The Art of Deception by Louise Mangos
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB |1.0 Mb
The Art of Deception : Art college drop-out Lucie arrives in a Swiss ski resort looking for work – but instead finds Mathieu. Handsome, charismatic and from a good family, Matt seems like the perfect man. But as Lucie soon discovers, he has a dark side – one which will drive their relationship to a dramatic conclusion, and tear the life she has built for herself and their son apart. Left fighting for her freedom in a hostile foreign prison, and starting to lose her grip on reality, Lucie must summon all of her strength to uncover the truth, and be reunited with her son before it’s too late. The clock is ticking . . . but who can she trust?
“I see you have thrilling plans for this evening,’ she said not unkindly, pointing her chin at my book. ‘Well I’m going to change them. I don’t feel like going to the bar tonight before dinner, but I need some wine and I don’t want to drink alone.’
She pulled a bottle from the bag with a packet of pretzels and a tub of olives.
‘My boyfriend and his mother are disagreeing over one of my pieces, and I’ve left them to it.’
I fetched two glasses from the shelf in the bathroom and brought them back to the dorm. As Anne emptied the rest of her bag, I studied the posters tacked to the wall above her bed. A Hodler print hung next to a photo of a Giacometti sculpture; one of his classic tall thin bronze men. Beyond them she had pinned up her own photos of the surrounding mountains, glowing with sunsets or sunrises, and one spectacular shot of a sea of cloud filling the valley against a striking purple sky.
‘You’re an artist?’ I asked over the noise of the pretzel packet being opened and the lid screeching off the plastic olive container.
‘If you consider photography an art.’
She handed me the bottle of wine and a corkscrew.
‘Of course,’ I said.
‘I love contemporary Swiss artists, as you can see. A salute to my fellow countrymen. Photography is more my own passion, a hobby inspired by our environment. My boyfriend François’ father owns the Grand Hotel in the village where he works, and they recently agreed to hang some of my photos in one of their conference rooms. But they don’t seem to want my advice as to which ones. It was as though I wasn’t even there,’ she said crossly. ‘Are you also interested in art?’
She nodded towards the posters on the wall, curiosity quashing her irritation.”