by Mandy Baggot
‘Nothing,’ Michalis said, reaching across the table for her hand. ‘Everything is OK.’
Michalis’s hand in hers felt so right. She closed her fingers around his.
Then Lucie’s phone started wobbling again and she had to let him go to reach her bag. This time she pulled her bag up onto her lap and unzipped it.
‘Something is wrong?’ Michalis asked her.
‘Oh, no, not really. It’s just Gavin. He’s been calling for a while and it’s only to ease his conscience really but… he didn’t feel the earth tremor the other night even when the egg chair was basically spinning like a lottery ball, and I think it will freak him out so I’d better… oh!’
Lucie looked at her phone screen. There were apparently at least a zillion calls from Gavin but there were also a couple of missed calls from Meg.
‘Is everything OK?’ Michalis asked.
‘I hope so,’ she breathed. She unlocked her screen and squinted at a message, also from her aunt.
On my way!
Lucie screwed up her nose up in confusion. On my way. What did that mean? She shook her head. Perhaps Meg had sent the text to the wrong person. That had happened a few times. Once there had been an awkward chat about marrows Lucie hadn’t understood at all until it became apparent the message was destined for the head of the horticultural society… Still, she now knew Meg was alive and well and had obviously got all her panicked messages.
‘I’ll just give Gavin a quick call back,’ Lucie said, pressing the screen of her phone. ‘Don’t finish the ice cream.’ She smiled at Michalis and waited for the call to connect.
‘Lucie?!’
It was Gavin sounding all breathy and panicky. It wasn’t Gavin sounding all mew-y and sugar sweet wanting to get their friendship back on an even keel. This wasn’t good. Perhaps she should have picked up sooner. Maybe there was a real emergency.
‘Gavin, what’s wrong?’ Lucie asked, her eyes flashing over to Michalis. He wasn’t eating their ice cream. He was looking at her. And if she wasn’t having a best friend crisis right now, she would be allowing herself to wallow a little deeper in that sexy, dark gaze…
‘You weren’t lying about the earthquake. It came back!’ Gavin wailed.
‘I know,’ Lucie said. ‘But it’s stopped now and it’s fine.’
‘And there are three tortoises in the house now! I don’t know which one the pet is!’
‘Oh, OK, that sounds like a bit of an issue.’ How did you identify a tortoise? Didn’t they all look basically the same? She risked a glance at Michalis now. He knew Corfu. Maybe tortoises appeared like that all the time here.
‘The egg chair’s in the swimming pool too! I put it on the edge to see if I could dip my feet into the water while I was swinging and then the ground started shaking!’
‘OK, well, have you not got it out?’ Lucie asked. Honestly, now it sounded like Gavin was five years old and incapable of wiping a bogey off his finger. ‘The cushions will get soaked through otherwise and you don’t want the metal to rust either.’ And how much were egg chairs to replace? She didn’t really want to have a debt to clear after the holiday expense…
‘I was going to,’ Gavin said. ‘But…’
‘But what?’
‘Well…’
‘Gavin! What’s going on?!’
There was a shuffling sound and a breaking up of their conversation and Lucie wondered if the phone lines had been affected by the earth’s shifting. Until…
‘Oh, Lucie-Lou, this house is absolutely fabulous! It’s so beautiful and rustic and very Greek! And I experienced my second ever earthquake!’
‘Meg! What… how… you’re… here?!’
‘Surprise!’ Meg answered. ‘Although I did send a sneaky text telling you I was on my way.’
Thirty-Five
Villa Psomi, Sortilas
‘Oh, Lucie-Lou, your face when you arrived back here was an absolute picture!’
Meg had a bottle of ouzo in her hand, half the contents gone. And, despite the alcohol ingestion, her usual slight limp when she walked was virtually non-existent. Her aunt was practically gliding across the striped marble floor looking twenty years younger. Her hair was loose too, gently tumbling over bare shoulders that were peeking out from a short-sleeved sundress Lucie didn’t remember seeing before. It obviously was her aunt in the kitchen of Villa Psomi but this model was a definite upgrade in the mobility and relaxation realms.
