by Emma Nichols
*
A new movement in the water caught Ariana’s attention from the surf breaking on the shoreline. Her eyes widened and her pulse raced at the sight of Nikki striding out of the sea and flicking the hair from her face. She couldn’t deny the impact seeing Nikki had on her body. It was automatic, persistent, and happened every time she thought about her. She watched, Nikki collecting her clothes from the beach, Nikki strolling across the sand and then stopping next to the lounger. She hadn’t noticed Manos there before now. He must have been waiting for Nikki. He must have been worried. What had she done to Nikki? A wave of guilt struck her. Nikki didn’t deserve to be treated that way. She needed to go to her, explain, apologise. Her heart raced with the sense of urgency driving her to make good the damage she had inflicted.
Ariana ran through the kitchen and out the front door. Down the path, she slowed her pace, careful not to make a wrong step and stumble. Reaching the sand, she tried to increase her stride again, but the soft sand sapped the last remaining energy from her legs, and she faltered. Dragging her feet, one step at a time, she pushed on. As she approached the taverna, the lounger was empty. The doors too were locked. She made her way around the side of the bar, to the rear of the building, and stood in front of Nikki’s apartment. Her heart, pounding in her chest, she froze. Glancing around, she took in the layout she hadn’t seen before. The workshop sited to the left of the apartment and in direct view from the side of the bar. It looked as if Nikki was working on an old fishing boat, and the two shutters she had removed that day lay propped against the wall. There was something familiar about the boat, but she couldn’t quite place it.
‘Good morning, Ariana,’ Manos said, in a hushed tone.
Ariana’s feet almost left the ground as his voice registered, and she gasped, her hand covering her mouth to stem the scream she would have otherwise released.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump,’ Manos said. His smile was warm, his eyes heavy with concern.
Ariana slowly relaxed her hand, her heart still pounding. She tried to speak, but Manos interrupted her.
‘Nikki could do with some sleep,’ he said, with compassion. He wasn’t pushing her away; he was making sense. ‘She’ll be fine,’ he added, with a reassuring grin.
Ariana nodded, stepped closer and collapsed against Manos’ strong chest. He folded his arms gently around her and held her close. She was exhausted, and maybe that’s why she allowed herself to be held by him. She didn’t have the energy to fathom it, and she didn’t care why she had fallen into his arms. Maybe it was his quiet maturity or his genuine kindness? He always seemed so stable, so constant, and reliable. As far back as she could remember he had been there at times when her mother hadn’t. Something about his demeanour felt reassuringly familiar, and had given her permission to be comforted, and supported. Her eyes closed for a moment before she pulled back. ‘I need to go,’ she said softly.
‘Aye,’ he whispered, watching her as she made her way back to the beach. He released a long breath, his head rocking subtly with his thoughts, sucking through his teeth, hoping Sophia had been right in her assessment of her granddaughter; hoping Ariana would make the right choice.
12.
Ariana’s eyelids flickered, her ears adjusting to the grinding sound outside her bedroom window. The harder she tried to open the lids the heavier they seemed to be, so she stopped trying and rested into the pillow. In the absence of any struggle, her muscles softened, and the tension in her head melted away, the sense of relaxation bringing with it a tiny smile. She hadn’t realised what it felt like physically, to not be tense. The grinding noise stopped and then started again. Curiosity got the better of her, and she eased herself up from the bed, noting the increased temperature in the room. Squinting, daylight streaming through the gaps in the shuttered window, she stood and stretched.
As she opened the shutters, the noise increased, and she stepped onto the balcony, her ears guiding her eyes right, to the window next to hers. ‘Manos!’ she exclaimed.
Manos stopped the sanding machine and smiled at her. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d be up already,’ he added, his eyes avoiding her scantily dressed body.
Ariana pulled her arms around her chest, even though she would be revealing more flesh if she were wearing her bathing suit. ‘I didn’t realise you were…’ Ariana’s voice faded, her eyes searching the side of the house. She couldn’t see Nikki.
‘I offered to help Nikki,’ he said, juggling the toothpick in his mouth.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Ariana asked, wondering if Nikki might be working on the front of the house, and curious to find out.
