Ariana

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Ariana Page 3

by Emma Nichols


  Her stomach lurched at the thought, and a burst of anxiety rattled her. She recoiled into the grassy bank, clasped her knees to her chest, a voice screaming noooo in her head. She wanted to go back to the cliff top, continue to scan the beach, watch from a distance, not getting too close, in case she should have to face the truth, but she couldn’t move. What if Nikki was still here? She sat, shaking her head, unable to process the thought. Did she still feel something for Nikki?

  She stared at her shaking hands, tears flooding the back of her eyes and a steady flow starting to trickle down her cheeks. She wiped them away, with a hint of irritation. One thing was for sure; if it hadn’t been for her grandmother, she wouldn’t be here now. Inheriting the property had given her a lifeline, and she was going to be able to create a future for her and Soph with the proceeds. The thought should have provided more comfort than it did, instead of leaving her with a strange feeling of uncertainty.

  Ariana wiped at her damp eyes. Everything she either owned in her own right or cared about now sat in the white house behind her. Tomorrow, the Sophia II would return to British waters and be reunited with her parents. She sighed, closed her eyes momentarily, leaned back into the bank, and soaked up the warmth of the sun, her mind drifting to the quiet hush of the waves against the rocks below, the gentle aroma of wild chamomile going some way to easing the tension in her shoulders. She was mentally and emotionally exhausted. She had been for too long now. Just one last step, a few weeks, and she could start living her life.

  *

  Ariana stirred. She rubbed at her hot cheeks, although the sun had shifted and she was now sat partly in the shade. She must have fallen asleep. Soph! She sat bolt upright, an automatic response, remembered that her daughter was almost eighteen-years-old and perfectly capable of looking after herself, and then relaxed her shoulders a fraction. Nikki’s image came to mind, and a warm fuzzy feeling settled in her chest. She eased herself to stand, rubbed at her eyes and started the short climb up the ridge, music and laughter from the moored cruiser following her up the slope.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Ariana asked Soph, dashing past her as she exited the house.

  ‘For a walk.’ Soph shrugged like her mum had asked the stupidest question in the universe.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ Ariana asked.

  Soph rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah. There’s some stuff on the stove,’ she added, her eyes indicating towards the kitchen.

  ‘Where’s Maria?’

  ‘Dunno. I think they left.’ Soph answered, shrugging again, scuffing her feet and kicking up the dust. ‘I’m gonna wander,’ she added, turning away from her mother.

  ‘Okay… stay safe,’ Ariana called after her. If she could have seen Soph’s face, she felt sure she would be wincing at the unwarranted concerns. She sighed, watched her daughter disappear down the dirt track and turned into the empty house

  .

  3.

  Nikki swept back the rod and cast it out into the shadows, the last flicker of the sun rippling on the surface of the sea. She observed the water, sighting the float as it bobbed to the surface and danced gracefully. The beach had cleared now but chatter from the tavern filtered across the sand, the place providing a sense of seclusion without loneliness. The rocks and descending sun easily obscured her from view, one of the reasons she liked to fish from this vantage point, directly below the white house on the hill. She gazed out to sea, drawn into a meditative trance, her thoughts settling with the constant whoosh and gentle movement of the water below her.

  She slowly wound in the line, the reel clicking as it turned. She spotted the slim figure, head bowed, eyes glued to the phone in her hand, strolling bare-foot down the shoreline, long before the girl noticed her. She cast the line effortlessly again, the soft whistle of the reel lasting a full four seconds, and rested the rod in the crook of her arm.

  The girl approached lazily, her deck shoes tied together, resting over her shoulder, her feet flicking at the shallow water. ‘Hi,’ she said, loitering a few feet away, staring out to the darkening sea.

  ‘Hi,’ Nikki responded, her eyes on the float to avoid the contact that might send her heart thumping in her chest. She knew exactly who the girl was.

  ‘Fishing?’ the girl asked.

  It was a dumb question. ‘Yes,’ she said, glancing over at the girl, holding back a chuckle.

  The girl shrugged. ‘Is there anything more interesting to do here?’ she asked, gazing down at the beach she had just walked.

