"We've had a couple," Sandra said, suppressing her amusement. "We have a little grandson now."
"Here."
Presumably this did duty as a question. "He should be on the ferry at this moment," Ray said.
"Coming here." Her next question sounded somewhat more like one. "Where you are?"
"Staying, do you mean? The Sunny View."
"You stay home."
Ray was too bewildered not to ask "Why should we have done that? We like what we've seen so far."
"Home." As if she was sharing an unfavourable view of men and their comprehension she told Sandra "Home at Sunny View."
"Well, I think we'll be having some days out," Sandra said. "We'd like to explore your island."
"Not all." The old woman shut her wrinkled eyelids while she said "Not Sunset Beach."
"I shouldn't think we're tempted," Ray said, "but why not there?"
"Not for you."
"I think we rather had that impression," Sandra said.
Her hint of humour seemed to provoke the old woman, who made a visible bid to marshal her language. "They not like us."
"They aren't so very different from how we were at their age."
"And it wasn't very long ago," Ray said, "that we were teaching people just like them when they weren't much younger."
The old woman abandoned trying to communicate. She didn't so much plant each item on the counter as thump it with them. She let Sandra fumble over opening a carrier bag, and Ray had the impression that she regarded visitors as more necessary than welcome. He hoisted the bottles against his chest, and as soon as he emerged from the supermarket the heat seemed to weigh on them. The Sunny View was less than a quarter of a mile away, but his forearms began to ache before he'd trudged half the distance. They were throbbing by the time he reached the viny arch. As he stumbled across the courtyard Evadne looked out of the office and then ran to him. "You must not carry those," she cried. "Next time call Stavros."
She seized the six-pack and marched ahead, jogging up the steps to the apartment. She was still holding the bottles when Ray arrived with the bag he'd taken from Sandra, who unlocked the door to reveal the apartment had been serviced. Even the flowers on the pillows had been renewed. "Thank you for everything," Ray said.
"It is only little," Evadne said. "We value what guests bring."
She stood the bottles on top of the refrigerator and closed the apartment door so gently that she might have been quitting a sickroom. As Sandra unloaded her bag into the refrigerator she said "Are you hungry?"
Ray tried not to sound too urgent. "Are you?"
"I feel as if I need to eat. I'll have a bite."
"Would olives and cheese do the job?"
"Or we could go out for lunch. We can try somewhere close so we'll see when everyone arrives."
Ray tried to keep surprise out of his voice. "Let's do that by all means."
They were making for the door when Sandra laid a not entirely steady hand on his arm. "Remember, we mustn't give them any reason to suspect. As far as they're concerned nothing's wrong."
"We'll keep them all happy. We're a team," Ray said, but he'd been reminded how hard the next thirteen days might be.
***
The nearest taverna was across the road, in sight of the Sunny View. Beyond a low white wall draped with a mass of sapphire flowers, Chloe's Garden contained a dozen tables among pots of basil, while as many tables surrounded a bar and kitchen under a roof. As Ray and Sandra took their places by the wall a slim long-faced young woman with glossy amber skin brought them menus. "You will have wine."
It scarcely bothered sounding like a question. "How did you know?" Sandra said.
"You bought some before."
"Small place, hey? Nothing goes unnoticed." Ray wasn't certain whether to be disconcerted or amused. "We'll have a litre of your white wine from the barrel,"
"And one of water too, please," Sandra said.
By the time the waitress brought this in a bottle and the wine in a red clay jug, the Thorntons had made their selection: calamari, whitebait, beans the menu called gigantic, pork in wine. "Yammas," the waitress wished them, and they raised their glasses in response. "Yammas," Ray said to Sandra, and was reminded that the word meant health.
He was watching her sip her wine more minutely than she used to when the waitress returned with plates and a basket of bread. "Do you mind if we sit somewhere a bit shadier?" Sandra said. "We'll still see the coach."
She dropped her hat on an empty chair once they were seated in the shadow of a pine. "At least my wife won't get bitten here," Ray said.
