Facebook: www.facebook.com/nigelmay
Visit www.sunloungerstories.com to discover more about the authors and their story destinations.
We have everything you need to make this your Best Summer Ever!
Return to the contents list.
Earth, Water, Fire & Air
***
Cressida McLaughlin
DESTINATION: Crete
‘So, Miss Hannah, which one will you choose today?’
With his rimless glasses perched on his nose and his head bent towards a newspaper, she could be forgiven for thinking he was a lot older than her. He sat in his chair, just inside the open doorway, and didn’t look up when he spoke to her.
‘I have to pick one a day?’ She glanced around the lobby at the cream sofas, blue glass tiles behind the reception desk, tall windows letting in the sunshine. She had arrived at the secluded, family-run hotel on the south coast of Crete the previous night, travel-weary and thirsty, the lingering heat sapping her energy. Sacha had greeted her with minimal fuss, his relaxed manner putting her at ease. He had carried her suitcase up to her room, leading the way up the narrow stone staircase, and told her, with a quick smile, that whatever she needed, she could ask him. With his smooth olive skin, lean body and glossy mess of dark hair, she had thought he was around her age.
Now he turned towards her with a shrug, his voice as low and fluid as an oboe, his English close to flawless. ‘No, but don’t wear them out all at once, or you will soon run out of experiences.’
‘I don’t think that’s possible.’ She indicated the view behind Sacha – an outdoor restaurant framed by a vine-covered trellis, and beyond that, bleached sand and the cobalt blue Mediterranean. ‘I could spend the whole week sitting out there and I wouldn’t get bored.’
‘But you’re alone,’ Sacha said, ‘you have nobody to share this with.’
Hannah opened her mouth, but no words came out.
‘I am sorry.’ Sacha put his newspaper down and his bare feet flat on the floor. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘Oh, you didn’t,’ she rushed, unable to stop her stomach twisting, reminding herself she wasn’t here to think about Daniel, and hoping that he wasn’t thinking about her. ‘But I am here to get away from…other experiences. Bad ones.’
‘Then you’ve come to the right place.’ He smiled quickly, his dark eyes holding hers.
‘So tell me about the elements.’ She pointed to the sign above the reception desk: Frangokastello’s blue lodge ~ Earth, Water, Fire & Air. ‘I hope it’s not some astrological tour, because if you’re planning on mapping my chart or finding meaning in the stars then I’ll go somewhere else.’
Sacha look affronted, and Hannah bit back a laugh.
‘They are the classic Greek elements,’ he said, ‘from before Socrates. A long way back.’
‘You’ve practiced that. Do lots of school trips come to Frangokastello?’
Sacha’s smile returned, creeping over his face, shattering his seriousness. ‘Do you want me to tell you or not?’
‘Yes.’ Hannah sat down next to him.
He took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘You find all the elements in Frangokastello. Earth is for the castle that named this place, the land it stands on, solid, unmovable.’
Hannah nodded. As she had arrived, she’d passed the fort, floodlit in the fading dusk. ‘Somewhere I should visit?’
‘Of course. You cannot stay here and ignore our history.’
‘Understood. I’ll go today. And I might be able to guess what water is.’
He gestured towards her.
‘The beach? Swimming.’
Sacha nodded. ‘No need for a chemical pool with the ocean on your doorstep.’
‘It was always at the top of my to-do list,’ Hannah said. ‘How about fire? I’ve been wracking my brains, but I can’t think. Unless there’s a fire pit somewhere?’
‘Close,’ Sacha ran his hand along his jawline, glancing behind him.
‘So?’
‘It is our fire, here, at the lodge.’
‘What kind of fire?’
‘For cooking. For the lamb, whitebait, souvlaki, the—’
‘One of the elements is your barbeque? That must be cheating.’
‘No,’ Sacha was adamant. ‘We have the best food in Frangokastello, ask anyone. The grill deserves its place. Besides, the last element is special, something nobody else has.’ Sacha leant towards her, and Hannah picked up a faint scent of lemon, could see his individual eyelashes, flecks of bronze in his irises.