  ‘I guess that depends?’ Nikki responded. ‘It’s a small place, but there’s always Ithaka four miles that way or Lefkada about twelve miles over there if you’re looking for something else. Ferry goes on a Friday to Ithaka and as and when to Lefkada.’

  The girl huffed. ‘Can’t,’ she said.

  ‘There’s no phone signal on the beach, and it’s sporadic in the bar,’ Nikki added, nodding her head towards the taverna at the other side of the beach.

  The girl huffed again.

  Nikki glanced across at the scruffy hair. It was difficult to see the colour of her eyes, but she resembled her mother well enough. ‘You’re Ariana’s daughter, aren’t you?’ she asked, turning her attention back to the water, the float still dancing softly with the gentle waves.

  The girl turned sharply to face her. ‘How did you know?’ she asked.

  Nikki smiled warmly. ‘I said, it’s a small place.’

  ‘Oh!’ Soph averted her gaze.

  ‘Sophie, right.’ Nikki stated.

  ‘Soph,’ she corrected.

  Nikki nodded. ‘Ah, okay. Hi Soph, I’m Nikki.’ She smiled, drawing a smile from Soph. ‘You must be what? Eighteen now.’

  ‘You know a lot, don’t you?’ Soph tilted her head and stared at Nikki.

  ‘I knew your great-grandmother, Sophia.’

  Soph shrugged. ‘Never met her,’ she said, her eyes darting to the water tickling at her feet.

  Nikki remained silent.

  Soph kicked gently at the shallow waves as they approached and fell away again.

  ‘What do you like to do?’ Nikki asked, eventually.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘For kicks. You asked about something interesting to do. What interests you?’

  ‘Music, I guess,’ Soph shrugged.

  Nikki reeled the line in, checked the bait and cast it out again; every movement watched quizzically by the young stranger. Four seconds again before the reel stopped. ‘Do you play?’ Nikki asked her eyes on the float.

  ‘Guitar.’

  Nikki looked at her more intently and smiled. ‘Bass or acoustic?’ she asked, with genuine interest, noting Soph’s dark-blue eyes staring back at her.

  ‘Acoustic. I used to play for a band,’ Soph said, with increasing enthusiasm.

  ‘What happened?’ Nikki asked.

  ‘We came here, and I quit.’ Soph sucked through her teeth and kicked at the water with more vigour than she had previously.

  ‘That’s a bitch.’

  ‘Yeah, is.’

  ‘How long you here for?’ Nikki asked.

  A whizzing sound interrupted any response; the reel was spinning. Nikki grabbed the lever, halting the line and the rod bent violently. She started turning the reel, slowly drawing in the line. ‘Think we caught a fish,’ she said with a grin.

  ‘Really,’ Soph said excitedly, moving closer to the rocks.

  ‘Grab that net,’ Nikki said, pointing to a pole resting in the water. ‘You can help me land it.’

  Soph baulked. She’d never even seen a fish caught, let alone assisted in the process. ‘I…’

  ‘It’s okay. I’ll guide you.’ Nikki said. ‘Just hold on to the pole and keep the net under the water. I’m going to ease the fish into the net. When you see it, close to the surface, slide the net under the fish and lift it out.’

  Soph lifted the pole, her heart racing in her chest. Nikki was calmly winding the lever; the fishing rod bending, straightening a fraction and then bending again, the ripple
s growing as the fish thrashed just under the surface. She held the net under the water as instructed, her eyes eagerly seeking out the fish. ‘There,’ she squealed, a glistening of silver skimming the surface then ducking away again. She moved the net to a position underneath the activity as Nikki slowly clicked the reel, edging the fish closer.

  Soph’s eyes widened as she followed Nikki’s movements, locating the fish, just underneath the surface now, she could see it clearly. Swiftly, she pulled up the net. It was heavier than she had expected, with the water’s resistance, causing her to fight for her balance on the rock’s slippery surface. ‘Shiiiittt!’ Her feet lost their grip, and she slipped into the water, losing control of the net.

  Nikki locked the reel and reached out a hand. She was trying not to laugh, but with the sight of the flapping teenager, and her screaming about being in the water with a live fish, she couldn’t help herself. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘You’re fine; it’s not that deep.’

  Soph grabbed the offered hand, clambered quickly out of the water and sat, knees pressed to her chest, staring wide-eyed. ‘I think it bit me,’ she said.

