And so was falling in love. Perhaps falling in love was part of life growing around her grief now.
She hoped it was the same for Dimitris.
St George was coming to life.
The shutters on the supermarket rolled up, and the delivery van with the bottled water arrived. Two people jogging along the beach said good morning as they passed Penny.
She stood up, her mind wandering happily with her feet along the water’s edge. Drawn back towards the harbour, she shielded her eyes from the already bright sun and peered across at the panorama to see if she could see any movement.
She hoped Tess would be there and they’d have time to share a coffee. She wanted to share with her some of the story of the evening before. The idea of being in Tess’s company appealed for her humour, compassion, and pure likability.
Penny felt a bond with the woman, who had so subtly and sensitively taken her under her wing when she’d first arrived. She was one of those on this special island who’d held out a hand and invited her to take it, when she was still struggling in the quicksand of grief.
Pausing as she reached the Athena, Penny felt herself smiling, suppressing the joy inside, as she remembered parting from Dimitris the night before.
On Firefly Lane, watched indifferently by sleepy lizards and stalking cats, he had kissed her again. It felt like a promise, part of a journey. Its sweetness spoke of tenderness, as well as need. As she kissed him back, she was saying, ‘Don’t give up. Be with me and we’ll be okay – we’ll be more than okay’.
Looking across at the harbour before stepping into the restaurant, where she could see Tess was already making herself a coffee, she spotted the Dora, making her way back home across the wine-dark sea.
The Snow White Villa near Cressida, with its wide veranda, walled garden, and wild flowers, was the last of the Durrells’ residences on Corfu.
Penny had always meant Kalami to be the final location of her pilgrimage, but now it felt so right to be here as her holiday came to a close. This was the place the Durrells had left from as the Second World War loomed.
It felt right too now to be wandering with Dimitris, looking for this place; a place that had more meaning, because now she felt she understood why they had loved this island so much.
The house lay behind walls and gates, private, settled in its foundations, keeping its secrets, holding to itself the memories of those who’d lived within its walls. An ornate, carved, alabaster-white edifice of beauty and charm.
‘Leaving’ as a word and an action now had less sting. The threat of going home felt hollow, unimportant. Penny realized that if you fell in love with a place or a person, they never really left you, or you them.
Wherever she was in the world, in her heart she would always be on Corfu and here, as she was now, with Dimitris and the Durrells.
Acknowledgements
This book wouldn’t have been written without the endless love, patience, and support of my family. From the first tentative words typed out in St George South, Corfu, in May 2019, they have been there for me. So, love and thanks to my dear husband David and our children, Geoff and Lizzy.
There have been many kindnesses, from people I already knew, but also from some I haven’t yet met in person. For this, I thank you and will be eternally grateful.
Love to my understanding and supportive colleagues at the XP Trust.
My thanks to dear Annabelle Louvros of the Corfu Literary Festival and the wonderfully kind and helpful Liz Fenwick.
To my friends in St George South, Corfu, much love.
To Rose, Bengono, and the rest of the team at HarperInspire, my deep gratitude and appreciation. My sincere thanks also to Gale for her brilliant editing work.
During the writing of this book, it has been a real pleasure to chat with Tracy and Nick Breeze, Margo Durrell’s grandchildren. I hope they like it and feel it captures some of the spirit of their remarkable family’s time on Corfu.
Finally, I would like to acknowledge the amazing work of Dr Lee Durrell, the renowned naturalist and author, and wife of the late Gerald Durrell. She has my ongoing admiration and respect. Lee was kind enough to correspond with me, so that I could share with her the story of the book.
This book was written because of a world and a time that was captured and immortalized by the Durrells. My life, and that of many others, has been richer because they were here.
Looking for the Durrells Page 24