‘Our afternoon was a bit shit, truth be told,’ he said, tone lowered and gaze wary in case Billie should reappear. ‘She hated the boat and decided the castles and fortresses we saw were all as boring as hell. It was embarrassing. The captain kept telling us he could land the craft, and we could get out and wander around, but she wasn’t having any of it.’ Malcolm’s cheeks coloured as he added, ‘I think he thought we were married – or at least a couple. Kept referring to romantic spots, great places for couples to visit, which of the places we passed were licensed to hold weddings. At one point, he offered to take some pictures of the two of us with my camera. Completely misinterpreted why I kept taking photos of her.’
It was Amy’s turn to grimace. ‘Awkward.’
Malcolm smiled, but there was a hint of sadness to it. ‘He asked if we had any children, and it got very complicated when I told him I had three boys. I think he assumed Billie was my second wife. It wound her right up.’
Amy touched Malcolm’s elbow. ‘Are you all right?’
‘It’s not like I want Billie to see me in that way – God knows she would be far too much for me to cope with – but she looked genuinely disgusted by the idea. I know I’m not much of a catch, but…’
‘There’s nothing about you I don’t like, Malc,’ Amy said, her tone genuinely upbeat. Then she wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, I’m not keen when you leave me to deal with her tantrums. That’s not so much fun, but apart from that you’re a great work colleague and a better friend, in my opinion.’
‘Thanks, Ames. I appreciate that. But…’ Malcolm shook his head, shouldering his camera bag again. ‘Maybe it’s time for me to take stock of where I am with my life. Maybe this is the wake-up call I’ve been needing. She said some horrible things to me, hurtful things about my marriage, why it ended. I’m so fed up with having to brush it under the carpet, pretend everything’s fine, you know?’
Amy did know.
‘Thing is,’ Malcolm continued, ‘My boys went through so much when Kaye and I split, I didn’t want them missing out on anything else – so working with Billie has given me a consistent income stream not many photographers get to enjoy. And I thought I could cope with the banter, suppose I’d convinced myself she didn’tactuallymean any of it. But maybe… If that’s really what she thinks of me – if I really do disgust her…’ He dragged in a huge breath and tutted. ‘Ignore me, Ames, I’m tired. And I’m delighted you had a great afternoon with Tad. I think he’s a kind, considerate bloke and, if I’ve learnt anything in my fifty-two years on this planet, it’s that when the dung hits the wall, the only thing that truly matters is having people at hand who care about you. And kindness should never be underrated.’
‘We’re not even… We went for a walk around the town, that’s all.’
‘Yeah. You said.’ Malcolm arched his substantial eyebrows. ‘That was today. But what about tomorrow? Day after that? Where do you want to be then, and who with? I think it’s a question I need to ask myself.’
He gave her a thin smile. ‘I’m going to grab a very hot shower. Notes from today – Billie hated everything about this afternoon, and she won’t want anything to do with it included in your write-up. There. Debrief complete. See you for dinner.’
‘See you later,’ she said. As she watched Malcolm’s dejected figure trudge away, it felt like something was shifting in the Billie Forsythe-Rogers bubble, and Amy couldn’t help but wonder if Malcolm was about to rupture it.
22
Tad whistled to himself as he completed his prep for the following day’s lesson. The last lesson with this group. Hard to believe their time at Casa was almost over – it felt to him as though the week had gone past twice as quickly as usual. He’d barely touched base with Clare, let alone done anything about his negative thoughts about James – or the way that impacted on his view of Clare’s news. He hadn’t put in the effort he should have done with Billie Forsythe-Rogers, especially if he was interested in moving on from Casa del Cibo and exploring the options she might have on offer. And his time with Amy had been so fleeting. Far too fleeting.
The tune dried on his lips. They’d hardly managed to say ‘hello’ in any meaningful way and Amy would soon be saying goodbye. In a touch over thirty-six hours she would be gone, and there was nothing he could do to change that.
Before he could dwell on that thought any further, there was a knock on the framework of the open kitchen door. James Gardner stood in the doorway, imposing his height on the space and his gaze on Tad, who tried not to bristle.
‘Hello there,’ Tad said, forcing himself to sound cheerful. ‘Can I help with something?’
‘I hope so. Can I come in?’
That was unexpected. Tad had assumed James to be the type of man to stride into any space he needed access to.
‘Of course,’ Tad said, wiping his hands on a cloth and setting it aside.
‘I’ll come straight to the point,’ James said. ‘I want to take Clare for a picnic tomorrow – the two of us – and I wondered if that was something you could provide for me?’
Tad frowned. Extra meals provided haphazardly for guests weren’t usually on the agenda; he had enough to do without that. And yet, he’d bent the rules already this week, more than once. The fact Billie hadn’t turned up for the lesson he’d prepared especially for her, or that he and Amy had ended up making peach tart instead, was by the by – he’d been prepared to do it for a celebrity he’d never met, to curry favour. And he’d fed Amy lunch after they’d returned from Monte Baldo. Although that had little to do with maintaining good relations with guests, and far more to do with spending as long with Amy as possible.
And this request, even though it was coming from someone Tad had yet to warm to,wasfor Clare – and there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Clare.
‘I feel like we’ve got off on the wrong foot,’ James said. ‘I think that might be on me, crashing in like I did yesterday.’
‘Why do you call her Beetle? I didn’t think Clare was one for nicknames.’
It wasn’t the smoothest of segues, but the question was something that had been rolling around Tad’s brain like a marble in a washing machine.
James smiled, and for the first time since the man had arrived at Casa del Cibo, Tad saw an inkling of genuine emotion in his expression. ‘It’s silly, really. But that’s how we met. She was trying to persuade a beetle onto a leaf, wanted to get it off the pavement before someone trod on it, but it kept falling off. I’d come out of my offices, was about to get into my car when I saw this crazy woman, leaf in hand, bent double over the tarmac. It took me a while to work out what she was doing and when I offered assistance I startled her, she jinked, and the beetle fell off the leaf again. She was so cross with me.’
‘I see,’ Tad said. Saving a beetle did sound like something Clare would do, crazy though it sounded.
‘You could say our eyes met over an iridescent insect,’ James said. ‘And by the time we’d got the beetle to safety I’d asked Clare out for a coffee, and she’d said yes and, well, it went from there. Months later she told me she felt like I’d rescued her, too, so I started calling her Beetle, and the name stuck.’
