for us to say goodbye.’ He gave her a warm smile, put his arm round Stephen’s shoulders and they started walking towards Max’s house, framed by the cypress trees, a row of slender black columns that reached up to the sky, their needle tips silver in the light of the moon.

From time to time
Stephen glanced back at Clare, who stared after them until they were lost from sight, then she turned away, her eyes filling with tears.

‘
Are you all right?’ Jenny asked gently.

Clare
nodded. ‘I’m fine, thanks. Really, I am. It’s just that it’s been such a wonderful week that I don’t want it to end. I’ve loved everything about it, except for the Anderson thing, of course. But not even that could ruin it for me. I’ve really enjoyed the painting we’ve done and I’ve learnt masses, and I’ve met Stephen. I can’t believe how lucky I am.’

‘
And he obviously feels the same way. At least, about
you
, he does. I don’t know about the painting,’ she added with a smile.

‘
He says he does, but maybe he’ll feel differently in England. Maybe the magic will have gone for him. That’s what I’m scared about.’

‘
Maybe he’ll feel the same; maybe he won’t. Max certainly seems to think that he’ll be seeing you again. The best thing for you to do is relax and see what happens. If it’s meant to be, it will be.’

‘
That’s good advice, and I’ll take it.’ Clare wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘And what about you, Jenny? Are you going to take your own advice?’

Jenny
looked at her questioningly. ‘What do you mean?’

‘
We’ve all seen the way that Max looks at you, and we’ve seen the way you look at him. But then you shut him out. I don’t know if you know that you’re doing it, but you are. I’m not being rude, but like you said to me, shouldn’t you relax and see what happens, so if it’s meant to be, it can be?’

Jenny stared at her in surprise.
‘Where did that come from?’

‘
Being a student nurse, you hear all sorts of things. I’ve heard so many people say they regret not doing things in the past that they’d really wanted to do. By the time that they finally decide to do them, it’s nearly always too late for one reason or another. I don’t want to be someone who one day, years from now, says “if only”. And I don’t think you do, either. Or do you?’

‘
No, you’re right. I don’t,’ she said slowly.

‘
So go for it. What have you got to lose? Anyway, I’ve probably said enough, if not too much, so I’ll say goodnight now. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

With a little wave of farewell,
Clare went into the house.

Standing motionless
in the middle of the empty terrace, Jenny stared after her.

‘
No, I don’t,’ she repeated to herself, and she picked up her bag and made her way back to her room.

Early the following morning, she said goodbye to Nick and Clare at the top of the drive, and a temporary goodbye to Stephen. She waved to them until the minibus was out of sight, and then strolled back down to the house.

So
now only George was left, she thought, and not for that much longer. Max was right – it was going to feel very strange when they’d all gone. When it was just her and Max. A wave of ice-cold panic shot through her. Max had made it clear that there were things he intended to say to her, but she was frightened to hear them – she couldn’t trust her reactions any more.

Reaching the terrace, she looked around
for George, but he was nowhere to be seen. She bit her lip anxiously. She’d have to find something else to do that would take her mind off her fear that Max might materialise at any moment and insist upon the conversation she was dreading.

The class’
s work. That would do it, she thought in a flash.

T
hey’d taken their best pictures with them, carefully packaged so as not to ruin them on the journey, but she’d photographed them all beforehand, knowing she had some good material there for next year’s advertising. She’d deal with the photos later, but first she’d have a look at their earlier sketches and preliminary designs. There was a chance that she could make them into a collage that could be used in some way. If anything could divert her thoughts, it would be that.

She
went quickly to the cupboard in which she’d stored their work, pulled out the remaining drawings and spread them out on the floor as close to the patio doors as she could in order to take advantage of the light. Then she knelt on the floor, her back to the glass doors, and started to put the work into piles.

A
shadow passed across the room. It stopped in the path of the sun, cutting the stream of light in two.