‘“I find yoga so relaxing,”’ Owen intoned mockingly, quoting from the magazine, which he was still holding. ‘“It really centres me. I feel so calm, positive and at one with the world after my yoga session.”’
Simon moved around Tessa, judging the shot from every angle. ‘Should I take this from in front or behind?’ he asked.
‘God, Tessa must be so sick of being asked that,’ Owen said to Kate, who collapsed into giggles. ‘That’s the problem when youhave a face like a slapped arse – no one can tell which end should be up.’
‘Take it from in front,’ Tessa snapped, ‘and hurry up before I suffocate.’
‘Um… maybe it would look better if you had more clothes on?’ Simon suggested.
‘Nah, go on,’ Owen called to him. ‘One for the hand-job brigade!’
‘I suppose a few beaver shots never hurt anyone,’ Simon mumbled as he snapped.
‘Careful Tessa,’ Owen called. ‘If the wind changes, you could be left like that.’
Tessa unknotted herself, grabbed one of her sandals and shied it at him.
‘Fuck off, you fucking ape!’ she spat.
Owen dodged the missile, unperturbed. ‘Wow, I’d hate to see herbeforeshe does yoga.’
‘Hey, cut it out, you two,’ Louise called, coming towards them from the house, like a parent stepping in to referee a fight between five-year-olds.
‘He started it,’ Tessa pouted.
‘Owen, please stop winding Tessa up,’ Louise said quietly, when Tessa had gone back to her posing. ‘It just makes it harder on everyone having her here.’
‘Sorry.’ He sounded chastened.
‘Rory and Georgie are looking for you,’ she told him. ‘They’re in the studio.’ She waved to an outbuilding at the other side of the house. ‘Kate, if you like, I can show you around the place now?’
‘Sure.’
They walked together to the outbuilding that the band were going to use as a studio. When they opened the door, the air wasthick with smoke, and the smell of weed was overpowering. Rory and Georgie were fiddling with the equipment, stopping briefly when Louise introduced Kate. Despite the heat, Georgie was dressed in her trademark tracksuit bottoms and a high-necked T-shirt. The first time they had met, Kate had noticed that eye contact wasn’t Georgie’s strong point, but now she smiled shyly before her eyes slid away. Rory lifted his chin almost imperceptibly in mute acknowledgement of her, but Kate was struck by the complete transformation that came over him when he looked at Louise. She had seen the way his eyes lit up when she came into the room and he was looking at her now with a smile that softened and smoothed his tough, world-weary features, making him seem immeasurably younger, the wary eyes boyishly vulnerable.
So that’s how it is, she thought. Thinking back over things Louise had said in the car, she reckoned the feeling was probably mutual. Which begged the question: if Rory could have Louise, what the hell was he doing with Tessa?
They left Owen in the studio with the others and Louise took Kate on a tour of the main house. There were eight bedrooms on the upper two floors, all with en-suite bathrooms and sumptuous furnishings. A vast living-dining area, with a spectacular arched brick ceiling, took up almost the entire ground floor, and there was an enormous kitchen. Outside there was a built-in barbecue on the pool terrace and, to the side of the house, leading off the kitchen, another terrace with a long table under a pergola. Apart from the studio, there were two more small outbuildings that housed separate apartments, one of which, Louise explained, was occupied by Maria and Franco, the Italian couple who acted as housekeeper and gardener. Franco had taken Phoenix and Summer into Florence, but Louise brought her to meet Maria, a stereotypical Italian matron straight out of a pasta-sauce advert.Maria greeted Kate warmly in fractured English, kissing her on both cheeks, and saying‘bella’several times. She promised to take Kate into the village on Monday and introduce her to the locals.
The tour finished in the kitchen, where Louise left Kate to explore on her own.
Kate was soon engrossed in making an inventory of the food. Flipping through the notes Louise had given her, she began to feel excited about starting work. This was the sort of job she enjoyed most, real home cooking for a small group, like cooking for one’s own family. She enjoyed making people happy with food and liked to see the pleasure it gave.
Taking a notebook and pen, she went back to the terrace to plan menus for the coming week. She was still there when Summer and Phoenix returned from their trip to Florence. ‘Hi, Kate, nice to see you again,’ Phoenix said, coming out onto the terrace. He was wearing wraparound shades and a baseball cap low over his eyes, probably to give him some measure of anonymity, Kate guessed, so he could walk the streets of Florence unmolested.
He was followed by Summer, laden with shopping bags. ‘Hi, Kate. Will told us you’d arrived. I’ve been for some retail therapy,’ she said, shaking the shopping bags, which bore designers’ names. ‘Not Phoenix, though – he spent the afternoon staring at art in churches.’ She smiled at him affectionately. ‘Well, it’s nice to see you again,’ she said, and drifted off.
‘I still haven’t been to the Uffizi,’ Phoenix said, sitting beside Kate, as if he was resuming a conversation they had started earlier in the day. He flicked through a big book of Italian art he was holding, opened a page and held it out to her. ‘I went to this place today – amazing frescos. These photographs don’t do them justice. You must go.’
He patted his pockets, pulling out numerous scraps of paper with scribbling on them, then found a packet of cigarettes. He lit one, took a long draw and exhaled the smoke before offering one to Kate.
‘No, thanks, I don’t smoke.’
‘I keep meaning to give up,’ he said, waving smoke away from Kate’s face. ‘Still, could be worse – at least it’s not heroin. And when you’re an ex-junkie you’ve got to have something. Have you ever tried heroin, Kate?’ he asked conversationally.
‘No, I haven’t.’ Kate said, feeling like a bit of a fuddy-duddy.
‘My advice is don’t. Such a beautiful thing.’ He shook his head sadly. ‘You’re better off not knowing.’ His voice was full of longing, as though he were talking of a lost love. ‘Fucking gorgeous.’ He sighed wistfully, blowing smoke skywards. ‘They have some amazing stuff in the churches here…’