‘W-what’s that?’ Her mouth had gone dry, the weight of anticipation as close as the heat.
Sacha smiled. Then he broke eye-contact, and Hannah felt like she’d been dropped from a height. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not yet. Not until you’ve seen the others.’ He picked up his paper, put his glasses back on and turned away from her. ‘There is water in the fridge behind the desk. Take it – the castle is larger than you think.’
Hannah packed water, her camera and sun cream and set off for the castle, which sat on a hill behind the beach, as if admiring the view. It was rectangular, with crenellations and a tower at each corner. It seemed to trap the heat within its walls. She had read about how the castle was built, about its bloody history. She trailed past pink roses, creeping vines and sandy cats sleeping in corners, blending into the golden stone – but her mind was elsewhere.
She didn’t think about home, or the reasons she had escaped to the blue waters and lush olive groves of Crete, but of Sacha’s mysterious missing element.
Would she find the air while walking up the mountains that rose like soldiers behind the castle, and feeling the force of the high wind? Or maybe there was a balloon trip, guided by the early summer’s gentle air currents, that would give her a birds-eye view of the rustic landscape? Somehow these didn’t seem unique enough, didn’t tally with his hushed tone, the reverence he gave it. Unless, she thought, bending to stroke a cat that had wrapped itself around her legs, he was toying with her. The thought brought a heat to her cheeks that had nothing to do with the sun.
*
‘Earth and water are done.’ Hannah walked in through the sliding doors, shorts over her bikini, water running off her hair and pooling at her waistband. A young couple were sharing a bottle of wine in the restaurant, the cicadas’ chirp filled the air and a string of fairy lights, wound haphazardly round the trellis, had begun to glow against the sinking sun.
Sacha looked up from behind the bar, his skin dark against the white of his t-shirt. ‘And the verdict?’
‘The castle was impressive,’ she said, aware that she was dripping onto the tiles, ‘but dusty. The sea is…’ she shook her head, ‘perfect. It’s so clear and warm, I could have stayed there for hours.’
‘You did.’ He reached out and placed two cold fingers against her shoulder. She felt the burn immediately. ‘You have After Sun?’
‘Upstairs,’ she winced.
‘But not good enough, perhaps.’ He opened the fridge, took out a tube and handed it to her. ‘Aloe Vera.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And then…’
Sacha raised his eyebrows. ‘Fire? You want to do three in one day?’
‘I don’t fancy cereal for dinner.’
He leant his elbows on the bar, and Hannah was struck by how young he looked now, how without the glasses and with his hair pushed back his face opened up. ‘I don’t think that’s all. I think you’re desperate to know about the last element.’
She held his gaze, the breeze murmuring against her hot skin. She shuddered. ‘Is your fire going tonight?’
He nodded once. ‘Every night, without fail.’
*
After Hannah had washed the sand off her skin, dressed and applied the Aloe Vera as best she could, she returned to the restaurant. The fairy lights were like orbs nestled amongst the vine leaves, and the tables were filling up. The clink of cutlery and low voices competed with the rhythm
ic crash of the waves, and aromas of charcoal and grilled meat assaulted her senses, making her realise how hungry she was.
‘Ready for fire?’
Sacha was carrying three glasses, a tea towel slung over his shoulder.
‘You’re not cooking?’
‘No, my brother, Nicolas, is the chef. I’ve saved you a table.’ He led her to the edge of the restaurant, to a table lit by a flickering candle. She insisted that Sacha choose for her. He brought her Greek salad, the tomatoes the size of oranges, red and bursting with flavour; calamari with lemon mayonnaise; a tender lamb stew with glazed potatoes and chunks of courgette. She drank red wine that was almost as sweet as syrup, her Kindle forgotten beside her on the table, as she watched him flit between tables, carrying steaming plates with the dexterity of a gymnast.
Slowly, the laughter died, the tables emptied and the sun disappeared, dragging the temperature with it. Hannah found she was shivering beneath the sunburn, and the tug of sleep was drawing her towards her simple white bedroom with a coloured glass mural on the wall and soap that smelled of olive oil.