"I pray not," the waitress said quite like a prayer. "Why do you say?"
"You're keeping off the insects." He pointed at the pot of basil behind Sandra and then at her neck. "Would that have been a mosquito?"
"None here."
"That's what I said. There must have been one on our balcony last night, though."
"There should not be that. You should not go out there again."
"I expect we'll be all right," Ray said. "We'll use a spray."
A handbell jangled in the kitchen, where a short plump woman was placing dishes on a tray. The waitress served them to the Thorntons and said "Yammas" once again, and might have been about to say more if the older woman hadn't called "Daphne." As Daphne returned to the kitchen Ray picked up the serving spoon from the dish of jumbo beans in sauce. "Would you like some?" he prompted Sandra.
"You take yours and I'll get my own."
He sensed that she was stopping barely short of telling him not to fuss. Watching her eat could be construed that way, but he risked saying "It's good, isn't it?" since the dishes were, and didn't think her agreement was just meant to reassure him. Having waited until she'd had a mouthful of every item, he was heartened to see her take another of each. Was Daphne arguing with the woman he'd deduced was Chloe, her mother? Between Greeks a chat about the weather could sound fierce enough for a declaration of war, but he wondered why both women kept glancing towards him and Sandra. While he didn't understand a word, he saw Chloe reach a decision, folding her arms as she stepped out of the kitchen. At that moment Sandra cried "Is this them?"
A bus was approaching along the road from Sunset Beach. Sandra took off her sunglasses and craned over the wall. When the bus halted in front of the Sunny View she backed out of the sunlight, shading her eyes with her free hand. The door of the bus folded open, and she squeezed Ray's arm. Did she mean to convey that the deception was about to begin? Perhaps that wasn't on her mind, since she said eagerly "It is."
She began to wave as soon as the first passenger stepped down, and Ray saw Chloe retreat with a shrug into the kitchen. Doug was leading the way off the bus, followed by Pris and their son Tim. They all had their habitual contentedly dishevelled look, as if they were windblown and ready for more. "Mum, dad," Doug shouted, which seemed faintly to pain Natalie's partner Julian, who was busy giving the village a critical look. Natalie's daughter Jonquil was behind him, although not too close, and shook a hand at Ray and Sandra in her teenage version of a wave. Last came five-year-old William with Natalie at his back. She raised a hand to greet her parents while blinking not entirely favourably at the apartments and tavernas. "It's grandma and grandad," William shouted and made to run to them.
One long step took Julian in front of him. "What have we discussed about behaviour on the road?"
"But there isn't any traffic, daddy."
"We aren't talking about traffic. What did we agree?"
"Not to run out on it." Inspiration widened William's eyes as he said "But we're on it, so—"
"I'm not about to argue with you, William. We never run on the road, and we never cross it by ourselves."
"I'll take him over, Julian," Jonquil said.
"Your mother and I would prefer you to deal with your luggage. Please check while you're unpacking that all your things and William's are numbered."
That didn't mean counted, Ray knew. Julian
had introduced the principle that any items even slightly likely to be lost should bear his and Natalie's phone numbers. "Is all the family here?" Evadne called as she and Stavros crossed the courtyard. "You leave your bags with us. We will put them in your rooms."
"Thank you very much," Natalie said, "but we'll see to them. Come along, William. You carry on with your meal," she told her parents, "and we'll say hello properly soon."
"Some of us will now," Doug declared, striding to embrace Sandra and then Ray. He swept his hair back from his high forehead as if to tug more eagerness into his elongated wide-eyed face, where the nose and chin competed for largeness and prominence. "How's Pris's choice and mine so far?" he said.
"We wouldn't ask for better," Sandra said.
"Then here's hoping you both have the time you deserve."
Ray was aware that Sandra wasn't speaking, and he found he couldn't either. "And let's hope the quiet will do for Nat and Jules," Doug said, "though it can't be as quiet as Sunset Beach."
