The Olive Tree

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘It was only my little joke, Auntie Helena, a bit of a jape, but unfortunately, I now seem to have mislaid the rabbit. He’s vanished. Sorry and all that, but surely it was only a TOY.’

  Urgh. I feel sick at the thought. That route would certainly achieve the result of my mother having to finally cut the crap and agree Rupes is an out-and-out tosser, but I doubt it would bring my poor little friend back to me safe and sound.

  It would also make me appear to be the mummy’s boy Rupes believes I am. And as I have ten days left with him here, I dread to think of all the ghastly forms of mental and physical torture he may come up with.

  My life may well be at risk, let alone my little friend’s.

  ‘Oops! So sorry, Auntie Helena. I was standing right next to Alex on the terrace, and I watched him as he leant just a little too far over the balustrade. I did my best to pull him back before he tumbled one thousand feet to his grisly death, but it was just too late.’

  I shudder. Am I being paranoid here? Rupes might be a bully and a toerag, but is he a murderer?

  Possibly. So . . .

  Option 2:

  I can agree to his request.

  Result: Bee is saved, I am saved and Rupes gets to snog Chloë.

  Perhaps the last option is worse than me and my bunny’s joint execution. To say the Sword of Damocles is hanging over me would be a grave understatement.

  Come on, Alex, think! Surely this is where your super-duper, top-of-the-range-with-added-torque-and-spoilers IQ comes in? The pain-in-the-bum ‘gift’ – ‘Oh, Alex’s intellect separates him, makes him abnormal, a nerd, a boffin, a plonker’ – that God has saddled me with?

  Just for the record, I am none of the above. I am crap at figures, and Einstein’s Theory of Relativity reads like Serbo-Croat to me. When Serbo-Croat existed, which it doesn’t anymore, except probably in secret underground dens across what used to be Yugoslavia. But isn’t any more.

  And finally, after eating two slightly melted Crunchie bars I’d been saving for emergencies in my rucksack, a plan is taking shape in my agile brain.

  I know I cannot outwit Rupes the Ruthless physically. He could pluck me and string me up next to my poor little friend with a couple of index fingers. Even though the branch would probably break if he did so.

  But I can write a mean essay. In at least a couple of different languages.

  ιβ′

  Twelve

  Having arrived home and left Immy and Fred eating delicious freshly baked buns in the kitchen with Angelina, Helena found William upstairs in the bathroom, still wet from a shower. ‘How are things with Sacha?’

  ‘He took a taxi to the airport about an hour ago to fly to London. He’ll be in the office first thing tomorrow to call in the official receiver.’

  ‘What’s Jules had to say about that?’

  ‘I haven’t seen her. Angelina says she came back here at lunchtime, then went out again with Rupes.’

  ‘Is Sacha going to call her?’

  ‘He has. Or at least, he’s left a message on her mobile saying there’s a problem and he’s had to return home. She’s obviously still got her mobile switched off. To Sacha, at least.’ William sighed as he dried himself. ‘He’s not in good shape at all.’

  ‘I’m sure. How long will he be gone?’

  ‘He said he’d call tomorrow evening to let me know the score.’

  ‘But surely he’s got to talk to Jules face to face as soon as possible?’

  ‘I agree, but what can we do? To be fair, he did try to speak to her this morning, but she said she hadn’t got time to chat and flounced off in the car with Rupes.’

  ‘So,’ Helena sighed, ‘this means we have to pretend everything is fine, while secretly knowing they’re all about to be homeless and penniless?’

  ‘It looks like it, yes.’

  ‘How will Jules feel if she finds out we knew and she didn’t? She’s a woman who likes to be in control.’ Helena switched on the shower to find only a meagre trickle of lukewarm water.

  William buttoned up his shirt. ‘Hopefully, he’ll call her tomorrow when he’s done the dirty deed. And she and the kids will have to fly home. By the way, Alexis called round earlier. He wanted to know if we’d mind if he brought his grandmother to see Pandora. She’s very old and fragile apparently, and used to work here a long time ago.’

