The Art of Deception (Choc Lit) by Liz Harris Read Free Book Online

Bit of a weird thing to lie about.’
    ‘ We must be mistaken,’ Nick said, and started walking down the hill again. ‘No one would say they couldn’t speak Italian if they could. There’d be no reason to lie about it. In fact, they’re more likely to say that they can speak the lingo when they can’t, rather than the other way round.’
    ‘ Could you hear what they were saying?’ Stephen asked.
    ‘ Not really. We were too far away,’ Clare replied.
    ‘ Well, that’s it, then.’ Nick smiled in triumph. ‘The computer instructions were in English, weren’t they? And so were the details on the wall outside the car hire office. We know the man in the internet café doesn’t speak English, so I bet it’s the car hire man who does.’
    Stephen nodded in agreement. ‘What Nick says makes sense, Clare.’
    Clare’s face cleared. ‘You’re right, it does.’
    A moment later, Paula came clattering behind them on the cobblestones.

Chapter Five
    Jenny lingered beneath a mulberry tree at the side of the terrace and watched them.
    Max was standing at the edge of the terrace, looking cool and relaxed in well-cut chinos and a pale grey open-necked shirt. He had a glass in his hand and was staring out at the garden. Stephen hovered at his side, clearly restless, his back to the view, his eyes riveted to the patio doors. Every so often, Max looked around at Stephen and said something to him. Each time, though, he had to nudge Stephen and repeat himself before Stephen was able to answer him.
    It was pretty clear what Stephen was thinking about.
    But i t wasn’t so easy to know what went on inside his uncle’s mind, she thought.
    Max came across as open and uncomplicated, but no matter how genuine he seemed, it must all be a veneer. Unfortunately for her, it was a veneer that seemed to be firmly in place. From the small amount she’d seen of him, she knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to discover what lurked beneath the easy charm.
    And she didn’t have unlimited time, which made it all the more difficult.
    As far as she knew, he was only going to be joining them in the evenings. It was true that when the end of the week arrived, all the members of the class would go home and she’d be alone for the rest of the summer, doing the paintings that he wanted, but he might decide to leave for England soon after the others. If he did, she wouldn’t have had sufficient time to find out why he and his brother had behaved so cruelly towards her father, and that meant the part that they’d played in his death could forever remain a mystery.
    Of course, she might always have another chance the following summer, but there was no guarantee that Max would want to see art classes there again, much as he might think now that he would. And even if he did, there was no certainty he’d ask her to run them for him.
    I f he did … the thought of waiting another whole year before she could try to find out the truth … well, it didn’t bear thinking about.
    She’d have to take advantage of every opportunity she was offered, no matter how slight, to encourage him to stay on in Italy for at least some of the time that she’d be there on her own. If he did so, she’d see him occasionally and she’d have to make the most of that time.
    T hey’d probably not get much beyond exchanging platitudes and discussing her drawings. There wasn’t enough time to build more of a friendship than that, but exchanging platitudes would be better than nothing, and might just lead to something more. It was vital that she worked on their friendship in the few evenings that they had together that week, and she couldn’t afford to waste a single precious minute.
    The patio doors suddenly swung open and Clare came through them, wearing a short yellow cotton dress, her hair a mass of lustrous red curls that gleamed in the light. Nick followed closely behind her.
    Stephen made a beeline for Clare. ‘Can I get you a drink?’ he asked, positioning