‘Yes, please,’ Manos responded, but Ariana had escaped from the balcony before he finished the short sentence.
‘Afternoon,’ Soph said, with a wry smile, as Ariana entered the kitchen.
Ariana flushed, a wave of embarrassment sweeping through her at her behaviour the previous night. ‘Hi,’ she said, unsure how or whether to apologise. ‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you last night,’ she said, remorsefully.
Soph shrugged, downed the coffee in her cup and stood. ‘Coffee’s in the pot,’ she said. ‘I’m going to the beach with G,’ she added.
Ariana smiled warmly, pulled Soph into her arms and squeezed her tightly. ‘I love you,’ she said.
Soph tensed. She hadn’t expected that and didn’t quite know how she felt about her mother’s overt display of affection towards her. ‘Right, I gotta go,’ Soph said.
‘Right, sorry,’ Ariana fussed, releasing Soph. The last thing she intended was to offend her daughter. ‘Have fun,’ she said, to Soph’s back as she exited the kitchen.
‘You too,’ Soph shouted back.
Ariana smiled; Soph looked happy. She poured a coffee and a glass of water, stepped out the front door, glanced around, and then took the external steps to the side of the house, to the shuttered bedroom on the ground floor. No sign of Nikki.
‘Thanks,’ Manos said, taking the glass and emptying it in one shot. ‘Coming along eh,’ he said, his hand caressing the exposed wood.
Ariana glanced at the sanded shutter, sipping fervently at the drink in her hand. The wood did look better, even though it hadn’t yet been painted, but her attention was elsewhere. Manos was grinning suspiciously.
‘She’s gone to Lefkada,’ he said, his eyes still on the wood in his hand.
‘Oh!’ Ariana replied; the word laced with disappointment.
‘You want to start painting these?’ he asked with a slight tilt of his head. ‘These aren’t as bad as the ones at the front, he said. ‘I can remove the shutters there while you paint,’ he added, his grin widening. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Ariana nodded. The panels she and Nikki had removed had needed far more attention than the ones Manos had sanded down. She would need to get a coat of paint on them before the sun was fully around the hill though. ‘I’ll do my best,’ she said.
‘Aye,’ Manos said. ‘Me too,’ he added with a chuckle.
Ariana smiled.
‘I’ll get the paint,’ he said.
‘Do you want a coffee?’ she asked.
‘Good idea,’ he replied with a nod, heading up the steps, Ariana following him.
By the time Ariana returned with two fresh cups of coffee, Manos had the lid off the paint and was inspecting the brush in his hand.
‘This’ll do it,’ he said, placing the brush on the low wall and taking the offered cup. He gazed out across the west-cove, sipping at the drink. ‘Beautiful, eh,’ he said.
Ariana stopped and studied the view, the lower level providing a different aspect to the kitchen-balcony above her bedroom. Shrubs and bushes partly obscured the beach, narrowing the span, the insects seemed more vocal too, and yet it also felt very cosy and private. ‘It is,’ she said, with sincerity. She sipped at her drink, immersed in the ambience.
‘Your mother used to love exploring over there,’ he said, pointing to the rocky outcr
op on the opposite side of the cove.
Ariana flinched. Not only was there more than a hint of affection in his tone, she had never imagined her mother enjoying any aspect of being on the island. She couldn’t think what to say.
‘When she was younger,’ Manos clarified as if to answer the question in her mind. ‘We used to explore a lot back then,’ he said, sucking softly through his teeth.
Ariana was still struggling to process his comments. Her mother had always been so keen to leave the island and never return, and even though Teresa’s obsessive desire had never made any sense to her, she had never sought to ask why. ‘Why did she take me away then, if she loved it so much?’ she asked.
Manos paused, his eyes remaining fixed on the rocks on the other side of the cove. ‘It’s complicated,’ he said.
Ariana frowned. That was no answer.
