Mark Gatiss - The Vesuvius Club

The train-fearer was delighted to be remembered. After an exchange of pleasantries, I stepped forward and he inclined his head slightly at the sight of me. It was like being observed by some great patient snake. The lenses of the indigo spectacles prevented even a hint of his expression from being visible.

«This is Mr Lucifer Box,» said Lady Constance. «The famous painter.»

«Oh, you flatter me,» I oiled. «Your Grace.»

I bowed and clicked my heels. He did likewise.

«Tiepolo,» I said. «I’m afraid I do not know the province…»

«One of the more ancient duchies,» he said, with a smile. The voice was quiet but assured, like a great and well-maintained engine using but a fraction of its true power.

He turned to Bella.

«Miss Bella Pok,» announced Lady Constance.

He took her hand in his great paw without hesitation. «I’m afraid, your Grace,» she cooed, «that I know very little of the history of your country…»

«Oh, my unhappy country!» said the Duce, raising his hands palms outward and smiling in mock-anguish. «But now, here, is not the time to be remembering old sorrows. Perhaps if you would do me the honour of dining with me…?»

Bella’s eyes flashed.

I moved with the speed of a jealous panther. If you’ve ever seen one, you’ll know. «Your Grace,» I interrupted, «I would consider it a great honour if you would consent to sit for a portrait.»

The Duce’s mouth pinched in displeasure. «This is impossible, alas. I am leaving most soon for the Continent. Besides, a painting …» He gave a little shrug. «I was saying to our friend Mr Miracle — where is he by the way? — is not painting most… old-fashioned?»

Lady Constance leant forward. «The Duce is a photographic enthusiast.»

«Is he, by George?» I said, nettled. «Well, in that case I should hate to bother him with such a trifle as a portrait in oils.»

Bella shot me an odd look.

«You are going to the Continent, you say, your Grace?» I said airily.

«Yes.»

«Back to Italy?»

The great man’s face darkened.

I put my fingers to my lips as though to hush them. «Of course not! How silly of me! They wouldn’t take too kindly to seeing anyone from the old days, would they? Where do you spend your exile?»

«Well, if you will excuse me, Lady Constance,» he began. «Miss Pok…»

«I have myself some little knowledge of those days,» I interrupted. The champagne was, I fear, beginning to tell. «My father told me all about it. Italy was in a parlous state back then, Bella. Wasn’t really Italy at all, to speak of. Ruled by the Frogs, the Spanish, even the ruddy Austrians — saving your presence, Lady C.»

The Duce gazed levelly at me. «It was a troubled time. But we could have survived as we were. If not for Signor Giuseppe Garibaldi…»

«You may know the biscuit,» I said in an undertone to Bella. «He pulled the country together, didn’t he, under King What’s-his-name. Yes. I’m off there tomorrow myself, as a matter of fact. I’ll send them your regards, hmm?»

The Duce’s lips set into a grim line. «You will excuse me. I must… that is, I…»

He seemed genuinely put out. Making a little bow to the ladies, he melted away into the crowd.

«Well!» said Bella.

«Hmm?»

«I thought you were rather rude to that poor wanderer.»

I flashed a cheeky smile at Lady Constance and she, giggling girlishly, waved back at me. Then I took Bella by the elbow and steered her towards the balcony. «My dear Bella, these pompous so-called aristos are all alike. It won’t do him a bit of harm to be reminded that he’s the ex-Duke of an ex-duchy. He’ll go home and kick his valet in all probability, but that’s scarcely our concern. Now, I suggest a little air to clear away the fug of his rhetoric. Besides, I found that I didn’t take to the idea at all of someone else dining with you.»

She cocked her head to one side impishly and gave me the benefit of her most devastating smile.

We walked through the French windows and out on to the warm terrace. Balustraded steps led down on either side to Miracle’s vast gardens.

«It’s very beautiful in the moonlight,» said Bella, gazing out at the hedges and fountains.

«Mmm,» I concurred. «By day this place is a riot of colour. I once painted Lady Constance against the bougainvillaea over there.»

«Did she like it?»

«She was chuff-chuffed.»

Bella giggled, then shivered a little and I slipped out of my coat.

«Allow me.»

She took the coat and draped it about her shoulders. «Perhaps you would care to paint me one day?»

«You wouldn’t prefer the Duke to photograph you?»

«There’s no beauty in chemicals and paper, Lucifer,» she murmured.

«Indeed not. I would… I would consider it a very great honour to paint you, Bella. How would you like it done?»

«Perhaps I could be Jeanne d’Arc… or Helen,» she said, thrusting her shoulders back and lifting up that fine, proud head.

«In Troy? Or being ravished by Zeus? Oh no, that was Leda wasn’t it?»

I moved just a fraction closer to her. A tiny pulse was beating in her throat.

«I think I should like that,» she said quietly.

«To be painted or to be…»

«Ravished?» She laughed her charming, tinkling laugh. She did not move away as my arm brushed hers. «Zeus was fond of all that, was he not? Forever appearing as swans or showers of gold…»

«I know so little about you,» I said suddenly, «but I do not wish to pry.»

«Pry away.»

«You really are Miss Pok?»

«I really am. I was engaged once. To a count, would you believe?»

I looked at her in the starlight. Her eyes glittered like fragments of amethyst. I could believe princes, kings and emperors might lose their wits over her.

«I must confess that I have posed for a portrait before.»

«Oh yes?»

«Yes. The Count. He paid for a portrait.»

«How did it come out?»

«Indifferently.»

«And what about the Count? How did he come out?»

«Equally indifferently.»

«My dear,» I began, taking her hand, «I am distressed beyond measure to have to go away.»

«To Italy?»

I nodded.

«Business or pleasure?»

I looked down and contemplated her delicate, gloved hand. «Oh, business only. Nothing but the most vital business would take me away from you at this juncture.»

«You would rather stay in London?»

«I would rather stay with you,» I said quietly. «And continue your… instruction.»

I reached out and took her hand in mine. She turned, the curve of her cheek illumined like a crescent moon. Her lips parted and I could feel the warmth of her breath.

All at once, there came the crunch of running footsteps on the gravel below and a figure lolloped towards the terrace. Both of us turned at the sight of him, his handsome face flushed, his cravat all askew. It was Christopher Miracle!

He clattered up the steps and stopped, swaying slightly, when he clapped eyes on me.

«Box!» he cried.

«Miracle! Where the devil have you been? Lady Constance has been manfully holding the fort»

«Thank God you are here! You must help me! Dear God, it is terrible! Terrible!»

I laid a hand upon his arm. «My dear Christopher! What is it? What has happened?»

He shot a glance at Bella.

«Miss Pok,» I said calmly, «perhaps it would be better if you returned to the party»

She shook her head. «I would far rather be of assistance, if I can.»

Miracle gripped my arm. «She’s vanished and they think I have something to do with it!»

«Who has vanished?» asked Bella with a concerned frown.

«Come, Christopher. Let’s get you somewhere warm. Bella, would you check there’s no one observing?»