The Villa of Dreams Read online

  That succeeds in raising a smile as my fingers tap away.

  Well done, lady!

  I attach a GIF of a woman flexing her muscles before I press send. Seconds later she replies.

  I was being a bit of a wimp, wasn’t I? Any news at your end?

  It’s a go… eek!

  Celebrations all round – nothing can stop us now!

  ‘Good morning. You are through to Seren Maddison. How can I help?’

  I glance across at Carolina, who is sitting the other side of my desk. Her fingers are tapping away wildly on her laptop as she massages the Gantt chart we’ve spent the best part of the last week poring over. We are on the verge of finalising the overall timeline, tweaking each operational strand as if it’s a musical score.

  ‘It’s Reid Henderson, Seren. I thought it was time I made direct contact to express my sincere apologies for being so elusive. I’ve been travelling and bogged down with meetings in between, but I wanted to assure you that my assistant, Leonor, has been keeping me fully updated.’

  The relief I feel at finally hearing his voice stops me in my tracks for a brief second or two. Three conference calls have already been held without him and the pressure is beginning to mount. Despite constant reassurances from his team, I was beginning to have my doubts over whether he was as invested in this project as I need him to be. To the extent that the last two nights I’ve woken up around three in the morning in a cold sweat, wondering if it’s too late to find another artist to step in.

  ‘Oh, no apology needed and thank you so much for the call, Mr Henderson. We’re in the process of finalising the timetable for the various stages of the project as we speak and I’m hoping to get a copy emailed to you later today.’

  ‘Great, and please call me Reid, if you have no objection to me calling you Seren. I’ve made a start on selecting which pieces I think will work best when it comes to the artwork for Bernadette Brodeur. I don’t know her, of course, but my assistant has shown me examples of her work. This is going to be a most interesting collaboration indeed.’

  His voice is smooth, like a voice-over artist. In fact, that velvety tone is something we should take advantage of if I can talk him into it. What if we could record him introducing the fashion show? Thoughts are whirling around inside my head and I realise he’s waiting for a response.

  ‘We are gearing up to begin moving things forward very quickly now. If your assistant can let me know when you are available, perhaps we could arrange a video call so we can run through any questions you might have?’

  A mellow ‘hmm’ echoes down the line. ‘I will most certainly make a list and if you can bear with me another day, two at most, it will allow me to tie up the last few loose ends. Then I’ll make myself freely available to you. How does that sound?’

  More than reasonable.

  ‘Perfect. And if there’s anything either I, or my staff, can do to assist you, then please don’t hesitate to let me know.’

  ‘Thank you, Seren, I will bear that in mind. It’s been a pleasure talking to you and we’ll speak again very soon, I promise.’

  The blood is pounding in my ears as the line disconnects and I see that Carolina has stopped typing.

  ‘That sounded positive.’

  I let out a huge sigh, bowing my head and closing my eyes while I offer up a silent prayer of thanks to the universe. ‘He hasn’t been avoiding us, he’s been travelling. You can go ahead with the press release.’

  ‘At last! I will admit, no disrespect to you, Seren, but I was beginning to have my doubts about him.’

  ‘Well, it sounds like he’s equally as keen to get this rolling now, which is a big weight off my shoulders. Our timetable is dependent upon Reid being able to make some quick decisions and supply the prints we need to pass on to Bernadette. That must be the number one priority, given the lead time for organising the fabric samples. Naturally, Reid will be required to sign those off, in agreement with Bernadette. She’ll then work closely with the manufacturers producing the garments and the soft furnishings. Leonor has already confirmed that Reid’s business manager will arrange for the paintings for the general exhibition to be shipped over from London. Obviously, Carolina, if we can get hold of some photos of a few of the pieces for advertising purposes, that would be great, and I’ll press for that when Reid gets in touch.’

  ‘What impression did you get of him?’