‘And I’ll tell you who else is a picture,’ Meg continued, grinning as she took glasses out of cabinets and filled them. ‘Michalis.’
Lucie didn’t even know there were glasses in that cupboard and it was her holiday house. She shook herself. Only earlier today she had been imagining her aunt clinging to life having fallen over the edge of the hideous patchwork rug that had been in the hallway Lucie’s whole life, and which should be consigned to the dump. Now, Meg was vibrant and zinging with energy like it was the year 2000 all over again.
‘He is delicious, Lucie!’ Meg continued, slugging at an ouzo like it was water. ‘Mouth-watering. Like those strawberries I bought from the man who collected me from the airport. He had a whole van full of them.’
Lucie shook her head. Miltos had picked Meg up from the airport and Lucie hadn’t even known she was coming. She needed to start saying something now and hope Gavin could keep Michalis entertained in the garden while she found out how this impromptu trip had come about.
‘Meg, it’s lovely to see you but… what are you doing here?’
‘Well, I… it was… your descriptions of this house and the sunshine and the… nature and…’
Lucie watched on as Meg stopped floating effortlessly and began to stiffen up, until finally she stood completely still and there were tears seeping out of her aunt’s eyes.
‘Oh, Meg! What’s wrong? What’s happened?’ Lucie was over to her in one stride, arms encircling Meg’s body.
‘Nothing,’ Meg breathed, holding herself a little out of Lucie’s embrace she noticed.
‘Meg, you’re crying,’ Lucie said with a swallow. She could count on one hand the number of times Meg had cried this way in front of her. Before her stroke, Meg had been someone who shrugged her shoulders in the face of adversity, pulled on big girl pants and got on with things. She always told the story of having come out of her divorce with everything she had put in, plus two sets of golf clubs she could have sold but decided to burn – along with all John’s AC/DC CD collection.
‘Let’s blame the ouzo, Lucie-Lou,’ Meg said, giving a sniff that sounded like the beginnings of recovery. ‘And the travel. When you get to my age it really can take it out of you.’
‘Meg,’ Lucie said, relinquishing her grip just a little. ‘You don’t like going to Lidl without someone going with you because the checkout operators are fierce. And now you’ve travelled to the airport and got on a plane and… somehow summoned the same fruit taxi that brought Gavin and me here and…’
‘I haven’t come to ruin your adventure,’ Meg breathed, eyes still watery. ‘That’s the very last thing I want to do.’
Lucie tensed a little, worried what was coming next. But surely her aunt wouldn’t have travelled all these miles to check up on her. Would she?
‘And I have my own accommodation,’ Meg informed. ‘I’ve booked that very same apartment in Perithia I stayed in before. But I was so excited when I got here, I just wanted to see you… so I asked to come here first and… the house, it’s so beautiful and… well it brought back all the memories of that perfect summer I spent here all those moons ago.’
Lucie felt relief as Meg smiled and gave a giggle that was definitely down to the ouzo consumption. Then, quickly, there was seriousness again.
‘Oh, Lucie, I don’t want to wake up one day and find I can’t get out of my chair at all,’ Meg admitted. ‘Even if the travelling was exhausting and, yes, perhaps I should have booked special assistance, but I want to live again. And I’ve been putting it off. Everything has been shrinking, my worl
d getting smaller and smaller every day. And I don’t mean just because of that seemingly never-ending period of restrictions with all the tiers I could never understand, but because I’ve allowed myself to be defined by what life has thrown at me and how the stroke has left me. How have I done that? And why?’ Meg took a breath. ‘Your grandparents, their whole lives they did the right thing and that’s how they brought me up but then it got worse because—’
Meg stopped abruptly and Lucie saw the expression that only clouded her aunt’s face for one unique reason.
‘Because of what happened to my mum,’ Lucie finished softly. ‘And then, because you got stuck with me.’
‘No!’ Meg responded immediately. ‘No… I didn’t mean that, my darling. I didn’t mean that at all. Oh, I’m such an idiot.’
Lucie swallowed. ‘It’s OK. Honestly. I can’t imagine what I would do if I ended up in charge of someone else’s child right now.’
