‘Nico, she’s here, now, and you need to do this face to face. You can’t wait another three or four months. A lot can happen in that time and Isabel will be working hard on your behalf, building your reputation and getting your name out there. She’s putting a lot on the line for you; you owe her the truth and once she understands—’

His eyes blaze. ‘No one understands. I worked for Isabel’s father doing menial jobs around their property to earn enough to buy the supplies I needed to paint. I helped their gardener, raking leaves in autumn and deadheading flowers in the summer. It’s bad enough she knew of my father; thankfully, my mother was well-loved and respected for her kindness and sense of community. But even she became reclusive and stopped inviting people into our home. This is one step too far for me, Fern. You must leave it alone.’

We’re facing each other, and I can see he thinks I’ve overstepped the mark. He’s angry with me.

‘I know you don’t want to hear this, Nico. But I’m begging you to reconsider your decision. It will clear the air and restore Isabel’s belief in you, that you can rise to the challenge. This isn’t solely about putting you on display and I don’t know why you can’t see that?’

His face is stony. ‘I came here to escape all of that. Maybe it’s a price I’m not prepared to pay.’ The icy tone is a warning.

‘Then you’re not the man I thought you were, or who Isabel believes you to be,’ I point out as I finish putting away my brushes. ‘I can’t decide whether you’re being petulant, or arrogant – neither is warranted, or even appropriate. There are plenty of artists who would give anything for the opportunity you are turning down without so much as a passing thought.’

‘You think it’s that easy? There’s so much you don’t know. Isabel wears the wedding ring of her dead husband five years after he’s been gone. He turned her from a warm-hearted young girl into a cool-headed businesswoman. If I tell her everything, she will walk away and that will ruin my career. Even the merest whisper of an association with fraudulent activity in the art world means doors would be slammed shut forever. For her and for myself.’

I look at him, horrified. ‘Isabel is in love with you, Nico. How can you not see that in the way she looks at you? The way she’s been prepared to sweep aside her concerns and support you regardless of what her head is telling her? What you are doing by keeping this from her is wrong and unfair, Nico.’