  ‘She did.’ Helena nodded as she stepped under the trickle. ‘She was Angus’ first housekeeper – in situ when he bought the house, and still going strong when I came here last time. Angus told me that she and Alexis’ grandfather met across a crowded vineyard.’

  ‘I asked them round for a drink at seven. I felt I couldn’t refuse.’

  ‘Thanks. She seemed ancient when I knew her. God knows how old she must be now. From what I remember’ – Helena shivered slightly – ‘she’s a little . . . strange. Right, I’d better get a move on.’

  Chloë had offered to bath the little ones, and when Helena arrived downstairs, all three of them were snuggled on the sofa together watching Snow White.

  Helena kissed her clean, sweet-smelling son on top of his shiny head.

  ‘You okay, darling?’

  Fred didn’t bother to remove the bottle of milk he was drinking. He shifted it to the corner of his mouth like a smouldering cigarette. ‘Wanted Power Ragers, not girls’ storwee.’

  ‘I said it’s your turn to choose tomorrow night,’ Chloë said to him firmly.

  ‘Not fair.’ Having made his protest, Fred twirled his hair round his finger and sucked away contentedly.

  ‘Thanks, Chloë,’ Helena said gratefully.

  ‘No probs. I love Disney films anyway. I’ll put them to bed when it’s finished.’

  ‘See you at dinner.’ Helena walked onto the terrace to find Jules back from her travels, with a heap of glossy brochures on the table in front of her.

  ‘Now this one has the most spectacular view,’ she was saying to Sadie. ‘Even better than the one here, I think. It’s set in an acre, has four bedrooms and a stunning twenty-metre pool.’

  William, who had appeared behind her holding a tray of glasses and wine, raised an eyebrow at his wife. ‘Anyone for a drink?’ he said as he set the tray down on the table.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Jules eagerly. ‘Hello, Helena. Viola says you had a lovely day at the beach. Thanks for taking her.’

  ‘We did. You?’

  Jules grinned. ‘I’ve been house-hunting.’

  ‘Have you?’ Helena held onto her fixed smile as she took a glass from William.

  ‘I mean, I have a little money put aside from my late mother’s bequest, so why not use it to buy something here? I can put the cash towards a deposit and Sacha can damn well take out a mortgage from one of the brokers he spends so much time with in the City and stump up for the rest. All our friends have a house abroad but Sacha has always refused to contemplate it. He says it’s too much hassle if something goes wrong. Which means we end up every year having to rely on friends in places that aren’t up to scratch. And I do so hate being a guest.’

  No one could think of a thing to say in response to this, so Jules continued obliviously, ‘I’ve decided it’s time I made a decision. So, we’re going to buy a house. Cheers!’

  ‘Cheers!’ The others toasted with her and took hefty, fortifying gulps of their wine.

  ‘The property market is doing so well here, and it’s not much different from buying at home, especially as all the rules are changing now Cyprus has joined the EU. A charming young man explained it all to me this afternoon. They manage the property for you when you’re not here and let it out. So you get an income and, with the capital growth, it’s got to be a good investment, don’t you think, William?’

  ‘I don’t know the market here, Jules. I’d have to study it before I could give you an answer.’

  Jules tapped her nose. ‘Trust me, I have a good instinct for these things. Remember I was a successful estate agent before I had Rupes. Besides, it’ll give our fa
mily what we need – our own house in the sun, where we can entertain our friends.’

  ‘Have you spoken to Sacha about this?’ William managed to croak.

  ‘No,’ Jules responded airily. ‘I’ve decided to count him out of the holiday altogether. If he comes back, he might be in for a bit of a surprise. Who knows?’ She laughed loudly. ‘Anyway, I’m off for what I hope is a hot shower. Viola’s in the pool with Rupes. Keep an eye out, will you?’

  When Jules had left, the three of them sat in silence for a while, lost for words.

  Eventually Sadie said under her breath, ‘She really is a piece of work, that one.’

  ‘I’m sure she doesn’t mean half the things she says,’ said Helena, standing up. ‘I’m just going in to check on supper. You two carry on.’

  ‘Sacha is one of the most charming men I’ve ever met,’ said Sadie in a low voice. ‘What on earth did he see in Jules? You should know, William. You’re his oldest friend.’