  Nikki chuckled loudly. ‘Maybe,’ she said, winding in the reel. Nothing appeared at the end of the line.

  ‘Where is it?’ Soph asked, glaring at the bare hook with worry.

  ‘I think it got away.’ Nikki said, with a broad grin. ‘You okay?’ she asked.

  Soph was shivering. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said, staring vacantly.

  ‘Hey, no worries, there’s plenty more fish in the sea!’ Nikki said with a chuckle.

  Soph smiled weakly.

  Nikki reached into the water, pulled out the net and rested it back against the rocks. ‘You want to try again?’ she asked.

  ‘Maybe another time,’ Soph said, rising to stand. ‘I need to get back,’ she added, her arms wrapped around her chest, comforting herself from the shock. ‘It’s getting dark,’ she said.

  ‘Yes.’ Nikki watched Soph make her way gingerly down from the rocks, onto the sand and quickly put on her deck shoes. She smiled ruefully at the young girl’s fastidiousness. Sophie Carter-Cruz had lived a precious life; she pondered with a shake of her head.

  ‘See you around,’ Soph said, heading for the sandy track back up the hill.

  ‘It was good to meet you, Soph,’ Nikki replied, but the girl was already out of earshot. She cast the line into the water, perched on a flat piece of rock and searched through her food bag. The float swaying lightly on the sea’s surface and the soft whoosh of the waves capturing her attention, protecting her from her thoughts, she savoured the calamari and potato salad Pops had prepared.

  *

  ‘You’re back early,’ Manos remarked, a contented smile lingering on his lips.

  He looked comfortable, resting on the lounger on the beach out the front of the bar, a strong aniseed smell emanating from the glass in his hand. The bottle and a second glass sat on the sand as if he had been waiting for her. ‘Fish weren’t biting,’ she said.

  ‘Aye,’ he said.

  ‘Ariana’s daughter showed up,’ Nikki said.

  ‘Drink?’ he asked. He sucked through his teeth as he reached for the bottle and poured a large shot of the clear liquid into the glass.

  ‘Thanks.’ She dropped her gear to the sand, took the glass and sat on the lounger next to his. ‘Good night?’ she asked, referring to the restaurant.

  ‘Every night’s a good night,’ he said, with humility, and it was.

  The Kefalas family had worked the restaurant now for three generations, and there was no shortage of guests, no matter what the time of year or the time of day. Locals made up their largest client group and ate regularly, and then there were the seasonal visitors who would seek out the place based on a recommendation. They didn’t advertise. Everyone knew Kefalas’, and there wasn’t one person on the island who hadn’t eaten there, or partied there, at some point in time.

  She sipped at the ouzo, winced as the burn hit her throat and the aniseed cleared her nose. She coughed lightly. ‘God, that’s strong,’ she said, her words getting stuck on their way out.

  ‘She’s selling,’ Manos said, his tone unchanging.

  Nikki took a moment to process the two words and work out to whom he was referring, and then the penny dropped. ‘What!’ she shouted then skulked down in the lounger at her own raised voice, hoping she hadn’t disturbed anyone, and working hard to control the anger that had flared. ‘Teresa!’ she spat, rising to her feet and beginning to pace across the sand.

  ‘No, Ariana! Nikos came in earlier. Ariana gave them the news. No sign of Teresa.’ He was shaking his head as he spoke. ‘You know, they knew she was coming, but Teresa swore them to secrecy,’ he said. ‘I’m surprised,’ he added, with more than a hint of remorse. He sucked through his teeth and sipped at the drink in his hand.

  Nikki’s head was spinning and the only sounds bouncing around her mind were her confused thoughts. She hadn’t heard a word Pops had said. The anger had started a fire in her chest, and now her eyes were burning too. She pressed her finger and thumb firmly into her tear ducts to prevent the rage from spilling. Ariana won’t sell the house, Nikki. Sophia’s words ran like a movie script on repeat; Sophia sat in the wicker chair on the kitchen-balcony, shaking her head, the china cup in her hand rattling against the saucer as she rested her coffee cup. It hadn’t occurred to her, or to Sophia, that her granddaughter would want to sell the place. Teresa, Sophia’s daughter, on the other hand, the money grabbing… Yes, she would sell without a second thought, but that’s why Sophia had left the house to Ariana and not to Teresa. Sophia had tried to secure the future of the place for the local community, but apparently failed.

