Free The Golden Madonna by Rebecca Stratton

her absence that morning. He spoke close to her ear, his words almost lost in the general hubbub around them. 'Where were you this morning during the teaching session?' he asked, and Sally shrugged resignedly.
    She had much rather he had not asked her, particularly when it would mean her being evasive about Miguel Cordova's appearance. 'Did you miss me?' she asked, hoping to avoid having to be too specific.
    'Of course I did,' Michael told her. 'And so did the Maestro.'
    Her fellow students' use of that rather pretentious title for their host always irritated Sally, perhaps unreasonably, but somehow she could never bring herself to use it. 'I gathered he did, when he came to find me,' she said. She did not look at Michael, but carefully extracted a morsel of delicious zarzuela de pescado from its coating of butter, herbs and sauce, trying to identify the fish before popping it into her mouth.
    'Good God!' Michael breathed, evidently in awe. 'But where on earth were you?'
    'Down on the rocks, below the driveway,' Sally told him. 'I sat there trying to do some work, but without success, needless to say.'
    'But why, for heaven's sake, darling?' he asked. 'You must be crazy!'
    'Possibly,' she agreed, a little tartly. 'But it was better than being lectured. I just wasn't in the mood for being taught.'
    He looked puzzled, and for a moment Sally felt rather sorry for him. He would never see the need to escape from Miguel Cordova's constant criticism. He would never be disturbed in the same way that she was, by the man himself, and she could not explain to him, or even try.
    'Sally darling,' he said slowly, his own meal forgotten for the moment, 'you can't mean that you deliberately missed out on a teaching session, can you?'
    'I mean just that,' Sally assured him. 'Not for the first time, either,' she added. 'I'm surprised you haven't missed me.'
    'I have,' he replied absently, still trying to believe that her absences had been deliberate. 'But do you mean he actually took the trouble to come and find you?'
    She nodded. 'That's right.'
    'But what on earth did he say?'
    'What could he say?' Sally asked, beginning to quite enjoy shocking him. No one, she felt sure had ever treated Miguel Cordova in such a casual, offhand manner before, and Michael's reaction was doing something to restore her self-confidence. 'We had an argument, and I said I'd leave.'
    'Oh no!' He looked so utterly dismayed that she was tempted to laugh. Though whether it was her own possible departure or her defiance of his hero that worried him most she had yet to discover. 'You promised the other day,' he reminded her. 'You promised you wouldn't leave, darling.'
    'I know I did,' Sally told him. 'But you don't realise what I have to put up with from that man. I object to being treated like a half-wit. Anyway,' she added, returning to her meal, 'you needn't worry, I changed my mind about going.'
    He leaned over and lightly kissed the tip of her ear. 'I'm glad,' he told her. 'You mustn't be so touchy, darling.'
    'Touchy!' Sally looked at him reproachfully, then realised that it was unlikely he would realise just how vulnerable she was with a man like Miguel Cordova. She sighed. 'I decided to stay and show him I can paint,' she said, 'however much of a sadistic bully he is!'
    'Sally!'
    'Well, he is,' she insisted. She spoke as quietly as she could because she did not want Dona Alicia to hear what she felt about her famous son. It could only hurt her, even if it was true. She turned her head and looked at Michael's blue eyes, round and blank with disbelief, trying hard to restrain her impatience. Michael was such an ardent disciple that he would never understand her own dislike of the man. In fact no man could ever understand the chaos of emotions that Miguel Cordova aroused in her. 'I'm sorry I don't share your blind adoration of him,' she said, more calmly.
    'It isn't blind adoration,' Michael denied. 'He's a brilliant artist, darling, everyone knows that.'
    'No one