  ‘Well, considering his fame, he came across as very friendly, motivated, and about to get focused. Which is a huge relief. This is a big deal and the exposure he’s going to get will translate into a nice little boost in sales of his paintings. Looking at the guest list for the official party, I doubt whether any of them would lose any sleep over the cost of acquiring an original by Reid Henderson. Goodness, if I could afford it, I’d love to have one of his pieces hanging on a wall, appreciating in value. It’s a sound investment. But it’s necessary to get those people in front of the actual artwork to tempt them.’

  Carolina smiles at me. ‘He is a very handsome man and a true gentleman, I hear. Lots of business meetings over lunch to look forward to?’

  I shoot her a glance. ‘I doubt that. He’s much too busy to be wined and dined by an event coordinator. I’m sure the directors will want to arrange a special dinner in his honour, as an expression of their gratitude. Maybe even hosted at Senhor Ferreira’s home as, naturally, the invite would also be extended to Rafael and Bernadette.’

  It’s strikes me as strange how people perceive these things as being much more fun than they are when you are taking part in person. I’ve had my fair share of sitting in expensive restaurants watching my father suck up to monied people and it’s a chore.

  ‘Of course,’ she replies, nodding in agreement. ‘Oh, how the rich and famous live; it must be a wonderful life. I might treat myself to a print as a souvenir of this momentous occasion, but my budget will be in the hundreds, not the thousands.’

  My father might not be famous, but he has money and I can vouch for the fact that it doesn’t make life wonderful at all. Well, not in the way Carolina means. I believe that happiness is a state of mind.

  ‘I’m sure that we can wrap up most of the detail in a couple of online meetings. But I will be curious to meet him in the flesh, as I’m sure we all will.’

  ‘Well, if, and I say if, you could get me a programme signed by him for my mother, I would be forever in your debt. My father bought her one of Reid’s prints for their thirtieth wedding anniversary and she adores his work.’

  ‘Ah, Carolina, that’s a lovely idea. I’d like to think you’d get the opportunity to ask him yourself on the day, but we’ll definitely make it happen.’

  ‘I’d better start working on the design for the programme then. The pressure is on to make it extra special now,’ she laughs. ‘I bet I know where you’re heading next.’

  ‘Yes. Senhor Ferreira is going to be delighted to hear Reid has already begun to put the collection of pieces together. Things will quickly gather momentum and that’s all the reassurance he requires for now.’

  3

  Not Quite the Saturday I Had Planned

  It’s chilly today and the sky is a bleak shade of grey. Here inside my little workshop in the garden I’m more than content to while away my day. My not-so-little marsh sandpiper has taken shape and the task of mounting him onto a substantial platform is making me break out into a sweat. In real life, this little guy would comfortably sit within my hands and weigh no more than eighty grams. The piece I’ve dubbed Pássaro nobre – Noble bird – is seventy-five centimetres long, and sixty-centimetres wide; he’s so heavy that I need to bend my knees to lift him.

  ‘This isn’t quite right, is it, meu amigo?’ I ask my new little friend.

  Talking to him as I work, he stares back at me unblinkingly but with a distinct air of firm resolve. Voicing out aloud the questions that keep on whirling around inside my head is helping me to get my thoughts straight. Chief amongst them is whether I can fill the ho
urs I’m not working enough to stop myself becoming nostalgic over the things I miss about the UK. Like being able to make a call and then head off to the cinema with an old friend when I’m in need of company. Or meeting up with Judi to go shopping. The statue’s gaze is unrelenting and telling me to get a grip.

  ‘You’re going to make sure I’m kept busy, aren’t you? I can tell you don’t approve of wallowing.’ His beady eyes stare back at me and I look down at the metal box I’ve only just finished welding together. It’s too geometric and I realise I’ve just wasted three solid hours of work.

  Turning off the welding torch and discarding my gloves, I feel disappointed in myself because this fascinating little bird deserves better. Raising the mask for a moment, it’s a relief to fill my lungs with some fresh air.

  When my phone starts to buzz, I snatch it out of my pocket, thinking it’s time for a break anyway.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hi Seren, it’s Reid. I hope I’m not disturbing you.’