‘The estate wasn’t always what it is now,’ he started. ‘And, Teresa became ambitious,’ he said with a sense of admiration. ‘You know she used to love to sing, but singing in the bar,’ his eyes drifted to the taverna, ‘just wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to sing, to travel, to enjoy fame and fortune, and at that time the estate was barely providing enough for them to survive. But, then.’ He paused.
He talked as if he held deep affection for Teresa and sympathy for her too. But, the bigger surprise was the fact that Teresa used to sing. Ariana had never been aware of that, ever! A flash of anger passed quickly through her, with the images of her mother stopping her from singing as a child, and the vehement opposition to Soph going to Music College. Her jaw sat agape as she continued to hang off Manos’ words.
‘A young man turned up here one day, Aaron Carter.’ His tone shifted to something closer to dismay. Bemusement? ‘He charmed your mother with his ideas of a multi-million dollar lifestyle, made promises that excited her more than life here, and she decided that marrying him was the best option for her.’
Ariana’s jaw had dropped, and her mouth sat open wide and in danger of catching a passing insect.
‘It happened very quickly; the marriage I mean.’ There was something in his tone she couldn’t place. ‘But then he left her here while he travelled to set up his business empire. I don’t think Teresa was expecting him to do that when she married him, and she became angry and bitter.’ He was shaking his head, his eyes pitying, his lips pressed tightly together for a moment, and then he took a deep breath and continued. ‘The truth was, at the time Aaron arrived here, he had nothing but a dream. Then you were born, and that made life difficult for Aaron to fund, so Teresa stayed here for Sophia to provide the support she needed. He came to visit as often as he could, as you know, but the promises he made were very slow to materialise. At one point we thought Teresa might never leave, but then he hit the jackpot and she went to him. She had stopped singing long before she left the island, mind,’ he added with a resigned shrug.
There was regret in his tone, and as he turned to face her, the sheen on the surface of his eyes spilt a tear onto his cheek. ‘You were fond of my mother?’ she asked, in a pitch higher than usual.
He swiped awkwardly at his damp cheek. ‘It was a long time ago,’ he said. ‘And, yes, I loved her very much.’ He reached out and with tenderness, tucked Ariana’s hair around her ear and lifted her chin between his thumb and finger. He studied her with genuine warmth. ‘She loves you dearly,’ he said, ‘she’s just never been very good at choosing love over money.’
Ariana studied the depth in his dark-eyes, the tenderness of his touch even though his fingers were coarse, and he released her chin.
‘Better get painting before the sun gets too hot,’ he said, looking skyward.
She nodded. Only after he had disappeared back up the steps did she reach for the paintbrush and realise her hands were shaking.
*
‘You okay?’ Gianna asked with concern, her keen eyes failing to pin down the cause of Soph’s evasive behaviour.
Soph sat, digging her toes into the soft sand, her knees clamped to her chest, picking at the calloused skin on her fingertips. She looked up briefly, tried to smile but ended up grimacing and releasing a huffing sound.
‘What’s up?’ Gianna asked, leaning across, toying with Soph’s hair and trailing her index finger down her jaw-line.
Soph moved her head into the tender touch, her mouth finding Gianna’s fingers and pressing her lips to them. Gianna’s sweet scent filled her as she breathed, stirring a deep sense of longing. ‘Do you get on with your parents?’ Soph asked, her voice quiet, pensive.
Gianna pulled her hand away and leaned back on her elbows, stared out to sea. She hadn’t ever thought about whether she got on with her parents or not, they were just her parents and often a pain in the arse. But she loved them all the same. ‘I guess so,’ she said, trying to be honest. ‘Don’t you? Your mum seems cool,’ she added, hoping to lift Soph’s solemn mood.
Soph let out a weighty sigh. ‘I guess,’ she said, reminded of the times her mum had defended her, even though she had always been over-ruled by either her father or her grandmother. Her mum had also been the one to allow her to get the tattoo, and the piercings. But that wasn’t the cause of Soph’s low mood. The effect of Ariana’s sadness over the years had created a deep scar. She was left feeling she wanted to run from her and be held by her, at the same time. The inner turmoil had her feeling more alone, isolated, and lonely. ‘Does your mama get sad?’ she asked.
