The Greek Escape

by Karen Swan

  It was almost more than she could bear, having them both here, in the flesh, and several times, Chloe had had to hold back the violent urge to grab her sister by the arm and beg her not to leave, to move here too. Suddenly, London felt an awfully long way away and several times over the past few weeks, she found herself wondering why she and Tom were still here. She had only come here to set up a new life away from him; wasn’t it ironic then that her new life here was with him? She wondered what Alexander would have to say about that. New York hadn’t been anywhere near far enough away in the end. Not even close.

  But London wasn’t the warm home it had once been to Tom, for one thing. The break-up with Lucy had proved messy and many of their friends, scandalized by his long-standing affair, had sided with her. His home town wasn’t going to be welcoming him back with open arms any time soon.

  He kept trying to persuade Jack to do a job swap and move back to London instead, the headquarters needed one of them there after all, but Jack was proving resistant. Things were still strained between them both, for reasons Chloe didn’t fully understand, and as Jack argued, he’d already been the one to uproot his life once before; why did it have to be him making the sacrifice again? (To be honest, Chloe thought he had a point.)

  So, as a temporary measure, Tom had moved in with her; it was just for while they decided on their future and what it looked like, but her apartment was tiny even just for one and they had already begun to bicker as they tripped over stray shoes and ran out of toothpaste. Tom had looked at various fancy apartments on the Upper East Side but they were all far too big and expensive for just one person and Chloe wouldn’t discuss moving in together; not yet. Wanting things to work between them wasn’t the same as wanting to rush headlong into the future; those four years of lies and deception were proving harder to forgive or forget than she’d anticipated and she needed time to come to terms with everything that had happened. Her head couldn’t quite catch up with her heart. Or vice versa, she wasn’t sure which it was.

  ‘Forget it,’ Elle said, tearing back the curtain in a huff and thrusting the prom dress at the stall owner. ‘Like anyone is ever going to get into that.’

  ‘Don’t mind her, she’s just hangry,’ Chloe said apologetically to the poor woman.

  ‘I am not!’ Elle protested. ‘I’m just fed up with clothes being made for anorexic midgets.’

  ‘You’re always evil if you don’t eat every ninety minutes and we’re now . . .’ She checked her phone. ‘Yes, we’re in the red zone.’

  Elle frowned, before noticing Chloe’s empty hands. ‘Wait, you’re getting that green dress, right? Where is it?’ She looked around them as though it might be on the floor.

  ‘I put it back.’

  ‘Why? It looked gorgeous on you.’

  ‘No it didn’t.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that and I’m telling you it did. Go get it.’

  ‘Elle, even if it did suit me, I can’t afford it. Plus I don’t need it. You are forgetting that I am now the unworthy owner of an incredibly expensive Elie Saab gown that I am going to have to spend the rest of my twenties paying for.’ She nodded her head towards the record stall. ‘Come on, let’s find Kate.’

  ‘You’re approaching that all wrong,’ Elle called after her. ‘Remember what I’m always telling you: cost per wear! The more you wear it, the less it cost you. I’m down to $150 on my Preen dress and I only got it in June. Gimme another few weeks and I’ll be back in credit.’ She gave a ‘beat that’ shrug.

  Chloe tutted as they reached Kate. ‘Well on that basis, I’d have to spend three years wearing it to the gym, to bed and to the office before I could break even. I will never need another dress for as long as I live.’

  ‘Now we all know that’s not true,’ Elle smiled, joshing her with her elbow. ‘Tom’s so going to propose to you – isn’t he, Kate?’

  Kate hitched her eyebrows up. ‘I bloody hope not,’ she muttered, pulling out a sleeve of The Thin White Duke and turning it over to read the song list.

  ‘Kate!’ Chloe protested.

  ‘What? You know my views,’ she mumbled, squinting.

  ‘Yes, you’ve made them perfectly plain! But how many times do I have to tell you? We’ve sorted everything out. We’ve, you know . . .’ She gave a big shrug. ‘. . . Forgiven all the other stuff.’ She mumbled the last bit; she and Tom seemed to have fallen into an unspoken agreement not to discuss either Serena or Joe. ‘Bygones.’

