Betrothed: To the People’s Prince

by Marion Lennox

  He didn’t know why. He intended to find out, but for now…He was inexplicably glad she’d worn his jacket home.

  How could she explain a man’s jacket to the unknown Nicholas and Oscar? Unaccountably, he found himself smiling. He hoped they were good to her. Yeah, that was a rational thought. Generous, even.

  But…she had to come back to the island, even if it meant she brought this unknown Oscar and Nicholas with her. Though their existence could make things much more complicated.

  Whatever. Tomorrow could be faced tomorrow, he told himself, trying to block out the unwanted image of Athena with another man by her side. Trying to block out how it made him feel. After all this time, surely jealousy was crazy.

  Of course it was.

  He kissed his daughter softly on the forehead, the touch and scent of her soft little body helping him put things into perspective.

  ‘Goodnight, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll have a good time tomorrow; just see if we don’t. And then we’ll persuade the Princess Athena to come home. Where we belong and where she belongs, too.’

  In the morning the sun finally decided to shine. Nikos and his little daughter did the circuit of Central Park twice, and then they did it again. Christa’s unalloyed happiness, the sun on her face, the beauty of the horses, the garishness of the decoration on the buggy…she loved it. She clung to him, breathless with excitement, laughing out loud for sheer joy.

  Halfway through their third circuit he saw Athena.

  And a dog.

  And a child.

  How could it be? How could fate be this cruel?

  Why on earth had she decided to come to a tourist destination this morning?

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  They’d been using their ball-thrower. Dogs were supposed to be on leads here, but she knew a place…most dog owners did. So they’d tossed the ball until Oscar was out of puff. Nicky had run more than the dog. Oscar wasn’t the brightest light on the Christmas tree, so about half the time it had been Nicky who’d had to retrieve it. Finally they’d bought ice cream cones and now they were waiting for Oscar to finish his before they walked home.

  Oscar, a big, lumbering bear of canine dopiness, took his ice cream eating seriously.

  A horse and buggy was wheeling briskly along the path towards them. The horses looked gorgeous, she thought. The day was gorgeous, making up for last night’s misery. She was dumb to be anxious on a day like this.

  She chuckled at Oscar’s pink nose.

  The buggy grew closer. The driver raised his crop in salute. It was that sort of day.

  She smiled. She waved back.

  And then she saw who was in the buggy.

  Nikos.

  And a child?

  The sounds around them faded. Everything faded.

  She heard Nikos’s snapped order as if it came from a distance. The buggy stopped. Nikos climbed down, paid the driver and lifted the little girl down after him.

  The child was little and dark and beautifully dressed, in a pink dress with a wide pink bow, white socks edged with pink lace and shiny pink shoes. A pink Alice band held back her glossy black hair. Shoulder-length with bangs.

  Smiling and smiling.

  Down’s syndrome.

  The little girl laughed as Nikos swung her down, and Nikos laughed back.

  Athena’s heart did a back flip. Landed upside down, somewhere else in her chest than where it should be.

  Down’s syndrome…

  Her aunt’s letter came back to her.

  ‘A little girl for Nikos and Marika…’

  ‘Hi,’ she managed, and if her voice came out a squeak she couldn’t help it.

  ‘Hi,’ Nikos said back. He sounded as incredulous as she was-and as wary. The horse and buggy bowled on, leaving Nikos and his daughter on the verge of the path.

  Nikos wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Nicky.

  Nicky, who was the spitting image of his father-a mirror image of the younger Nikos.

  Father…and son.

  She should have…she should have…

  It was too late for should haves. The time was now.

  ‘This is Christa,’ Nikos said at last, and his voice seemed to come from a distance. ‘Christa, this is my friend, Athena.’

  ‘Dog,’ Christa said in Greek, still smiling. Pointing to Oscar. ‘Ice…Ice cream.’

  The ice cream vendor was right behind them. ‘Would…would you like an ice cream, Christa?’ Athena asked, and then thought desperately, what if she had a dairy allergy. What if…

  ‘Yes,’ Christa said, very firmly. She looked up at her father, searched for another word and found it. ‘Please.’