"You'll be joking, will you?" Ray assumed.
"When we came through there just now we didn't see a living soul except for the ones who got off the bus."
"They'll all be in bed with hangovers," Sandra said. "You had a few of those at their age."
"I wasn't quite that bad, was I? Our driver didn't seem to think too much of them. They get used up at night, he said."
"So does their money," Ray observed. "I should think the locals don't mind that, or ours either."
"We got the feeling he was glad to have them on the island but didn't want to be." Doug frowned as if his brows might squeeze the notion into focus, then abandoned the task. "I'll go and see how the others are doing," he said. "We want it to be good for everyone."
Sandra watched him cross the road and the marble courtyard before she took another mouthful from her plate, and Ray replenished her wineglass by way of encouragement. Once he'd cleared his own plate he eyed the Sunny View until Sandra said "Have some more. Don't wait for me."
"I don't mind waiting," he said, a tame version of the truth. Suppose sensing that he hoped she would eat more only made her stubborn? He helped himself to a small portion from each dish, and was lingering over them so as not to finish before Sandra when he heard footsteps approaching the courtyard.
As Jonquil and William came in sight he was ashamed to feel he wouldn't mind if they were on their own, and did his best to be equally pleased to see not just their mother but William's father behind them. "Be careful on the road," Natalie said.
"You heard mum," Jonquil said as though to demonstrate she hadn't been addressed as well.
She took the boy's hand to lead him to the taverna, letting go a few yards short of the wall, an act that plainly failed to please his parents. He dashed to hug Sandra and then Ray, and Jonquil followed with not much less of an embrace. Natalie outdid it for vigour—Ray felt some of her bones creak—after which Julian shook his hand, having clasped Sandra's shoulders. "I'm sorry if we seemed at all abrupt when we arrived," Julian said. "We wouldn't want you to assume we weren't glad to see you."
"We're just as happy to see you, aren't we, Sandra?" Ray said.
"Then everybody's satisfied." Julian straightened his prominent lips as if to underline his sharp nose and turned not quite towards the younger members of the family. "Now I believe someone has some words for their grandparents."
William marched forward, hands behind his back. His face was a miniature edition of his father's, and the pale blue eyes looked even bigger for their setting, "I'm sorry—"
"You can speak more clearly than that, William," Natalie said.
"I'm sorry I caused trouble on the road."
"That's the fellow," Julian said. "I don't know if anyone else feels they ought to speak."
He hadn't changed his stance. Jonquil's face grew blank—the deep brown eyes and broad snub nose that recalled her father's, as the expansiveness of her pink lips did, and even her soft short reddish hair. When he didn't hear from her Julian's pout grew less inadvertent. "Was your insurance all it should be, Raymond?" he said.
"It's everything we asked for," Ray said.
As he saw Sandra relax, having shared the thought he'd kept unspoken, Daphne came over. "Welcome to our garden. Will you join your friends?"
"Our family." Julian gazed at her as if this ought to have been obvious. "We had a sandwich on the ferry, thank you," he said. "Just a bottle of water for us."
"Be together," Daphne urged.
With his help she shoved the nearest table against Ray's and Sandra's, and then she headed for the bar. "How's your accommodation?" Sandra said.
"Jonquil's sleeping in my room," William announced.
"I think we should say it's both yours and hers," Natalie said. "I'm sure Doug booked the best he could for us."
"He didn't say who had which room, did he?" Jonquil said.
"You won't expect William to share ours at his age," Julian retorted. "And I can't image you would want to, not that there's any question."
"Did Uncle Doug say how many rooms we had to have?"
"No, the man who paid did. You might have had a say if you were contributing."
"We're roughing it as well, Jonquil," her mother said. "We're here to have a good time with your grandparents, so let's try."
Ray attempted but failed not to ask her "What's the matter with your room?"