  ‘Oh. Bygones. That’s what you’re calling it, is it?’

  ‘Kate, please—’

  ‘Chlo, don’t ask me to be happy about this when you know and I know perfectly well that he is only going to hurt you all over again. Maybe not this month. Maybe not even this year, but once a cheater, always a cheater.’

  Chloe felt her bottom lip tremble. ‘People are allowed to change, you know. We all make mistakes, that’s how we grow. We can’t all get the fairytale romance like you and Marcus. If I can forgive him I don’t see why you can’t. This is everything I’ve ever wanted.’

  Kate tipped her head to the side, a pitying look in her eyes. ‘Is it though?’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kate sighed, dropping her shoulders two inches. ‘I guess I’m just not quite feeling it.’

  ‘Oh, you’re not? Because it’s about your feelings?’ Sarcasm dripped from the words.

  ‘I don’t mean it like that; I guess I just . . .’

  ‘You just what?’ Chloe demanded, feeling upset. ‘You know, Tom’s falling over himself to get to know you better but it’s not easy for him when you’re always making him feel like the bad guy.’

  Kate looked at her sympathetically. ‘And I get that, I can see he’s trying. I guess I’m just wondering if the fallout was worth it. I know it’s what you say you wanted, but now that you’ve got it . . . ?’ She shrugged.

  ‘What? You think we don’t love each other?’

  ‘No. But I just wonder whether you love the idea of each other more. Now that you’ve got him, does the reality match the hype? You just strike me as a little . . . flat. Strained. Like you’re playing the part.’

  ‘Like an actor? You think I’m acting out my life? I can’t believe this,’ Chloe said, shaking her head, looking between her sister and Elle. ‘I can’t believe you’re saying these things.’

  Kate took her by the arms, forcing her to make eye contact. ‘It’s only because I love you. You’re my baby sister. I just want you to be happy.’

  ‘And I am!’

  Kate blinked, looking at her in long silence before dropping her arms again. ‘. . . So, okay then,’ she sighed. ‘Fine, that’s great. Then I’m really happy for you.’

  ‘No you’re not. You’re just saying that.’ Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Chloe was aware that she sounded ten years old again, arguing with her big sister about who set the table last.

  ‘If you tell me that this is what you truly want and you are truly happy, then I am one hundred per cent behind you. All the way,’ Kate said firmly, her green eyes burning. ‘Just do me a favour, okay?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Don’t rush into anything. Not yet. No engagement. No ring. No dress.’ Kate shot a warning look at Elle. ‘And don’t you encourage her. My sister is quite impetuous enough.’

  ‘I’m not!’ Chloe protested again.

  Kate threw her hands out. ‘Uh, hello, are we or are we not standing in New York City, which you decided to move to within twenty minutes of finding out your boyfriend had got engaged to someone else?’

  Elle grinned. ‘She’s got a point. And you did do the exact same thing all over again when you skipped off to Greece with the hot client.’

  ‘Could we please not discuss that? It’s entirely different. That was work. This is my personal life,’ Chloe said in a low warning tone to her friend; she did not need Kate finding out about the Joe situation. ‘And besides, don’t call me impetuous when you’re the one talking
about wedding dresses!’

  ‘Yeah, and given that’s not happening any time soon, even more reason you should have bought the green one.’ Elle folded her arms across her chest again, her point made.

  Kate threw her arms around her sister and kissed her affectionately on the cheek. ‘Look, I promise, Sis – if Tom can prove through his actions, sustained over the course of many years, that he loves you and deserves you, then I will love him as a brother and welcome him to the fold.’

  ‘Heaven help him,’ Chloe sighed, rolling her eyes but sinking into the hug anyway.

  Kate kissed her on the cheek, before straightening up and checking her watch. ‘In the meantime, he is looking after my beloved only child and I’d quite like to check that’s all going to plan.’

  ‘They were only going to the playground,’ Chloe smiled. For all her briskness, Kate was like any other mother: anxious and worrying whenever her child was out of sight.