  She smiled again. She was gorgeous, Athena thought, and suddenly found she was blinking back tears. Nikos was holding his little daughter’s hand with pride. With tenderness. With love.

  ‘Ice cream, Papa?’ Christa asked and Nikos nodded. He hadn’t taken his eyes from Nicky.

  ‘Introduce us,’ he said.

  ‘This is Nicky,’ she said, trying to find the right words. And then, because she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea-even if there was no denying the wrong idea was right-she added quickly, ‘Nicholas.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said. Non-committal. ‘And the dog?’

  ‘Oscar.’ She turned away-fast. ‘I’ll buy Christa a cone. Would you like one?’

  ‘No. Thank you.’

  It took time to get the cone. There were people queuing ahead of her. Then she thought she should have asked Christa what she wanted. But somehow…she knew. Strawberry.

  And she was right. ‘Pink,’ Christa said with huge pleasure. She looked at the bench where Nicky and Oscar were seated. ‘Sit,’ she said.

  Nicky smiled and shifted, just slightly, so there was room for Christa to sit between him and Oscar.

  Athena thought, I’m going to cry.

  She was not going to cry.

  Still Nikos said nothing. Neither did she. Words were too big. Or too small. There was nothing to fill this silence.

  Finally Nikos found words that might do. For now. Filler words. ‘It’s good to meet you, Nicholas. Is Oscar your dog or your mother’s?’

  ‘Mine,’ Nicky said and she thought, great question. Generally shy, discussions of Oscar made Nicky blossom.

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘We’re not sure. He was in our street one day when we came home. He was dirty and really, really hungry. We took him to the animal shelter ’cos Mama said someone might be looking for him, but no one wanted him so we got him back. I called him Oscar ’cos Mama told me she had a dog called Oscar when she was little. Before my Mama’s mama died.’

  ‘I remember Oscar,’ Nikos said softly, gravely. ‘He was great. If your Oscar’s like him he must be really special.’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘Does he eat everything like that?’ Oscar was still licking, stretching the experience for as long as he could. Nicky had chosen a rainbow ice cream for him and he’d wedged it between the planks on the bench. Oscar had a paw on either side of the cone so it couldn’t tip. His nose colour had changed now to green.

  ‘He enjoys his pleasures, does Oscar,’ Athena said, and Nikos finally looked at her. Really looked at her.

  The look would stay with her all her life, she thought numbly. Disbelief. Awe. Anger. And raw, undisguised pain.

  ‘He is, isn’t he?’ he asked, and there was only one way to answer that.

  ‘He is.’

  He closed his eyes.

  Where to go from here?

  ‘You can’t do this, Thena,’ he said, and his voice was suddenly harsh. ‘No more. You walked away with this…’

  ‘I didn’t know.’ It was a cry of pain but she knew it was no excuse.

  ‘You walked away. And now…’ He paused, took a deep breath, then another. ‘Leave it,’ he said and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to her. ‘I can’t take it in. Just come back to the island and we’ll sort it there. We need to
get the succession in place. If you don’t come home the island will be ruined. How selfish can you be?’

  ‘Selfish?’ She would have gasped if she hadn’t felt so winded. ‘Me? Selfish.’ Then, before she could stop herself she produced the question that had slammed at her heart for almost ten years. ‘How old is Christa?’

  ‘Nine.’

  ‘And her birthday is when?’

  ‘June.’

  ‘So there you go,’ she snapped, the old, stupid grief welling up in her all over again. ‘Nicky’s nine and he was born in September. What does that tell you, Nikos?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he snapped. ‘Except that you should have told me.’

  ‘So maybe you should have asked. When I left…there was nothing.’

  ‘You told me not to follow.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to believe me,’ she yelled-really yelled-and everyone looked at her. Even Oscar. Christa’s ice cream started to drip on the side she wasn’t licking. Nikos automatically stooped and turned it around for her, wiping her chin before it dripped on her dress.