Natalie widened her eyes and seemed to gaze inwards, an expression he'd known ever since she was a child. Her face was a composite of Sandra's and his own, small and delicate except for the nose he was responsible for, as brightly blue-eyed as her mother used to be, pinkly thin-lipped. "We're supposed to have a suite," Julian said, "so we would have expected at the very least a bathroom."
"With a mirror in," Jonquil said.
Daphne was setting glasses on the table. Ray thought she was about to speak, but once she'd poured the water she went back to the kitchen. "Just let Evadne know you want a mirror," he said.
"She ought to know without having to be told. Too many people are like that these days." Perhaps Julian was looking not at but past Jonquil. "Well," he said, "here's the organiser."
Pris and Tim as well as Doug were crossing the Sunny View courtyard. Pris had tugged her long blonde hair into a pony-tail, which made her broad large-featured face look even more primed for excitement. She hugged Ray and Sandra, and then fifteen-year-old Tim had a turn, leaning down from the height that seemed increasingly to embarrass him. His face was mostly Doug's but more inclined to blush. "We were just discussing the mirror situation," Julian told Doug.
"You haven't got one either, then. Even we thought that was odd."
"Maybe it's a religious issue," Pris said, "and they don't want people to be vain."
"It's not their place to dictate how their customers behave," Julian said. "That isn't to say there aren't people who could be less concerned about themselves."
Ray was relieved to see Evadne approaching. "We'll have a jug of wine," Doug said. "Three glasses for us, and anyone else?"
Julian gave fifteen-year-old Jonquil a sharp glance. "Just your three," he said.
"Fair enough, save yourselves for dinner. And mum and dad, don't let us interrupt your lunch."
"I think I've finished," Sandra said, laying her utensils to rest.
Apparently Julian had been waiting for Evadne to depart before he enquired "And what's this business about knocking twice?"
"You find that all over Greece," Pris said. "It's to do with the vrykolakas."
"What's one of those?" Tim said and sent Jonquil an anticipatory grin.
"The local style of spirit. If you don't invite them the first time they'll find someone else."
"What's local about them?" Jonquil said. "I mean, what's special?"
"Some of us don't need to know," her mother interrupted, twitching her head to indicate William. "Remember we said we'd see everyone has a nice time."
"Yes, Jonquil," Julian said, "that's quite enough," and
Ray was grateful yet again for Daphne's reappearance. As Daphne brought the tray over he saw Jonquil's face revert to introverted blankness even though Tim had sent her a sympathetic wink. Ray felt for her too, though he wasn't sorry that the subject had been suppressed. Where the family was concerned, far worse was being left unspoken.
***
Ray was watching Tim and Jonquil spin William on the grinning roundabout beyond the gap in the apartment block when Evadne came to find the family by the pool. "Your ride is here," she said.
"Not ours," Julian said before anyone else could speak.
"Yes, to go to Sunset Beach."
"Then it's certainly not ours. We've no intention of going anywhere near such a place."
"Sam from your travel will meet you there."
Doug took the invitation out of the envelope. "This says we're to wait here."
"Yes, to be taken."
"She said nothing about that to us," Julian objected. "And it's emphatically not somewhere we want our son to be."
"There won't be too much activity this early in the evening, do you think?" Natalie said.
"I believe I've made my view clear."
"I will tell the driver you are talking," Evadne said and left them.
"I could stay with William," Sandra said. "If there are any trips you think I'd like, Ray, you can book them."
"I was going to propose we vote," Julian said, "once we've heard the options."
"Do we need to?" Pris wondered. "If there's something some of us aren't up for, they can do something else."
"I understood the aim was to keep the family together." As Pris looked more abashed than Ray thought she had any reason to feel, Julian said "In the interests of fairness, everyone should choose what we do for a day."
"How," Doug said, "if mum isn't there?"
"You can phone William and me when you know what's on offer," Sandra said. "I'd like to sit him while I have the chance." She pushed herself off the lounger and made for the play area, calling "I'm going to play with you now, William."
Thirteen Days By Sunset Beach Page 3