  ‘I agree. He was always a sucker for a pretty face, ever since our schooldays together,’ he mused. ‘When we were at Oxford, he was surrounded by endless gorgeous blondes. Then he left university and met Jules a year or so later, when she was already working as an estate agent. She was the antithesis of his past girlfriends: sensible, bright and grounded.’

  ‘If he wanted someone to take him in hand and sort him out, he definitely made the right choice,’ murmured Sadie.

  ‘I think that’s exactly what he wanted. She was actually rather sweet and attractive when she was younger,’ William continued. ‘And she adored Sacha, would have done anything for him. She basically bankrolled his ambition to become an artist after he left Oxford, when his parents refused to give him another penny.’

  ‘Well, something must have gone horribly wrong for her to have become so bitter,’ Sadie remarked.

  ‘If I remember, it all seemed to go wrong when Jules got pregnant with Rupes and couldn’t work full-time anymore, meaning Sacha had to get a proper job. He should never have gone into the City, to be honest. He couldn’t even keep track of his own expenses, let alone look after other people’s money. They gave him a job simply because he was charming and had aristocratic connections.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s what made him so appealing to Jules. She’s obviously socially aspirational,’ said Sadie.

  ‘She was incredibly ambitious for them, yes,’ William agreed, ‘and thrilled when he got offered a position in Singapore. Unfortunately, it’s dog-eat-dog in the City these days – more of a meritocracy. The old school tie’s been locked back in the trunk where it belongs. You stand or fall on ability alone. And Sacha has fallen big time.’

  ‘Jesus, what a mess,’ said Sadie, turning at the sound of footsteps. ‘Oh, look who’s here.’

  ‘Gia sas. I hope I do not interrupt you.’

  Alexis stood behind them. Leaning on his arm was a tiny, shrivelled lady, bent double with arthritis and old age. She was dressed in traditional Cypriot black – Immy’s nightmare – and Helena, reappearing from the kitchen, walked forward to greet her.

  ‘Christina. It’s been such a long time.’ Helena bent down and kissed the old woman on both cheeks.

  Christina looked up at her, and put a claw-like hand round Helena’s. She mumbled something in Greek, her voice thin, strained, as though it was an effort to speak. Then she looked up at Pandora and smiled, revealing an incomplete set of blackened teeth. She raised a shaky hand and whispered to Alexis.

  ‘She is asking if you would mind stepping inside with her, Helena,’ he translated.

  ‘Of course not. William, would you pop inside and check whether Chloë’s taken the little ones upstairs yet?’ Helena was reluctant to let Immy or Fred see Christina just before bedtime, given that she bore more than a passing resemblance to a witch.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said William, understanding immediately and moving swiftly towards the house.

  ‘I’ll go and chivvy Viola out of the pool,’ Sadie suggested, standing up. ‘She must be prune-like by now.’

  Alexis and Helena helped Christina slowly across the terrace towards the drawing room.

  ‘How ill is she?’ asked Helena quietly.

  ‘She says she is tired of living, that her time here on Earth is up. So she will die soon,’ Alexis said, matter-of-factly.

  They walked into the recently emptied drawing room, and Helena pointed to one of the high-backed winged chairs. ‘I think she would be the most comfortable in that.’

  The two of them settled Christina into it, then sat on either side of her. Her eyes flitted around the room and Helena could see their alertness, which belied the fragility of the body in which they were housed.

  Her gaze came to rest on Helena. She stared unwaveringly until Helena had to avert her eyes; then she began to speak in fast Greek.

  ‘She says you are very beautiful,’ Alexis said, ‘and that you look very like someone she once knew, who came here to stay very often.’

  ‘Really?’ Helena said. ‘Someone else said that to me recently. Who was she? Can you ask?’

  Alexis held up his hand as he concentrated on what his grandmother was saying.

  ‘She says a secret is harboured here and . . .’ Alexis paused, and looked down at his hands.

  ‘What?’ Helena urged him.

  ‘That it is kept by you,’ he murmured, embarrassed.