  On a Saturday?

  ‘No, of course not, Reid. Is there a problem?’

  The sound of his slightly embarrassed laugh echoes down the line. ‘No, not at all. But there’s been a change of plan and I’m away again this coming week. I know you were hoping we could finally meet up in person and I’m home alone today. I don’t suppose you are free for dinner this evening? It would be doing me a huge favour if you’re not adverse to talking business as we eat. My itinerary is pure madness again, I’m afraid, as I’m involved in a charity fundraiser.’

  Drenched in sweat from the heat of welding, my hair is plastered to my head as if I’ve just stuck it under a running tap and he’s talking about dinner?

  ‘Well, of course I can make myself available. I didn’t know you were already back in Lisbon. I’m not even sure what time it is to be honest with you as I’ve been working, but I can most certainly make a reservation somewhere and would be delighted to grab the chance to talk.’

  ‘Oh, no need for that. I’ll pick you up and we can eat at my place. It’s quiet here on the edge of the forest and only about a twenty-minute drive from the centre of Lisbon. Text me your address and I’ll see you around seven.’

  I swallow hard. ‘I could hire a car to save you the drive if you give me directions.’

  ‘It’s no trouble, honestly.’

  ‘Seven it is then. Thank you, Reid.’

  The panic immediately begins to set in. What on earth am I going to wear? The dress code at work is conservative, with the men wearing the usual business suit, smart shirt and a tie. I usually wear a knee-length skirt, a jacket and a long-sleeve blouse, taking a lead from my peers. Learning the unspoken protocols took me a while. Punctuality is a given and excuses are seen as just that, no matter how busy the traffic might be. And no one leaves the office at a set time every day. Instead, the culture is to work until the job in hand is completed and never leave before your superior. But as for a business meeting outside of work hours, how on earth do I dress for that? Reid might be British by birth, but I’m still representing the gallery and I doubt he’ll be in jeans and a t-shirt.

  Yet, along with the questions, there’s also excitement. I’m about to meet up with a famous artist and he’s taking the time and trouble to come and pick me up. Maybe he isn’t going to be a man with a big ego and I might actually enjoy this dinner.

  Reid drives his silver Mercedes E-Class coupé with a sensitive touch and the journey is pleasant. I feel very safe as we speed along the open roads. I’ve said little, as he seems happy to talk about other projects he’s working on right now. His life is as busy and varied as I suspected. That’s why he’s hard to get hold of at times.

  When we eventually turn off onto a quiet country road and follow a long, sweeping drive up to Reid’s house, it’s even bigger than I expected.

  ‘This is stunning,’ I remark, unable to mask my admiration.

  ‘I had Casa da Floresta built some eight years ago. This is where I will eventually settle, but for now I spend a fair bit of time in London. I’ll get your door.’

  He climbs out and walks around the car while I unhook my seat belt. Thank goodness I settled on wearing a pale blue, scooped-neck, lace pencil dress with a scalloped hem. It’s one of those little dresses that is suitable for most occasions, as it’s light and summery. Reid is looking casual, in navy blue trousers and a pale blue shirt. He’s not an ostentatious man and in the flesh he’s even more handsome than on a video call. His smile is engaging and lights up his eyes.

  ‘Welcome to my little piece of Sintra,’ he says, as he swings open the door and offers me his hand. As I take it and ease myself up out of the seat, I do so with practised elegance. It’s ingrained in me now; my mother is all about poise and good manners, which she says will get you a long way in life.

  As Reid draws me closer to him, I look away to focus on the property instead, nestled against a wooded hill at the base of the mountains. This luxurious country house has crisp lines and a contemporary feel. It’s made up of two three-storey buildings linked by a single-storey central corridor on the second level, with the lower levels partially set into the hillside. There is a wonderful covered terrace to the front, beyond which is a wall of glass. The stark white exterior is in sharp contrast to the rich reds of the Roman roof tiles. But the backdrop of the trees as they rise up as far as the eye can see softens the whole appearance, wrapping it in a living cloak of vibrant shades of green.

