Page 124 of A Night with Damien Spur

Ariana picked up her guitar and kissed his cheek. ‘You don’t trust me yet. That alpha-male armour is closed around your heart. But next time it will become easier. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Dusk on the river will be beautiful,’ she said, and left.

Damien was exhausted. His mind was frayed. He didn’t sleep well that night.

What the hell is she going to try next?said the Voice. I tell you, she’s a brainwasher.

‘Well, it’s a new adventure.’ Damien reached for his alarm clock and set it for 8 a.m. A morning run would clear his head.

‘Please let me get some sleep. Give me some space. Or I’ll start omming.’

Okay,said the Voice,but it’s all a bit LA to me.All this malarkey just for a few corny lines.

‘Come on. She’s great. A real turn-on,’ Damien said.

And she was funny. The following evening, she came dressed as a troubadour and serenaded him from the pavement.

Damien leant out of the balcony window. The night was warm. The sunset cast its gossamer orange light over the sky as it descended into dusk.

Magic can happen at any time.

Damien was in the moment, part of the cosmos. That unexpected happiness when everything comes together, as rare as a shooting star.

Even the Voice was silent.

A group of passers-by had gathered. They stood bewitched as Ariana cast her spell. When the song ended, there was a hush. And then the spell was broken as the people clapped and cheered.

Ariana looked up at Damien, her eyes glittering diamond bright.

‘Thisis how love feels!’ she said. ‘Write with passion. Be Sandra! Leave a lasting memory for Samuel, your great love. It’s okay, you can be vulnerable with me. Find your feminine energy! You know who your characters are. You understand Sandra – she’s part of you.’

The onlookers clapped again.

Ariana sat on the bonnet of Damien’s Jaguar and continued to talk in soothing tones as she gently strummed low chords on her guitar.

‘She loves Samuel, but he’s going to leave her, go back to his wife, who needs him more than she does. Sandra is a powerful woman, the darling of her generation. But to be left by the man you love is a terrible thing. Finally, through the song, she persuades him to stay. She has kept love alive. So when it is she who disappears, that is the mystery.’

Watch it, the Voice said.She’smessing with your head. But, then again, that’s probably a good thing in the circumstances.

Damien could only hear a faint whisper.

Arianahad fused his mind. He took out his notebook.

His heart beat in time with her rhythmic chords. Up, up he went, and then his pen flew.

He didn’t have to think. He only had to follow.

Art, music, poetry, dance, born of the same magic.

She had kindled the flame.

You’re getting there, Damien,said the Voice.Clever Ariana.

He wrote the first verse, tore off the page and made an aeroplane. Caught by a summer breeze, it wafted down into the palm of his muse. She put it in her pocket, blew him a kiss and walked away.

Chapter 40

Seven dresses, plus the Dolce & Gabbana poppy print, pale-blue silk palazzo pants and a silver knitted vest, six T-shirts, two pairs of shorts, four bikinis, a black swimsuit, three pairs of shoes, two sandals, a pair of trainers, not to mention the La Perla underwear (just in case), two sun hats…

Oh, and the brushes, watercolours, inks and paper, of course. A quick call to the Grants, David and Suzanna, who had a villa in St Paul de Vence.

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