  Helena’s heart began to pound steadily against her chest. ‘Everyone has secrets, Alexis,’ she said softly, but he wasn’t listening. He was staring at his grandmother, his eyes troubled as she continued to talk. He said something to her in Greek, shaking his head as Christina continued to babble. Suddenly, the old woman’s energy seemed to dissipate and she crumpled back into her chair, silent now, and closed her eyes.

  Alexis pulled out a snowy-white handkerchief and mopped his brow. ‘My apologies, Helena. She is a very old woman. I should not have brought her here. Come, we must take you home,’ he said gently to Christina.

  ‘Please tell me, Alexis, what was it she was trying to say?’

  ‘Nothing, it was nothing. The ramblings of a confused old lady, that is all.’ Alexis reassured her as he half walked, half carried Christina towards the French windows. ‘You must take no notice. I am sorry to disturb your evening. Antio, Helena.’

  As she watched them leave, Helena hung on to one of the doors for support. She felt faint, breathless, sick . . .

  ‘Darling, are you all right?’ A strong arm supported her round the waist.

  ‘Yes, I . . .’

  ‘Come and sit down. I’ll get you a glass of water.’

  William helped her to the sofa and while he went to the kitchen, Helena tried to regain her composure. Angus had always said, years ago, that Christina was mad. He’d tolerated her strange ways for her wonderful housekeeping skills, plus the fact she spoke no English and was therefore unable to repeat gossip from the house locally.

  William came back with the water and took her hand in his. ‘You’re freezing, Helena.’ He felt her forehead. ‘Are you ill?’

  ‘No, no . . . I’ll be fine, really.’ Helena sipped the water he’d given her.

  ‘What did she say to upset you?’

  ‘Nothing, really. I think I’m just . . .’

  ‘Exhausted.’

  ‘Yes. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be okay. I’m feeling better already, honestly.’ She looked at him and nodded, then stood up. As she did so, her legs wobbled beneath her and she clutched at her husband’s arm.

  ‘Right. That’s it. I’m taking you upstairs and putting you to bed. And I don’t want a word of protest out of you.’

  He lifted her easily into his arms and carried her towards the stairs.

  ‘But what about supper? I’ve got to check the moussaka . . .’

  ‘I said I didn’t want a word of protest out of you. In case you didn’t already know, I am actually capable of putting a meal on the table. And I have a willing band of helpers who can damn well pitch in, too.’ William lai
d her down gently on the bed. ‘Just for once, darling, trust me. Pandora’s world is able to turn for a few hours without you. You need some rest.’

  ‘Thank you, darling,’ she said, still feeling horribly faint.

  ‘Helena, you really are pale. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?’

  ‘No. I’m just tired, that’s all.’

  ‘You know,’ he said, gently kissing her forehead, ‘if there was something, whatever it is, I can cope with it. I promise.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow. Don’t tell the kids anything, will you? You know how Alex goes into a panic the moment I’m not one hundred per cent.’

  ‘I’ll say you’re having an early night. That is allowed, you know.’ He smiled and stood up. ‘Try and get some sleep.’

  ‘I will.’

  William left the room and walked slowly towards the stairs, knowing that however much his wife denied it, the old woman had said something to upset her. He only wished to God she would open up to him, tell him what she thought and felt.

  There was no doubt Helena hid secrets; for example, the identity of Alex’s father. And, given Helena’s underlying tension and the almost constant presence of Alexis, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together and come up with what the likely scenario was.

  That would technically mean his wife was a liar, as she’d sworn she hadn’t seen him since her stay here twenty-four years ago.

  Here at Pandora, it seemed Helena’s past had collided with her present – and for that matter, his. Surely he now had a right to know?

  He’d leave her be for now, but as William descended the stairs, he decided he wouldn’t leave Pandora without knowing the truth.

  ALEX’S DIARY

  July 19th (continued)

  Well.

  That was a fun evening.

  Dante’s Inferno without the excitement of the Inferno. Everyone sat at the table and looked as if their genitals were about to be barbecued. Granted, we were eating Dad’s chicken wings (he’d forgotten to take out the moussaka, which burnt to a crisp, and he had to resort to the one method of cooking he knew). But they weren’t that bad, just a little on the charcoaled side.