The Summer of Aphrodite

by Viva Jones

  And better still, it was nothing to do with Douglas. Just that piece of knowledge in itself was deeply assuring. She went back to his website where she continued to search, intrigued by what he referred to as Psychic Command, and the manipulation of others to do as you wished. If what he wrote really was possible, was he somehow exerting his influence over her, and why not Anna, Tanya and Ginnie, too, come to think of it? Anna had admitted she’d been having sexual fantasies about him, and there was definitely some kind of friction between him and Ginnie. And if Tanya was getting mixed up in prostitution, well, he most certainly knew enough about that.

  If he was manipulating them all, Nathalie resolved, she’d find out, and then she’d beat him at his own game.

  ***

  Tiggles was suddenly inundated with people wanting to adopt Grace’s kittens. It was as if the kittens’ fame would somehow reflect well on their new owners, Ginnie thought crossly, who’d probably never have wanted a cat otherwise. ‘Oh aren’t you good,’ she could imagine their friends exclaiming, ‘adopting a stray like that’. So popular had they become that they’d even appeared in the papers, in a photo with Nigel looking on proudly. And as for Nigel, well, Ginnie didn’t even want to think about him.

  ‘When will they be ready to leave?’ a mother in her thirties with two overly-lively children asked.

  ‘Not for another six weeks at least,’ Ginnie told her. As if! There was no way she was letting those two brats anywhere near her kittens. Ginnie felt unreasonably protective towards them now, and couldn’t bear for them to go to someone who wouldn’t dote on them for life like she would. This woman was clearly of the fly-by-night variety; the sort who’d dump them by the roadside the minute they clawed at her designer three piece suite.

  ‘Will you put our names down?’ the woman asked. ‘We’d like the ginger and the tortoise shell.’

  ‘Well, due to the heavy demand for these kittens I’m afraid I can’t guarantee anything. I’ll take your name and number, of course, but we’re not in a position just to give them out to anyone.’

  ‘Hello Ginnie, can I help at all?’ Nigel had appeared in the doorway.

  ‘I was just about to say,’ the woman started. ‘I’m sure my husband would like to make you a generous donation, so, what is the name to write on a cheque?’

  ‘Interested in the kittens, are you? Why don’t we go into my office?’ He ushered the family out.

  Ginnie stood there, incredulous. How could he undermine her like that? And what about the welfare of the kittens? Where were the checks? How did he know they didn’t live on a main road next door to an enormous dangerous dog? How long were they staying in Cyprus? Was he just going to let her have them because of the thickness of her husband’s cheque book? She stormed out in search of air, and found herself breaking down into tears of indignation. It wasn’t just the kittens, she realised. She and Nigel had an uneasy truce. It was in neither’s interest to raise what had happened between them, but he seemed to enjoy torturing her for it all the same. Suddenly Tiggles, formerly the centre of her world, felt fraught with complications.

  She was shaking and crying so much she failed to hear the gate opening, and to see a tall, well-built Cypriot with longish, dark hair entering, carrying what looked like recording equipment. He came towards her, concern on his face.

  ‘Miss, are you all right, Miss?’ As she looked up he hurriedly corrected himself. ‘Oh, sorry, Madam, perhaps?’

  ‘No,’ Ginnie snuffled, embarrassed. ‘Miss is fine.’

  ‘What is wrong with you?’ he asked softly. ‘Why are you crying like that?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Ginnie blew her nose into a tissue. ‘Just a bad day at the office.’

  ‘Come and sit down,’ he said soothingly. ‘And tell me all about it.’ He led her to the visitors’ bench Nigel had placed under the olive tree two years earlier.

  Sitting down, Ginnie began to compose herself. ‘I’m fine,’ she said primly. ‘I just got a little upset over something but I’m fine now, thank you.’

