Bel looked at Heitor’s exhilarated expression and followed in his wake as he walked swiftly out of the gallery.

‘You are happy to make your way home from here alone, Izabela?’

‘Of course,’ she replied. Heitor nodded at her, then walked off at a brisk pace away from her.

22

‘Bienvenue, Mademoiselle Izabela.’ Laurent walked towards her and kissed her on both cheeks as she entered the atelier with Margarida. ‘First we shall brew some coffee together. And Mademoiselle Margarida,’ he said as she walked past them to don her smock, ‘the professor says that the left elbow of your sculpture needs work, but overall, it was a good attempt.’

‘Thank you,’ Margarida called back. ‘From the professor, that is a compliment indeed.’

‘Now, Izabela,’ said Laurent, ‘come with me and show me how you would brew coffee in your own country. Strong and dark, I’m sure,’ he said as he grabbed her hand and pulled her through to the tiny kitchen. Taking a brown paper bag from one of the shelves, he opened it and smelt its contents. ‘Brazilian beans freshly ground this morning from a shop I know in Montparnasse. I bought it especially to help relax you and remind you of home.’

Bel inhaled the aroma, and was sent flying over five thousand miles back across the seas.

‘So, show me how you like it,’ he insisted as he handed her a teaspoon and stood back so that she could continue.

Bel waited for the water to boil on the small hob, not wanting to admit she had never made a cup of coffee in her life. The servants performed this task at home.

‘Do you have cups?’ she ventured.

‘Of course,’ he said, reaching into a cupboard and pulling out two enamel mugs. ‘My apologies that they are not made of delicate china. But the coffee will taste the same anyway.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed nervously, as she spooned some coffee into the mugs.

‘Actually, mademoiselle,’ he said with a gentle smile, as he reached up to a shelf and pulled down a small silver pot, ‘we use this to make coffee here.’

Bel blushed in embarrassment at her mistake as he transferred the coffee grounds from the mugs to the pot and added hot water. ‘So, once this has brewed, we will sit together and talk.’

A few minutes later Laurent led her back into the studio, where Margarida was already sitting at a bench, working on her sculpture. Picking up a sketch pad, he guided her to the trestle table and benches where they had sat for lunch before, and pulled the curtain closed behind them.

‘Please, sit there.’ He indicated that she should sit opposite him. So’ – he lifted his mug – ‘you will talk to me of your life in Brazil.’

Bel stared at him in surprise. ‘Why would you wish me to talk of Brazil?’

‘Because, mademoiselle, currently you sit facing me like a beam of wood stiff with the tension of holding up a roof for one hundred years. I want you to relax, so that I can see the muscles in your face soften, your lips lose their tension and your eyes light up. If I cannot, then the sculpture will be the worse for it. Do you understand?’