‘Lucie-Lou, that really wasn’t what I meant.’ She sighed and shook her head, closing her eyes. ‘I just meant, when I was little, my mum treated me like one of her scary-faced dolls who were never allowed out of their boxes to be played with in case their dresses got dirty or one of their porcelain arms snapped off,’ Meg said in a rush. She heaved a long breath that made her boobs shake a little. ‘And, when your mum came along, instead of doing as she was told like I did because I had been scared by the Bible stories, the “doing the right thing” was simply too stifling for Rita’s vigorous spirit.’
Spirit. Wasn’t that exactly what Lucie had been talking about with Michalis over dinner? She wet her lips and hung onto every snippet of this opening up that was so incredibly rare.
‘I want to get my dress a little dirty,’ Meg admitted sadly. ‘And step outside of my box before it’s too late. And… I worry that perhaps while I’ve been keeping my own not-porcelain arms by my side, I’ve been responsible for stifling your spirit, Lucie-Lou.’
A powerful rush shot through Lucie’s core then and she immediately thought about Michalis. From her position in the kitchen she could just see the terrace outside through the window. Gavin was stood up, silver hot pants over the barest minimum of flesh without flouting a nudity clause, performing a dance routine he’d perfected from watching Little Mix: The Search. And there was Michalis, looking at her mad best friend but not really watching. Instead, his eyes were on the house and then, as if he knew, suddenly that gaze was on Lucie. As Meg continued to talk about her arrival and her dress getting caught on the luggage carousel at the airport, Lucie could feel herself zoning out, her attention focussing on the gorgeous man outside on her patio. He was the one she wanted to play with…
*
Michalis was standing even before Lucie came rushing out of the door. He watched her feet moving quickly over the courtyard until she was down on the terrace.
‘Lucie,’ he said, not really knowing why he had felt the need to say her name.
‘Luce! Come on! Show Michalis that thing we do when we—’
Lucie was taking hold of his hand now and grasping tight. ‘Come with me.’
As his heart picked up pace, Michalis sensed it wasn’t the time to ask where they were going or, in fact, to say anything at all. She was guiding him now, urging him to move off the terrace and away from the gyrating Gavin. And he was more than happy to leave the dance show behind.
She led them up the incline, past his parked car and the go-kart hybrid, onto the track that eventually wound its way down into the main square of Sortilas. And then she stopped. Surrounded by the mountainous terrain, overlooking the expanse of dark sea, Lucie turned away from the view and instead locked her eyes with his, still clutching his hand.
‘I don’t want to be a porcelain doll,’ she whispered, as if it made all the sense in the world.
‘OK,’ he answered, wetting his lips.
‘Because Meg said it a minute ago and when she said it I realised she was completely right. It’s not just her who’s ageing behind a flimsy see-through window in a box that smells of 1980. That’s exactly where I’ve been for… probably forever. And yes, Meg is overprotective and sometimes that’s really irritating but I’ve been giving in to it. I’ve let my spirit be stifled. Until now.’
She was smiling at him and he thought she had never looked more beautiful. Her eyes were alive and there was a glow to her skin. He took a breath, rubbing his thumb over the skin on the back of her hand.
‘I really like you,’ Lucie admitted. ‘Really like you. More than I’ve liked anyone in a very, very long time.’
They were so close now he could smell the light scent of her perfume and it was doing all kinds of crazy to his libido. ‘Lucie…’ He should be cautious. He knew how any kind of romantic attachment could end. But…
‘Sshh,’ she ordered, putting a finger to his lips.
He longed to taste her skin and her finger was right there, resting on his top lip. He kept holding onto his breath.
‘So… I feel… that this is the right thing to do,’ Lucie continued. ‘The right thing to do right now.’
Before Michalis even had time to think any further, Lucie had dropped her finger from his lips and replaced it with her mouth. It took him less than a second to catch up.
All thoughts that this might one day hurt were whisked away and he matched her passion completely, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her in close. He leaned into the way she controlled the kiss, next playfully surrendering, before then ensuring she was in charge again. It was the sweetest, most honest kiss, but also the sexiest, and when they finally parted Michalis couldn’t help but long for it to begin all over again.
