too.
That
’ll de-stress you.’
I prod him with my toe and he laughs.
‘So, where’s next after Venice?’
‘Prague.’
‘Prague! Great.’ He nods. ‘And then?’
‘Don’t be so impatient! Wait and see! There’s plenty of time.’
The truth is, Luke’s not brilliant at going on holiday. He doesn’t really get the whole chilling-out-and-doing-nothing thing. He always wants a plan and a timescale and to have our daily schedule on his BlackBerry. But that’s the whole point of this year. To unwind him. To turn him into a different Luke Brandon.
I mean, not
totally
different, obviously. He can keep all his good bits.
‘What are you thinking?’ He smiles at me, and for an instant I imagine telling him the truth.
I was thinking about how I want to change you, all except your good bits.
‘Er … nothing!’ I smile back. ‘Let’s go.’
* * *
It turns out the Guggenheim in Venice is the perfect museum! Number one: it’s not really a museum, it’s a house. Number two: it’s got a gorgeous garden and a view over the Grand Canal. Number three: there’s just the right amount of art. Enough that you can nod and go ‘Mmmm,’ and appreciate it and everything, but not so much that your eyes start to blur over and you start wanting to die.
Luke is really into modern art, and he spends ages staring at a couple of paintings that look just a
teeny
bit like random, senseless scribbles to me, so I decide to go and appreciate the art in the garden, where you can sit on a bench and close your eyes and just soak up the vibe in more of a holistic way.
After a while, I feel a tap on my shoulder and look up to see Luke in front of me.
‘That was great!’ I say at once. ‘Amazing concepts. I was just thinking about them.’
‘Isn’t it a fantastic exhibition?’ Luke nods enthusiastically. ‘I thought I might pop into the gift shop,’ he adds. ‘There’s a book I want to buy. Do you mind if I just have a quick look?’
I stare at him, flummoxed. Something about this conversation feels back to front.
I
’m waiting for
Luke
to shop?
‘Of course,’ I say at last. ‘If you want to pop into the shop, I don’t mind. No problem. Take your time.’
As Luke heads into the gift shop, I can’t resist leaning against the door, looking a little bored, just like Luke normally does when we’re out shopping. Then I get out my phone and start tapping a text to Suze, which is even
more
like Luke. Whenever I’m buying shoes, he always suddenly has a million urgent emails to do, and barely even glances at what I’m trying on. Well, now he’ll know what it feels like.
‘What do you think?’ He brings two big hardback books over for me to see. ‘I can’t decide.’
‘They both look good,’ I say, looking up politely from my text.
‘One’s quite a lot more expensive than the other, but it’s more substantial …’ He riffles the pages, frowning. ‘Shall I get both?’
‘Do you
need
both?’ I reply innocently.
Ha! This is fun. Next I’ll say, ‘Surely you’ve got lots of art books at home already, Luke?’ or ‘Do you really think you’ll use them?’ or ‘They both look the same to me.’
I’m about to look at my watch and sigh, which is
another
thing Luke always does when we’re shopping … when something catches my eye, perched on a display in the middle of the shop. It’s a triple-layer, all-in-one art set. It has a palette of paints in every colour, brushes, sketching pencils, pastels … even a little artist’s mannequin.
I walk towards it, mesmerized. I’ve always wanted an art set, ever since I was a little girl. And this one is amazing. The case is velvet-lined. The brushes are polished wood. The paint colours are fabulous. It reminds me of my Urban Decay eye palette.
I run my fingers over the graphite pencils, experiment with the cantilevered lid and try out the biggest, fattest sable brush. I can’t tear myself away. It’s exquisite, and I’ve been
wanting
to get into
Philip Kerr
C.M. Boers
Constance Barker
Mary Renault
Norah Wilson
Robin D. Owens
Lacey Roberts
Benjamin Lebert
Don Bruns
Kim Harrison