  ‘What an interesting design,’ I compliment him, and he flashes me a wonderfully warm smile.

  ‘Like a painting, you get out of it what you put in. It was a labour of love for me as the idea is that one day the east wing will become an art gallery. I’d like to teach here too when the demands on my time aren’t quite so pressing. Dreams like that are expensive, so I need to be patient.’

  I smile, surprised by his candour as he indicates for me to walk on.

  ‘Have you managed to escape Lisbon yet and discover the delights of Sintra? Life here in the foothills of the mountains is very pleasant. We’re lucky enough to be sheltered from the winds because of the way the land rises up.’

  Reid falls in step alongside me as we climb a run of wide steps leading up to the terrace on the middle level.

  ‘No. I’m still settling in and I haven’t really ventured far. My goodness, you must find it a wrench every time you leave this place. What a wonderful setting, so relaxing, I should imagine, and such an inspiration when you are working.’

  ‘Yes. It hasn’t always been that way… relaxing, I mean.’

  He leans forward to swing open an obscured glass door and what I assumed was going to be a corridor is in fact a massive, single-storey room with high ceilings. The walls either side display several large pieces of artwork, but, despite the proportions of the space, there are only two sofas in the centre of the room, flanked by small side tables.

  ‘This will, someday, become a gallery showcasing up-and-coming artists, but, in the meantime, it is where I store some of my pieces. A few of them are destined for the Galeria das Almas exhibition. We’re heading through here,’ Reid indicates as we traverse the pristine, glossy tiled floor. He slides back bifold glass doors leading out onto a large inner courtyard. With the backdrop of the trees and the stone walls either side enclosing the space, it’s delightful.

  A large, circular table is laid out as it would be if this were a smart restaurant. With a white linen tablecloth, silver cutlery, and hammered metal charger plates, it’s more formal than I’d expected. In the centre is a vase of pale pink hydrangea heads which couldn’t be simpler, or more pleasing to the eye.

  Reid hurries to pull out one of the two chairs for me.

  ‘Thank you. I wish all business meetings were conducted in surroundings like this,’ I remark, as I lower myself onto the seat.

  Raising my eyes to give Reid an acknowledging smile, the genuine warmth in his gaze is unexpected.

  He clears his throat, as if he’s embarrassed that I caught
him looking at me so intently. It panics me a little as I assume Reid is married, but I notice he doesn’t wear a ring. He’s so easy to be around, friendly and understated. There’s no desire to impress, only to please – which is refreshing. And unexpected. Although, he’s probably used to being a good host and doing his best to put visitors at ease.

  ‘It’s the least I can do considering I’m disturbing your plans for a Saturday evening. I appreciate you accommodating my request at such short notice. Sometimes my life doesn’t feel my own any more, but busy is good.’

  As Reid takes his seat, a man walks towards us and they exchange a few words in Portuguese.

  ‘What would you like to drink, Seren?’ Reid enquires.

  ‘I’ll… um, go with whatever you’re having.’

  The man smiles at me as I look up at him. ‘I am Vitor. I bring you a Tinto da nfora. Vinho clássico,’ he informs me with pride, before striding off.

  ‘Vitor and his wife, Gisela, run this place. It’s too big for me now, of course, and I mainly use just the one wing.’

  Now? It’s a fight to keep my curiosity at bay, but I’m conscious that this isn’t a social visit. Perhaps I should try to steer the conversation in another direction.

  ‘It’s nice to have space and so much easier to talk than in a restaurant. Although our publicity machine is busy putting out as much information as we can, so very soon everything will be common knowledge.’

  Vitor returns, carrying a bottle of wine, accompanied by a much younger woman, who proceeds to place two large-bowled wine glasses in front of us. I defer to my host when it comes to the tasting and Vitor seems content when Reid nods his approval, but he doesn’t leave us until I’ve taken a sip.