  She turned to face the stranger and was immediately taken with the kindness in his eyes, by that slightly too long hair, his tender, gentle mouth and by the complete lack of ring on any finger. He was in his late thirties, she thought, perhaps early forties, and had the body of someone who enjoyed his life, probably eating a little more than he should, and who wasn’t fanatical about exercise either. There was a softness about him which, with his tanned skin, he could get away with. But more importantly, he seemed full of the compassion that Ginnie felt most people lacked in life.

  ‘I’m sorry, my name’s Ginnie,’ she told him, holding out her hand.

  ‘Demetrius,’ he said with a smile, shaking her hand. ‘I’m from the local radio station. I’ve come to do an interview about the kittens.’

  ‘Oh, Nigel didn’t mention anything to me about it,’ Ginnie told him. But then, why should that surprise her? Suddenly she knew nothing about what was going on. ‘I’ll take you to him,’ she suggested, leading him to Nigel’s office. As they approached, they bumped into Nigel showing the family out. They were all smiles and handshakes and jokes about possible kittens’ names. How could he, Ginnie thought furiously. He’d been bought, and those poor little kittens sold down the river.

  ‘This is Demetrius, from the radio,’ Ginnie said tersely. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll be going home.’

  ‘So early, Ginnie?’ Nigel asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she hissed. Then she softened. ‘Goodbye Demetrius, it was a pleasure to meet you.’

  ‘The pleasure’s all mine,’ he said, fishing in his pocket for something. ‘Please.’ He offered her a business card. ‘In case you have any more news stories,’ he added sheepishly.

  Ginnie turned away awkwardly, tripping on a kerb stone as she did so. She stole a peek at Demetrius as she climbed into her car, at his long dark hair and masculine frame. Why would he give her his card? What news stories did he possibly expect her to have?

  Alternatively, she thought, pulling out of the centre, all those weeks of abstinence, all those affirmations and all that manifesting had worked!

  This was it, she realised with mounting excitement. She’d found her Adonis at last!

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  During her morning swim, Nathalie took action. Having read the instructions on Douglas’s website, she thought that it was her duty at least to give it a go. Floating on her back, she closed her eyes and started to breath deeply, in and out. Listening to the sound of her own breath, she tried to empty her mind, though still it raced, reminding her of the chores she’d failed to do and the shopping she needed and the course-work she was yet to finish. But gradually her thoughts cleared, and she could focus on an image she created in her mind. She was standing high up on a kind of podium, and beneath her sat Douglas, watching her. She felt ridiculous, but as the Magus himself had advised, it was the only way.

  ‘Douglas, I command you,’ she started saying in her mind, ‘to leave everyone at Fig Tree Villas alone. Stop playing games with us and leave. I would like health and happiness for you and for everyone else at the complex, but I command you to do us no ill.’

  She repeated it a couple of times, before her concentration began to slip, and then opened her eyes. She felt silly and naïve, but also deeply relaxed. She floated for a few minutes more, feeling the sun strengthening on her skin, before swimming back to shore.

  ***

  Ginnie had run up and delivered some curtains to a couple in Agios Giorgios, she’d taken the measurements for a tablecloth and matching napkins for a new customer in Konia, and had sourced what she thought might be just the right material for a dress for one of her regulars, but without her approval there was nothing else she could do.

  She checked the BBC website but there was still no breaking story of any import, so she flipped idly through the Lon
ely Hearts section of her local freebie, looking for inspiration. But her eyes kept darting to the box she kept on her desk, full of business cards. It was in there. The man with the warm eyes and overly long hair was just a phone call away. But could she do it?

  She took his card out and read it again, looking for the clue she hadn’t yet been able to find. Just one quick call and she might have a date, something to look forward to. She rehearsed the tone she might adopt: ‘Hi, it’s Ginnie here, from the cat centre,’ she tried breezily. But that didn’t sound right. ‘Look, I don’t want to give you the wrong impression,’ she started matter-of-factly, ‘but I was just having a bad day. I’ve been under a bit of stress lately what with sorting a major sponsorship deal with Odyssey.’