  It was a tiny gesture but, for some stupid reason, the sight of it cut through her anger and made her want to weep again.

  ‘It’s time we went home,’ she whispered, and Nicky looked up at her in surprise.

  ‘We were going to walk right round.’

  ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘I’m not,’ he said, clearly astonished.

  ‘Tell you what,’ Nikos said. ‘Why don’t we compromise. Nicky, I’m from the island where your mother was born. I know your mama just shouted at me, but maybe that’s because…because we both got a shock. Your mother and I have known each other since we were children, but this is the first time I’ve been to New York.’

  ‘Yes…’ Nicky said, not sure where this conversation was going.

  ‘What if Christa stays here with your mama? Christa gets tired easily-she has a problem with her heart that makes her tired. But she’ll be happy here with a dog and an ice cream. So your mama and Christa can rest here. Christa can finish her ice cream and you can show me all the way round.’

  Nicky looked doubtfully at his mother. She was too numb to respond.

  ‘Thene,’ Nikos said urgently, and she tried to pull herself together. What was he asking? Fine, she decided. Anything. The gods would have to take control from now on. She couldn’t.

  ‘Can I take Oscar?’ Nicky asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Nikos said.

  ‘You really knew my mother when she was little?’ her son asked.

  ‘When she was Princess Athena,’ Nikos told him. ‘Your mother needs to be Princess Athena again. Come with me and I’ll tell you why. Will Oscar come with us?’

  Nicky was looking at her. Waiting for her approval.

  What did it matter? She was no longer in control here. She knew nothing.

  ‘Fine,’ she said weakly. ‘Take…take your time. Christa and I will look at the zoo.’

  She sat on the bench and watched Christa finish her ice cream, and the desire to weep grew almost overwhelming.

  What was it with men? How could she have thrown those two birth dates together and have Nikos react without the slightest regret? Or shame. Or guilt.

  He’d called her selfish for leaving the island. She’d told him she wanted to leave for an exciting job in New York and he’d looked at her with shock and disbelief-and he’d let her walk away.

  But if he knew the true reason…That if she’d stayed his family would be ruined. That the old King had threatened everything Nikos loved if she stayed. How could he never have guessed?

  He’d never, ever asked. He’d never so much as written. And, when she’d learned of Christa’s birth, she knew the reason why he hadn’t.

  Her fingers were clenched into her palms so hard they hurt.

  ‘Papa,’ Christa said suddenly, as if she’d just realised Nikos was gone. She looked worried.

  This wasn’t Christa’s fault. She had no right to let her own misery and confusion spread to this little girl. ‘He’ll be back soon,’ she said gently.

  ‘Papa.’

  ‘There’s a little zoo just near here. Do you like animals?’

  The little girl considered. ‘Big?’ she asked.

  ‘Little. Funny animals. Friends.’

  ‘Friends,’ Christa said and put out a hand for Athena to help her to her feet. She smoothed her dress, tucked a sticky hand into Athena’s and had another lick of her ice cream. ‘Friends.’

  There were so many questions…Where to start? An inquisition could be a good way to send Nicky straight back to his mother.

  ‘Where do you go to school?’ he asked, and then thought, great, very insightful. Not.

  ‘Over there,’ the little boy told him, pointing south east.

  Good. That got him places. ‘Do you like school?’

  ‘Sometimes. I hafta go to Greek lessons after school, too.’

  ‘You speak Greek?’

  ‘Mama does. She makes me.’

  He needed time to take that one in.

  They walked along. Kicking stones. Nikos suddenly realised…He was kicking stones in front of him. So was Nicky. With his left foot.

  ‘You’re left-handed?’

  ‘Mmm,’ Nicky said.

  ‘Your mama’s right-handed.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  Riveting stuff. Both being left-handed. It meant nothing.

  It meant everything.

  ‘Has your mother told you about Argyros?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Are you a fisherman?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I like boats.’

  ‘Have you been on boats?’

  ‘Twice. I don’t get seasick. Mama does. This is the place where a Beatle was shot.’