‘Are you ready for air, Hannah?’ Sacha slipped into the seat opposite. He put a small, clear bottle and two shot glasses on the table.
‘I’m ready for bed,’ she admitted.
Sacha frowned. His dark brows were thick, and when he lowered them he looked too serious, like he was carrying the weight of the world. ‘Not like that.’
‘Like what?’ she looked around her, feeling a stab of panic.
‘This burning.’ He stroked his hand down her arm, and her shivering intensified. ‘You must take care under our sun.’ He said it softly, concern in his voice.
‘I know,’ she sighed, pushing away a sudden wave of loneliness.
‘Drink the Raki, I’ll be back.’ He poured the clear liquid into her glass, then disappeared. She downed it without thinking, the strong alcoholic taste making her cough.
‘That’s horrible,’ she said when Sacha returned.
He sat next to her this time, his body turned towards hers. ‘You’re not used to it, and tonight it will help.’
‘With what?’
‘The pain. Unless you don’t feel the sun’s heat?’ He undid another tube of Aloe Vera, and with smooth motions, rubbed the cool gel into her shoulders, back and arms. She closed her eyes, her limbs relaxing at his touch, at the soothing liquid. She felt him lift a coil of her hair off the nape of her neck, then press his palm into it.
‘Thank you.’
‘Now you’ll sleep, and in the morning, meet me here at five-thirty.’
‘AM?’
He nodded. ‘Or we could leave it to another day?’
Hannah felt the fizz of anticipation, despite her tiredness. ‘No, I’ll set my alarm.’
It was warmer inside than out, and as she watched Sacha extinguish the fairy lights, the terrace below disappeared. But from her window Hannah could see the white sand beyond, almost luminous against the darkness.
*
Hannah tiptoed downstairs, still blinking sleep out of her eyes. Sacha was standing with his back to her, a light hoody over his shoulders, sandals on his usually bare feet. He turned, his dark eyes creased at the edges. He shrugged a small bag onto his shoulder and, without speaking, held his hand out to her.
They walked slowly across the sand towards the castle, the sun rising up behind its silhouette, painting colours across the cloudless sky; burnt orange, then peach, then pink. The sea crashed behind them, as if angry they had turned their backs on it.
Sacha climbed the low rocks, pulling her gently up behind him, and settled himself on a patch of grassland. He patted the space next to him and Hannah sat. They were angled half towards the beach, half towards the castle. She waited for his explanation, but instead he opened his bag, unwrapped some melon slices, and handed her one.
‘Thank you. So this is it, this is the air?’
‘We have to wait,’ he said quietly. ‘Be calm. Hopefully, they will appear.’
‘What will, Sacha?’
He glanced at her, then returned to his vigil. ‘The Drousolites.’ In his low voice, the word was both melodious and sinister. ‘They come out of the air, here, at the castle.’
‘What are they?’
‘The ghosts of soldiers that died defending it. At this time of year, in the early mornings, they return.’
Hannah studied his profile, waiting for the flicker of a smile, or a wink. None came. ‘You’ve seen them?’
She saw his Adam’s apple bob. ‘Once, a long time ago.’
‘What are they like?’
‘They are fleeting, shimmering like a mirage. Drousolites – they are shadows in the dew.’
‘Shadows in the dew.’ She murmured, moving closer to him, feeling the comfort of his presence, the weight of his anticipation. Her eyes searched the landscape and she listened to his breathing, as rhythmic as the waves.
She woke slumped into Sacha’s side. His arm was around her, his fingers pinching her skin.
‘D-did I miss them?’ She pushed herself up, rubbing her neck.
‘No,’ he whispered. ‘There.’ He nudged his chin towards the castle, and Hannah looked.
At first, she thought there was nothing there. Then she leaned forward, narrowing her eyes, and she saw them.
They were the silvery grey of graphite, shifting and flickering against the castle wall. She could just make out the curved outlines of helmets, the sharp tips of swords. They neither grew nor shrunk, their positions steady, as if waiting – for soldiers to appear on the garrisons, or for the call to retreat? Hannah stared, her breath lodged in her throat, her fingers gripping Sacha’s arm. She was desperate not to miss a second, to see enough to hold onto.
