Free The Runaway Visitors by Eleanor Farnes Page A

she preferred him when he was being completely natural. ‘I hope you’re settling down nicely here—hmm?’
    ‘Settling down?’ She shrugged her shoulders slightly. ‘I don’t think we actually feel very settled. ’
    ‘I hope you soon will. I thought it was high time I took you on a little tour of Firenze’s more famous treasures. You might as well improve your education while you’re here. ’
    ‘You mean all of us?’ asked Victoria.
    ‘Naturally. I suppose Amanda and Sebastien have to be educated, too.’
    ‘I don’t think Sebastien is very keen about art treasures. He prefers cars and boats and motor bikes at present. But I’ll certainly ask him. Amanda and myself would like it very much.’
    ‘Then what about to-morrow? We could have a look at the Duomo and perhaps the Accademia museum before lunch, have lunch in a rather decent place I know, to revive you and prepare
    you for the Uffizi in the afternoon. How about that?’
    ‘That sounds wonderful,’ said Victoria. ‘Thank you very much. ’
    ‘O.K.,’ he said, with an air of dismissing her. ‘I think ten o’clock will be early enough in the morning. Now you go off for your walk and I’ll get back to my job.’
    She hesitated. She wanted to ask him to let her wander about the studio looking at things. But he had already turned away and picked up a great handful of clay which he began to puddle about in his fingers, regarding the work in front of him. So she said:
    ‘ Ciao ,’ she stepped outside, and his answering ‘ Ciao ’ sounded absent-minded already, as if he had forgotten all about her.
    Neither Amanda nor Sebastien received Victoria’s invitation with much enthusiasm when she returned from her walk, but neither refused to go. Victoria thought it would be a waste of time for Sebastien. Perhaps, next morning, she would find an excuse for him to absent himself.
    Sebastien did not wait for Victoria to find an excuse. As they sat at the breakfast table, the sun already very hot at that time of the morning, promising a clear, beautiful day in the country, but a very stuffy one in Firenze, he said, lavishly spreading a new roll with butter and honey:
    ‘I don’t want to look at art treasures, Vicki. I’d sooner stay here. Giorgio said he might come by this morning.’
    ‘Giorgio can come by any morning.’ She saw that Sebastien was taking on a mutinous look, and added:
    ‘Still, I don’t see why you should look at Michelangelo if it bores you. I’d be bored looking at old cars. I’ll make an excuse for you.’ ‘Oh, good,’ he said, infinitely relieved. ‘ As a matter of fact, I helped on the farm yesterday afternoon, and Giorgio said I could any time I felt like it—provided he was there. ’
    ‘And I don’t want to go,’ said Amanda. ‘I hate trailing round stuffy old picture galleries. I want to get on with my bird embroidery, I’ve just got the urge again to go on with it. ’
    ‘Well, it’s not very polite to Mr. Duncan when he’s making a bit of an effort for us,’ said Victoria, wondering if it was the mention of Giorgio’s possible arrival that made Amanda want to stay here.
    ‘He’s taken his time about it,’ said Sebastien drily. ‘Do you
    want to go, Vicki?’
    ‘Yes, I’d love to. I want to see what there is to see; and it’s much better to have a really knowledgeable guide. ’
    So Victoria only was waiting and ready at ten o’clock to go with Charles. Victoria in a sun-yellow dress with her hair tied back with a sun-yellow chiffon scarf, which wafted in the breeze. There was nobody to tell her that she was as pretty as a picture: her sister and brother were too used to her, Miss Jameson regarded her with detached appraisal, and Charles narrowed his eyes when he saw her, as if he were getting her into perspective, but said nothing. It was Victoria who spoke.
    ‘I’m afraid Sebastien and Amanda have gone on strike.’
    Charles looked at her questioningly.
    ‘Art is wasted on Sebastien. He’s at