  ‘Right,’ Nikos said. He gave up. There were too many questions for one small boy to handle.

  There were too many questions for him to handle.

  They were sitting right where he’d left them, only Christa had replaced her ice cream with a hand puppet. A squirrel.

  She wiggled it as they approached, her face lighting up as she saw him.

  ‘Thena bought…me…squirrel.’ He grinned and swung her up into his arms. No matter what else was happening here, this mustn’t touch her. That had been his mantra for almost ten years and he wasn’t budging now.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said gravely to Athena.

  ‘We didn’t get all the way round,’ Nicky said. ‘We caught another buggy. Nikos says John was his favourite Beatle. He was yours too, wasn’t he, Mama?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, sounding repressive.

  ‘Imagine,’ he said softly and watched her wince.

  It had been the last night they’d been together. ‘I have to go away,’ she’d said, but she’d sobbed and clung.

  He hadn’t understood why she had to leave. She’d completed her university degree by correspondence, far younger than most. Her writing was brilliant. Everyone said so. She could take a job with the local paper and write the novel to end all novels. They’d agreed. She could stand by him in his battle with Giorgos.

  That was what they’d planned, but suddenly she was crumpled, broken, sobbing about having to leave.

  ‘I need to go. I just need to go. Please, Nikos, don’t make it any harder.’

  He’d thought it was her writing that was driving her. ‘You’ll come back?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t. Nikos…’

  She’d run out of words. He’d been angry, shocked, bewildered.

  That night in his family’s boatshed…Their last night. He’d played music by John Lennon on his tinny little sound system.

  Imagine…

  He thought now: Nicky must have been conceived that night.

  No matter. He had to get rid of the white noise. There was only one absolute. ‘You need to come home,’ he told her.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then Demos wins.’ He made an almost superhuman effort to rid himself of his emotional tangle and concentrat
e on what was important. ‘I need to go home tomorrow,’ he said. ‘I thought I had a week to persuade you, but Demos has already contacted mining companies. He’s acting as if he owns the place. I daren’t stay longer. But it’s your birthright, Athena. And,’ he added, ‘it’s your son’s.’

  ‘And your…’

  ‘And my daughter’s,’ he finished for her, harshly. For maybe she was going places he wasn’t ready to go just yet. ‘Our children’s. You must come home.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Think about it,’ he said briefly, harshly. ‘There’s so much happening here I can’t take it in. Whatever’s gone on in the past…’ He glanced at Nicky and felt as if he was on a shifting deck, unsure of his footing, unsure of anything. ‘For now we need to put that aside. If you don’t come home, then some time soon I’ll be back here to…sort what’s mine. But my priority right now has to be the islanders. Thousands of livelihoods, Thena. Princess Athena. They’re your people. You answer to them and not to me. Except…’

  He hesitated and then said the words that had to be said. The words that had been in his head for the entire tour of the park.

  ‘Except on the question of my son,’ he said.

  She gasped. ‘That’s not fair.’

  ‘Life’s not fair. Get over it, Athena, and come home. Princess.’

  Nicky had been listening on the sidelines, troubled, not understanding but trying. ‘You said my son,’ he pointed out, trying to be helpful. ‘Did you mean your daughter?’

  Nikos nodded. Grave as Nicky. ‘I must have,’ he agreed. ‘But I’m a bit upset right now. I need your mama to come back to the island where she was born.’

  ‘You called her a princess.’

  ‘She is a princess.’

  ‘She’s my Mama.’

  ‘She can be both. I bet your mama says you can be anything you want if you try hard enough.’ He turned and faced Athena straight on. She was lovely, he thought. In her casual sweatshirt, her jeans, her tumbled curls tied back with a piece of red ribbon…She was a mature version of the girl he’d fallen for ten years ago. Longer. The girl he’d loved for ever.

  He couldn’t think that.

  ‘Your mama can do anything she wants,’ he said to Nicky, but he kept right on looking at Athena. ‘I think it’s time for your mama to do just that. Because I think she wants the island of Argyros to be safe just as much as I do.’