  ‘Yeah, but you haven’t seen Orlando in the sand pit. God help any child that tries to grab his bucket and spade.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll text him now and tell him we’re done. Where shall we meet him?’ she asked, looking across at Elle, the phone poised in her hand.

  ‘How about that food market?’ Elle suggested. ‘I’m up for some more of those taco-things. I’d thought we were going to be making a habit of going there at the weekends.’ She gave a pout that suggested this oversight was Chloe’s fault.

  And perhaps it was. Memories of Joe flickered in front of Chloe’s eyes again: her surprise as he’d turned around that day; his surprise as he’d seen her, the plates outstretched in his hands. It had felt too risky going back there, in case he was helping his friends again (unless that had been a lie too?). She wasn’t ready to chance seeing him, even though she knew he was more than likely spending these last few days of summer at the beautiful house she had found him in Greece. It was hard enough keeping him out of her mind as it was, without having him made flesh and blood again, and it took all her powers of persuasion to convince herself to see him as the police and Tom and Jack described.

  ‘Tacos?’ Kate echoed as they linked arms and wandered out of the market, past the yellow school gates. ‘At this time of the day? But it’s not even twelve.’

  ‘Or noodles? I could totally do noodles.’ Elle shrugged. ‘Or pizza.’

  ‘We have to feed her; Elle’s not good on low blood sugar,’ Chloe explained, banishing Joe from her thoughts with a determined toss of her head. ‘Something to do with all that height, I reckon.’

  ‘Hmm, well you look like you could do with an extra meal or two yourself,’ Kate said, giving her a quick up-down. ‘How much weight have you lost?’

  ‘I wasn’t aware I had.’ Chloe glanced down at herself uninterestedly.

  ‘Are you eating properly?’

  ‘Yes!’ Chloe groaned. ‘God, you sound just like Mum!’

  ‘Because she’d have a fit if she could see you. You’re getting thin.’

  ‘Chill! There’s just been a lot on, that’s all. I was running around too much. But things are quieter now.’

  ‘Now that you’ve got fewer clients, you mean?’

  ‘Exactly. I’m down from six to four now, which is far better,’ she said, thinking how much quieter things were now that Joe and Alexander were out of her life. ‘And I’ve stopped all that travelling.’

  ‘Don’t tell me – Tom’s hidden your passport?’ Kate cracked herself up laughing, Elle joining in too.

  ‘You’re funny,’ Chloe said in an ironic tone. ‘Really funny.’

  ‘Hey Kate, has there been coverage of the “clash of the titans” in England?’ Elle asked, looking across and down at Kate.

  ‘Clash of the what now?’

  ‘One of Chloe’s former clients is locked to the death in a boardroom battle that’s like . . . masters of the universe. Alexander Subocheva?’

  ‘Subocheva?’ Kate shot a concerned look at her sister. ‘But the guy’s a crook. You never told me he was one of yours.’

  ‘Because I’m big on client confidentiality, thank God,’ she muttered to herself, remembering again that terrifying hour on the yacht. It had become something of a regular occurrence since then, to wake in the night with a gasp, her heart pounding, Alexander’s pale eyes boring into hers as he decided whether she was loyal, trustworthy, believable . . .

  A jogger ran between them, splitting up their little group momentarily.

  Kate frowned as they swerved back together again. ‘His wife went missing, didn’t she? The model?’

  ‘Yes. Disappeared from their yacht,’ Chloe murmured. ‘It’s coming up to a month ago now.’

  ‘And they still haven’t found her body?’

  ‘No.’ Chloe felt sick about it. Alexander had been wrong after all – that or he had underestimated what his rival was prepared to do to win. In public, it was purely a boardroom battle: Alexander had won the first round, holding off the takeover bid with a last-minute alliance with the potential investor from the Taj Mahal; the terms for Subocheva weren’t as favourable as they might once have been, shrinking his personal holding in the group by 24 per cent, but he was still the largest shareholder and it had been enough to stabilize the ship in this storm – at least, temporarily. But last week Gelardi had upped his offer again and judging by the markets, it was winning growing support from the board.