Gianna shook her head. ‘Angry sometimes,’ she said. ‘Papa gets angry too,’ she added.
‘Yeah, my dad used to shout, a lot,’ Soph agreed. ‘It’s arse,’ she added, with a nervous chuckle.
Gianna huffed. ‘They aren’t perfect,’ she stated.
‘I guess not,’ Soph said, holding Gianna’s bright eyes, the dark liner shaping them drawing her in, triggering the tingling in her neck and the warmth in her chest.
‘My mum got sad a lot,’ Soph admitted, suddenly feeling the urge to share her worries.
‘That must have been hard,’ Gianna said, softly.
‘Depression! She used to cry all the time, for years,’ Soph continued, her gaze fixed on the horizon out to sea.
Gianna quieted and watched. The colour seemed to drain from Soph’s cheeks, and her blue eyes lightened and narrowed.
‘She was crying last night,’ Soph said, hugging her legs and dropping her gaze to her feet in the sand.
Gianna eased next to Soph, put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. The body in her arms began to shake, and she squeezed tighter, finding it hard to hold back the tears in her own eyes.
Neither of them spoke for what felt like an eternity.
Soph lifted her head. The tears had stopped with the comfort of Gianna’s warmth, and a wave of relief lightened her spirits. She rubbed at her damp cheeks, chuckled at her embarrassment and turned to face Gianna. Her heart stopped at the intensity of the almost black irises staring directly at her.
The sharp pain ripping through Gianna’s heart transformed instantly as the girl she was falling for looked up at her through teary eyes, and she couldn’t prevent what followed. She lurched forward, her mouth finding its target with precision and force. Her lips pressed down hard, her tongue, responding to Soph’s, dancing synchronously, exploring hungrily. She pulled Soph into the kiss. Soph’s hands were around her head and pulling her to the ground, Soph released a guttural groan as her back hit the sand and Gianna landed on top of her, their mouths continuing to explore. Seeking out Soph’s hands, she intertwined their fingers and pressed Soph’s hands to the side of her head, her tongue continuing to investigate the soft, warm texture at its tip. Gianna slowed her exploration as the emotional intensity driving her increased, causing her to tremble; tenderly, mindfully, nipping, and teasing, she took them deeper into the kiss.
Soph was drowning, and it was the most erotic sensation she had ever experienced. She could die now, and she would have lived. The sensual feel of Gianna pressed against the length of her bod
y, kissing her, breathing new life into her, feeding her; she had found a home, a place of her own, and she didn’t want the feeling ever to leave. The quality of the kiss, so intimate, so tender, made her feel safe, needed, wanted. Her body melted beneath Gianna’s confident strength, moved rhythmically with the gentle rocking motion that had taken hold of them both, their contact shifting in waves from the lightest of touch to the most intense pressure, unhurried and yet driving her wild with desire.
*
Nikos sighed, turned his back to the scene on the beach and strolled into the olive grove, shaking his head.
*
Ariana stood back from the Mediterranean-blue shutters, brush in hand, wiped at the sweat on her brow and stretched. Admiring her work, the wet paint glistening in the sun, she smiled. It looked perfect and also showed up the not-so-white colour on the whitewashed walls. She rested the brush across the lid of the paint pot and wiped again at her salty damp face. It was hot! Picking up the pot and brush, she climbed the steps at the side of the house. Manos was nowhere in sight, but with three sets of shutters removed the front of the house looked decidedly bare.
Ariana dropped the paint pot at the garage, cleaned the brush in the kitchen sink and poured herself a glass of water. She wandered out onto the balcony overlooking the west-cove, and turned her head, her eyes closing into the light, warm breeze coming off the sea. Opening her eyes, she sipped at the water, placed the glass on the wall and rubbed at the tenderness in her forearm. Something about the exercise and the pleasing result felt good though. She congratulated herself, gazed out over the sea and across to the taverna, captivated by the easiness of life here. Manos appeared from the bar with plates in his hand, served them to the couple at the table and returned into the shade of the taverna. He had waited on her and Nikki once, when her mother had been sick, and she had escaped down to the west-cove, she recalled.