  She reached inside her bag for Nathalie’s oil and inhaled it, and as she did so, an idea came to her. The sponsorship deal - couldn’t the radio station cover the party? Surely Odyssey would want the publicity too? Her pulse quickening, Ginnie picked up the phone and dialled Tanya.

  ‘So he was good looking, then, this bloke?’ Tanya asked once Ginnie had finished explaining.

  ‘Bloody gorgeous if you must know.’

  ‘It’s just an excuse to contact him, isn’t it?’ Tanya said knowingly.

  ‘The publicity will do everyone good,’ Ginnie insisted, willing her friend to agree.

  ‘All right,’ Tanya said. ‘I’ll call them as soon as I can, only I’ve got a client due any minute now and I’m taking him round the show-house, so I might not get back to you straight away.’

  ‘Well, be as quick as you can,’ Ginnie told her. Now she had her excuse, Ginnie couldn’t wait to make the call.

  Tanya clicked shut her mobile just as Marinos walked in. He was good looking, she decided, in a Leonardo DiCaprio sort of way, though a bit baby-faced for her liking. Then there was the mysterious limp, did he have a club foot or something?

  ‘Morning, all ready, are you?’ she asked. ‘Come on then, we’ll take my car, shall we?’

  ‘Mine’s quite comfortable, if you prefer,’ he told her, indicating the Mercedes parked outside.

  Tanya did a double-take. ‘Did you just win the lottery or something?’

  He smiled. ‘That’s for me to know, and you to find out, innit?’

  She shook her head, laughing. She didn’t care if she was wasting her time, it made a nice outing and the day went by more quickly that way. She directed him to the show-house and gave him the full tour, as if he was a proper client. He looked around approvingly, but for much of the time she felt his eyes were on her.

  ‘So why didn’t you stay for a drink the other night, then?’ he asked eventually.

  ‘I told you, I wasn’t in the mood.’

  ‘Your boyfriend waiting for you, was he?’

  She giggled. ‘No, I’m a professional. I don’t stay out late when I’ve got work the next day.’

  ‘And you do well for yourself?’ He indicated her designer bag.

  Tanya blushed. If only he knew. ‘Why don’t you tell me what you do?’

  ‘Because it’s boring,’ he said.

  ‘And what’s with your limp, if you don’t mind my asking? Is it permanent?’

  ‘Bloody hope not. Broke my foot a while back.’

  ‘So you’re here recuperating, basically?’

  ‘Kind of. But I’m going back tomorrow.’

  ‘Ah.’ Tanya didn’t know what to say. ‘Well, if you want one of the houses, you know where to find me.’

  ‘Yeah, I do. And I do want one of them ’ouses. I want Adonis.’

  She giggled. ‘Better get back to the office then, organise the paperwork.’

  He drove her back in his nice, smooth Mercedes, and Tanya was just beginning to wonder whether she’d underestimated Marinos when her mobile went.

  ‘Hello, Tanya my dear, how are you?’ the familiar voice asked.

  ‘Mr Makhtabi,’ she gulped. ‘Where are you calling from?’

  ‘I’m in London, but I’ll come to Cyprus at the end of the week to attend your party and of course to see a special friend of mine.’

  ‘Oh.’ Tanya didn’t know what to think. She was feeling pretty flush now and didn’t know if she could go through all that again. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and whispered ‘Client’ to Marinos, who nodded understandingly.

  ‘You will attend the party?’ he continued.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she assured him. ‘I’ll be there.’

  ‘It’s the festival of Aphrodite, no? It’s a great occasion. Be ready for me.’

  Tanya hung up.

  ‘Everything all right?’ Marinos asked.

  ‘Oh yes, just one of your new neighbours. Zeus.’ What was she going to do about that man?

  ‘I wish I’d got to know you better,’ Marinos said suddenly.

  ‘Look, Marinos. D’you want a house or a date at the end of the day? Be honest with me.’

  ‘Both,’ he said, his eyes never leaving the road.