And then, she found she was staring at the blank, dusty walls of the castle, the shadows gone. She hadn’t noticed them fade, or blink out suddenly. They had slipped away, outfoxing her.
‘They came.’ She could hear awe in his voice, and also pride.
‘You’ve only seen them once before?’
‘Only once, until today. Now, you have seen them too. It is a rare thing.’
‘So, that was air, the last element.’
He stood and reached out a hand. She took it and he pulled her up. ‘But I kept a fifth in reserve, in case they didn’t come.’
‘You didn’t expect them to?’
‘I hoped, but no.’ He grinned, and it was like a spell had broken. ‘I have waited twenty years to see them again, to prove to myself that it was more than childhood imagination. Now I have.’
*
She spent the day reading and sleeping in the shade of olive trees in the hotel garden, next to a scruffy, dribbling dog called Alejandro. ‘It means defender,’ Sacha said, ‘because he is supposed to defend us against intruders.’
‘And does he?’ Hannah asked, accepting a tall glass of fruit juice.
‘Only because he barks so much they would get pissed off and run away.’
Hannah hid her smile.
‘But he is never challenged,’ Sacha continued, ‘he eats and sleeps and barks, but there is nobody out here to bother him. It is not so popular as other parts of Crete.’ He paused, then added, ‘But you chose here, and you came alone?’
Hannah sat up on her elbows. ‘I needed to get away, somewhere beautiful but also quiet, somewhere…I could escape.’
‘Your bad experiences?’
Hannah waited for the familiar churning in her stomach, but it didn’t come. She nodded. ‘My ex-boyfriend – we haven’t been together for months, but he…he wanted to try again.’
Sacha crouched next to her, his hand automatically going out to pat Alejandro. ‘You didn’t want to? No second chances?’
‘I’ve already given him too many,’ she said, her eyes intent on the dusty ground. ‘And I was tempted, but – but it will always be the same. This time I stood up to him, but he didn’t want to accept it. He was angry, and I…’ she sighed. ‘I decided to get away, just for
a while.’ She felt her cheeks colour, surprised by how much she cared what Sacha thought of her. When she looked up his gaze was direct.
‘I think,’ he said softly, ‘you have come to the right place. For beauty, and for space. And, if you need protecting,’ he added, his eyes hinting at a smile, ‘there is always Alejandro.’
Hannah felt her shoulders drop, her smile returning. ‘I feel much better knowing he’s here.’ She reached out and stroked the dog’s wiry back, her fingers brushing Sacha’s. ‘And this fifth element,’ she said quickly, ‘where is it?’
Sacha smacked his palm against his forehead. ‘Do you have no patience? Four elements in two days, and still you want more.’
‘I wouldn’t want it if you hadn’t offered it to me!’ Now she did laugh, and a resigned smile spread across Sacha’s face.
‘This is my burden. I try to impress you with my home, so I have to live up to the expectations I have laid before you. But this morning – I think that was you, not me, that made them appear.’
They fell quiet. Hannah had been trying to replay their image in her mind, but the memory was as insubstantial as the ghosts themselves. ‘Is there an explanation for them?’
‘Not a good one,’ Sacha said, his tone defensive. ‘Some say it is a mirage, a combination of dew, shadows and sea mist. But why search for an explanation when there is one already?’
‘Ghosts?’
‘It’s a place of history, of lives won and lost over thousands of years. Who’s to say they wouldn’t come back?’
Hannah shrugged. She had no other answer, and she could feel Sacha’s passion. ‘I believe you,’ she said. ‘I saw them too.’
*
After dinner that night, Sacha cleared away the last of the empty plates and joined Hannah at her table next to the beach. He was wearing a dark grey t-shirt, and beneath the glow of the fairy lights, his eyes were in shadow. He stifled a yawn with the back of his hand.
SUNLOUNGER 2: Beach Read Bliss (Sunlounger Stories) Page 49