‘Wow,’ Lucie said, smiling and putting her own fingers to her lips. ‘I’m… so glad I did that.’
Michalis sent a smile straight back. ‘Me too.’
‘So, Dr Andino,’ Lucie began. ‘Do you think we might, you know, go on another date while I’m in Corfu?’
‘Is tomorrow too soon?’
He took Lucie in his arms again, kissing the top of her head and relishing how good it felt to hold her under the moonlight and a star-scattered sky.
Thirty-Six
Sortilas Square
‘It’s very early, isn’t it?’
Lucie looked at her watch in response to Meg’s remark. It was half past seven in the morning and at just after seven they had all been rudely awoken by a gong being hit outside the front door of Villa Psomi. Next there had been the shouting of Greek words that Meg had looked up in the dictionary she had brought with her and translated to mean ‘village meeting’ and the word ‘epikindynos’, which meant ‘dangerous’. Now they were here in the square, in front of the church, joined by what looked like the whole population of Sortilas. Greeks and holidaymakers alike all had confused expressions on their faces.
‘It’s half past five in the morning in the UK,’ Gavin commented. He was still wearing the silver hot pants and Lucie just knew he had slept in them. Despite not having a chance to really discuss or make up, things were pretty level between them. This meant that although she hadn’t yet told Gavin about her hot kiss with Michalis, she would as soon as there was an opportunity… and she would maybe say she was sorry for not telling him about Simon’s sexual preferences sooner.
‘That’s a pointless remark,’ Meg said, putting thumb and forefinger to her straw-hat-covered head. ‘You’re on Greek time now.’
‘And I need to be back in my Greek oven bedroom,’ Gavin said with a sigh.
‘The bed in the little yellow room was a bit soft,’ Meg said. ‘Not that I’m complaining. Thank you for putting me up last night.’ She drew in a breath. ‘But I am looking forward to seeing my apartment in Perithia and finding out what hasn’t changed.’
‘I’m sure this will just be about this Day of the Not Dead festival they have going on soon,’ Lucie said, shielding her eyes against the first rays of sun. ‘The village president seems to think that event is more important than a general election.’
<
br /> ‘I hope it’s going to be a lot more fun than that,’ Gavin moaned.
Lucie noticed the door of the butcher’s shop opening and she began fiddling with her short crop of hair. She wished it would grow a tiny bit quicker so she could do more things with it. If she’d had her semi-afro Sandra Oh-esque do she would be pulling all the weaving, plaiting, straightening, curling and crimping tricks to look her most desirable. The best she had managed this morning was pinching a little product into it before they were basically evacuated from the house. And there Michalis was…
He looked tousled in all the good ways. Hair slightly wavy and falling a little over his face, wearing a plain white T-shirt and black jeans, trainers on his feet. She closed her mouth up as she realised she was in danger of looking a bit too fan-girl… Nyx was next to come out, hair in space buns, a long tapered blade in her hand, apron on over jeans and feet in high wedged sandals. And there was an older man too, presumably Michalis and Nyx’s father.
Then everyone was reaching for their ears as an air raid siren sound filled the square and even the cats lounging outside the church pricked up their ears and put disdainful looks on their furry faces.
Melina Hatzi swept into the square, carrying a wooden pallet in one hand and a megaphone in the other, and everyone seemed to move to give her space. Apparently her authority continued unabated even when she was wearing a dressing gown and slippers… Lucie watched her put down the pallet and stand on it like it was a stage at a music festival.
She began to talk in Greek and suddenly a hush descended and people began to look at each other with concern.
‘What’s she saying?’ Gavin asked Lucie as if she were suddenly fluent in the native tongue.
‘I don’t know,’ Lucie said, continuing to watch people’s body language and hoping she could garner information that way.
‘I got the words “this morning”,’ Meg offered. ‘And then, I think, the word for “road” but nothing after that.’
This was mad. People were making noises of alarm now, then followed a low hubbub that suggested the main headline news had already been imparted. She was going to find them a translator.