  That was the public face of the battle, but in private . . . ? If distraction had been Gelardi’s intention whilst he made his move, that moment had well and truly passed; it had ended the moment Alexander’s jet had touched down in Manhattan and he had thrown the full might of his attention onto the offer. He had made his choice between ostensibly saving Elodie or Black Pearl and he had chosen the latter. So why should Gelardi have held on to his wife? The eyes of the world were on the two men. It was far too risky and keeping her, hiding her, now achieved nothing.

  If they’d ever had her.

  It had made no sense to Chloe then and it didn’t now. She had her own theory and it was bleaker than a woman being taken as collateral in a business feud; Elodie hadn’t been taken by Lorenzo’s men, and she hadn’t fallen either. As far as she was concerned, that poor woman had jumped; Chloe had seen for herself the whistling hollowness in Alexander’s eyes that night, the blackness of his soul. His entire life was about possession; Elodie would simply have been the most cherished object in his collection.

  ‘It’s so sad,’ Elle said. ‘I always thought she was so pretty. Did you see the Dior campaign she did a few years back?’

  Kate shrugged. ‘I had other things going on. Like pregnancy and labour. And how to mop up sick off your shoulder and make fruit purees with just one—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, we get it,’ Chloe groaned as they stopped at a street crossing, waiting for the lights. Crowds gathered on their side and opposite. The cars rolled past – commuters, cabs, trucks, buses . . . everyone moving on to somewhere else. Faces in profile, nodding dogs, stacked ladders, stickered logos . . . It all rumbled along as the crowd of waiting pedestrians grew, some stepping off the kerb and walking along the gutter in their hurry to keep moving.

  ‘Hey.’ She felt hands squeeze her waist, a kiss on her cheek as Tom beamed down at her, looking very pleased with himself and panting lightly. ‘I saw you from half a block away.’

  ‘Did you?’ she asked, feeling self-conscious that Kate was watching them. What did she see that was missing between them?

  ‘Well, you’re an easy trio to spot, to be fair,’ he grinned, nodding towards Elle – already a head and shoulders above everyone else even before the Afro. ‘Orlando and I sprinted to make it before you crossed. I’ve got to say, I’m pretty nifty with that thing,’ he said, looking down at the stroller, before meeting her eye again and giving her a confiding wink.

  She looked away, not quite sure what he was trying to tell her – beyond that he could navigate a pram.

  ‘So – did you have fun?’ he asked, taking her by the hand and kis
sing the knuckles.

  ‘Yeah. You?’

  ‘Sure did. He’s a great little chap, Kate,’ he said, addressing her directly on his right side. ‘We had such a ball.’ He looked back at Chloe again. ‘I think I’m a bit of a natural, actually. I can see me being a dad.’

  Chloe saw Kate’s look of horror on his far side; she gave a nervous smile but said nothing.

  The lights had changed, she realized. ‘Oh—’

  The crowd propelled them forwards into the road, bodies hustling for space between the stopped cars, meshing with the oncoming rush from the opposite side of the street. Tom was forced to let go of her hand as the two sides bled into each other. Kate, hampered by the stroller, fell back slightly. Chloe could hear her clipped accent in the crowd. ‘Excuse me.’

  But it suddenly sounded far away, Chloe becoming aware that something had changed, as though the city had paused. She felt the static charge of an electric stare. Her head lifted as though in slow motion, her gaze seemingly flick-kicked up by another, straight into the beam of a pair of chocolate-brown eyes, steady and unreadable, coming straight towards her.

  Joe.

  He looked radically different, he had shaved for one thing, but she could still see the faint tan lines of where his beard had been and she recognized his walk, the sheer physical animal presence of him. Her lips parted in silent surprise as he passed right by her, he was there almost before she could process it and she felt a shock as his fingers brushed against hers, his gaze as direct and steady as ever. But he passed by without a word, without turning back, leaving her standing there and watching after him. Time had become fractured, noise muted, colours leached as he disappeared into the mass of bodies and all that remained were the remembered sensations of those eyes, those lips, still warm memories from under a Grecian sun, an Aegean moon.

  She felt her entire body wake up. It didn’t matter what everyone told her about him – what he was and who he wasn’t – his was the face that walked through her dreams, waking her night after night, her head saying one thing, her body another . . .