‘The Uffizi Gallery was built by order of Cosimo the first, the Grand Duke of Tuscany,’ said Francesca’s booming voice through the headset.
Cosimo again, I thought.
‘It was built on the site of an ancient church. If you look here, inside this glass, you can see the ancient floor and the altar.’
I paused to look down beneath my feet at some stoneruins. When I looked up, Francesca and Aidan were way ahead and I had to hurry to catch them up. As we turned to go up another steep staircase, I could hear Francesca huffing and puffing in my earpiece, which was quite disconcerting when I couldn’t actually see her! At the top of the stairs, I found them again.
‘The gallery was designed by Giorgio Vasari. It is the second most important art gallery in the world. Maddie, can you tell me which is the number one most important art gallery in the world?’
It was like being back at the wine tasting all over again.
I held my hands up: my general knowledge really wasn’t very good. ‘Um, the Louvre?’ I guessed.
‘Correct!’ said Francesca. ‘The Louvre is the most important art gallery in the world and it is in fact twenty-four times bigger than the Uffizi.’
‘Wow,’ said Aidan. ‘No wonder the only thing I remember about it is the Mona Lisa.’
‘Same,’ I said.
‘It is very intimidating, no? Even here in the Uffizi, you cannot see it all in one day,’ noted Francesca.
We were now in the first-floor corridor, which had the most perfect light streaming in through the windows on the right-hand side. On the ceiling were wood panels as far as the eye could see, each containing an ornate set of hand-painted frescoes.
Aidan stood alongside me.
‘I was thinking about you last night,’ he said.
Francesca was telling us about a series of paintings of popes, kings and queens.
‘Were you?’ I asked, keeping it casual, pretending to be mesmerised by the paintings on the ceiling.
His arm brushed against mine and it was as though everysingle nerve-ending in my body was suddenly standing on end.
We moved around the gallery, stopping to look at beautiful paintings and sculptures, some of them over six hundred years old, with Francesca enthusiastically explaining the fascinating history behind them. An hour passed in what felt like a split second and part of me didn’t want to ruin the experience by hearing Aidan’s explanation for what had happened in the past. Because whatever it was, it wasn’t going to change anything, was it? But as we followed Francesca into another room, stopping in front of a painting of seven different women sitting on a medieval throne, I had the feeling that it was now or never.
‘This is theSeven Virtues,’ said Francesca, who was standing just in front of us. ‘Faith,Hope,Charity,Temperance,Prudence,FortitudeandJustice.’
‘I’m not sure I possess any of those,’ Aidan whispered to me.
‘I’m not sure you do, either,’ I agreed, only half-joking.
I’d begun to remember what it had been like to be with him. How funny he was, how naturally the conversation flowed. This was not good.
‘Six of these paintings are by the artist Piero del Pollaiuolo,’ said Francesca. ‘But one is the first work by Botticelli. I will be very happy with you if you can correctly guess which one.’
I stared at them. To me, one popped out immediately. It drew me in. The woman’s dress was so detailed and clear, and her face looked more three-dimensional than the others.’
‘That one,’ I said, pointing at the first panel.
Francesca patted me on the shoulder. ‘You are right, Maddie, well done. This isFortitudeand it was painted by Sandro Botticelli in 1470.’
‘You’re better at art than you are at wine,’ commented Aidan.
‘Seems so. By the way, did you doodle bananas to help me out?’
‘Maybe,’ he said, smiling at me.
I nodded. ‘Thank you.’