  ‘But you’re off tomorrow.’

  ‘I know.’

  They pulled up outside Tanya’s office and she leapt out. ‘You’ve got all the paperwork, now, haven’t you?’ she asked him as he slid the window open. ‘If you want to buy then just fax it over, OK?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll do that. D’you ever come to London?’

  ‘Not really. This is my home now.’

  ‘Next time you do, be sure to call me, eh?’

  Tanya nodded doubtfully. There was something about this boy - he was still so young after all - that she was finding hard to resist. But what was the point, she kept asking herself. He was just a kid, pretending to be someone special.

  ‘Well, look, you’ve got my details, haven’t you?’ Marinos asked. ‘My address and stuff.’

  ‘Yes.’ She glanced at his client form. Then she said, ‘Look, Marinos, you’re wasting your time, you know. I’m sorry, but at the end of the day, you’re just not my type.’

  He nodded sadly, then revved up his engine and drove off. Tanya stood there, shaking her head. One day, she thought. One day a real man would come along, someone who’d really know how to treat her, and who wouldn’t resort to borrowing his uncle’s car or something. Who wouldn’t need to go to elaborate lengths to get a date.

  Until then, she had Mr Makhtabi to contend with, which didn’t fill her with relish.

  She decided not to think about him, or any of these men, but called the Odyssey publicity manager and told him about the radio station instead. He agreed that it sounded like a good idea, and told her to go ahead with it. As she called Ginnie back, Tanya reflected on what a strange boy Marinos was, so intense and mysterious, and yet so young? She decided to put all these men behind her and concentrate on the important things in life.

  Whatever they were these days.

  ***

  Ginnie inhaled her oil mix and dialled his number, her foot tapping with impatience. She told herself not to be disappointed if she only got his answering machine, and to sound natural at all times.

  He answered sooner than she expected.

  ‘Demetrius? It’s Ginnie Clark here, from the cat rescue centre. Do you remember?’

  ‘Ginnie, of course I remember. How could I forget those beautiful eyes? How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ she said with an embarrassed giggle. He sounded genuinely pleased to hear from her.

  ‘You’ve stopped crying now, I hope?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Ginnie laughed girlishly. How she loved the way he said his aitches. ‘I’m sorry you saw me like that. That wasn’t me, you know, I’m usually such a positive, get up and go sort of person.’

  ‘Of course you are, and I could see that, too. But something had upset you.’

  ‘I was just under stress, that’s
all. I’ve been working too hard lately. Which is why I’m calling. You wanted to know if I’ve got any more news stories. Well, I think I might have.’ She told him about the sponsorship deal and the party.

  ‘Will you be there?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘Then I’ll be happy to come. Perhaps we can even go together?’

  Ginnie’s heart soared. When was the last time she ever attended an event with someone? It was almost too good to be true.

  They made arrangements to meet and Ginnie poured herself a celebratory peach smoothie.

  Would he even stay with her through to Richard’s surprise party later that afternoon? Ginnie could hardly bear to dream.

  ***

  As the afternoon sun lost its intensity, Nathalie spotted Anna and her mother at the pool, and joined them. She wanted to meet the woman who’d so damaged her lover’s self-confidence. After introductions and some polite conversation, Audrey, who’d enjoyed a good lunch, started to doze off.

  ‘How’s it going?’ Nathalie asked Anna in a whisper.

  ‘As well as can be expected. Richard and I are tense and unhappy, while she swans around like she owns the place.’

  ‘And the plans for the party?’

  ‘I seem to be on top of things. Barry’s definitely coming back to do the catering - I tried to dissuade him but he’s insisting. I think he’s missing this place. I was going to ask everyone if they could store bits and bobs in their fridges, so Richard doesn’t get suspicious. Then the plan is, he goes to work that morning as usual, and when he gets back, he’ll go up to change and when he comes down - surprise! - there’s drinks and a lunch buffet all laid out and his friends leap from out of the rental home.’