  Nikki continued to stamp out her frustration across the sand, flicking her fingers urgently through her hair, trying to make sense of the truth. The last thing Sophia wanted was to sell the estate. ‘She can’t sell,’ she said.

  Manos sipped at his drink. ‘If she owns the house she can do as she pleases,’ he said, his tone more matter-of-fact than Nikki might have expected.

  ‘Shit!’ Nikki cursed.

  His eyes turned to her as he swallowed. ‘What will you do?’ he asked.

  Nikki stopped pacing and stared at him. His eyes were soft, and his wrinkled skin held the wisdom of his years. There was no urgency, no angst, just an acceptance of the way things were. And right now, his relaxed demeanour irritated her. ‘Stop her,’ she said, with determination.

  ‘Aye,’ he responded, his smile offering compassion, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

  ‘Uurrgghh,’ she huffed. Picking up her fishing gear, she marched through the empty restaurant to the rear door. Dropping her gear at the workshop as she passed, she took the few short paces and entered her adjoining apartment. Fuelled with rage, she slammed the door behind her. Why now? Why? Why? She paced around her living room, trying to loosen the tension in her body; it wouldn’t shift. She stepped through to her bedroom and stopped at the window, staring into the dark, night sky, anger building. The white house was obscured from view by the taverna, but the thought of it belonging to someone else! You can’t do that Ariana; you can’t sell. Years of repressed pain, the hurt, the disappointment, and the sadness, converged in her mind and transformed into the rage that now blinded her. Fists clenched, jaw clamped, she wanted to scream but couldn’t. She wanted to yell out to the world, but the words wouldn’t come. She wanted to go up to the house and shake some sense into Ariana. Ariana who had never been able to stick up for herself; Ariana who had lived under the control of her mother, Ariana who had broken her heart, and would now break Sophia’s trust. No! She would do everything in her power to stop Ariana from selling the house.

  With fury driving her, she marched out of her apartment, across the beach ignoring Pops, and started to climb the sandy path. Reaching the top, the lights from the house guided her to the front door. Her eyes fixed on the blue wooden door, her fist thumped down repeatedly, until it opened.

&
nbsp; ‘Nikki!’ Ariana gasped, her hand swiftly covering her mouth, her eyes wide.

  Nikki froze, the wind knocked out of her sails. Her mouth tried to move, but the words she had wanted to scream out were stuck, and she couldn’t swallow. Ariana’s dark-brown eyes, peeking over the hand clamped to her mouth, had locked onto hers and taken her breath away. The ash-blonde hair, resting lightly on narrow shoulders looked a little better coiffured than she remembered. Nikki’s racing heart surprised her too. She hesitated, trying to gain some sense of composure, a jelly-like feeling starting to challenge the muscles in her legs.

  Ariana released her hand from her mouth and tried to stand taller than her five-feet-six-inches. It took all her resolve, and she still felt small, weak, and strangely confused.

  The momentary distraction, which had thrown Nikki off course, lifted. ‘You’re selling,’ Nikki asserted, her hands finding their way to her hips and resting there, the tone in her voice a surprise. The anger that had driven her to stand at the blue door this late at night had shifted to something less intense, something far more vulnerable than she would have liked to admit.

  ‘I err… Umm.’ Ariana stood, dumbfounded, avoiding direct eye contact. Guilt warred with her desire to pull Nikki into her arms. Her hands were trembling. Her whole body was shaking. Guilt was winning.

  ‘You’re selling?’ This time it was a question and the tone more determined. Nikki stood her ground, her hands remaining steadfast on her hips, her eyes seeking the answer.

  ‘Yes.’ The response was timid, remorseful even. Ariana’s eyes lowered, and her hand lifted and rubbed at the back of her neck.

  ‘Why?’ Nikki asked.

  The resonance in Nikki’s voice caused Ariana to flinch. It wasn’t just that she never justified her decisions to others, except perhaps her mother, and then, of course, there was her ex-husband. There was something else though, something more profound and hauntingly pure in the tone, that touched her. She gulped. She moved to speak but was interrupted.

 

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