Staying Out for the Summer

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘Hold the balance, Lucie,’ Michalis instructed. ‘You’re in control of the board. Hold it… hold it—’

  ‘Not happening!’ Lucie squealed and she tipped over into the water with a splash.

  Water filled her nose and ears and she resurfaced with a frustrated grunt. ‘I almost had it!’

  ‘Yes, you did,’ Michalis agreed, rescuing the paddle. ‘Shall we try again?’

  He was already moving the board back to shore a little to aid Lucie getting back onto her knees.

  ‘OK?’ he asked her.

  She nodded and remembered how she had got centred the last time. New experiences, here we go! Settled back on her knees, she gave a few strokes forward and then rolled herself up onto her feet, focussing on keeping her weight over the middle of the board.

  ‘That’s it! That is it!’ Michalis cheered as Lucie rose to her feet. ‘Now, take another few strokes, keep your chin up, looking forward.’

  She was doing it! She was actually doing it and it felt wonderful. There was nothing but her and the calling of the empty sea ahead. Lucie dipped the paddle into the water and gently propelled herself along. This was possibly the most relaxing thing she had ever done.

  ‘This is… fantastic,’ she breathed to herself. Then, realising she had barely whispered the sentiment, she said it louder into the quiet. ‘This is fantastic!’

  ‘Hey, not too fast! Wait for me!’ Michalis shouted from behind her.

  Sixty

  Michalis was on the paddleboard too now, taking control and sailing them around the bay. His wound was really starting to heal and Lucie’s great work with the closure was going to mean only the faintest of scars. He looked down at her then. Lucie was lying out, body absorbing the sunshine, eyes on the view as they drifted quietly, enjoying the serenity this mode of transport brought.

  ‘I can get why you would want to do this,’ Lucie said to him. ‘Straight away after a shift at the hospital.’

  ‘You can?’

  ‘Completely,’ she answered. ‘If Southampton was a little bit more like Greece I might invest in a board and do it too. It’s so gentle and relaxing. I think this might be the closest I’ll ever get to feeling like… a swan.’

  ‘A swan?’ Michalis queried.

  ‘Yes! Don’t you feel that way too? It feels majestic and regal and not at all like that hideous banana I sat on in Sidari.’

  He smiled, stroking the paddle once more through the water before he carefully put it down across the board and lowered himself to a sitting position to join her.

  ‘We should have brought a picnic,’ Lucie said, carefully turning herself around so she was facing him. ‘Because did you know there’s no privacy at the little bench you took me to?’

  ‘Lucie,’ Michalis breathed. ‘There is something I have to tell you.’

  ‘Oh,’ she answered, her expression changing from a bright summer’s day to an afternoon expecting a thunderstorm. ‘I was hoping you’d decided whatever it is wasn’t important or, if it was important, that you had changed your mind. Because… I don’t want something to ruin what we have together.’

  He took a breath and met her eyes. ‘I… do not know if things will change after I tell you. But… I just know… that I have to tell you. Because, if I do not, I can never be free of how keeping it inside makes me feel.’

  ‘Oh, Michalis,’ Lucie said, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers.

  He shook his head, not wanting to let himself give in to the enjoyment of the sensation of her touch. ‘I have held this back from you when I could have… when I should have told you much sooner ago. When you told me, about your mother and all your fears about living your life in the right way… that is when I should have been saying this.’

  ‘Then tell me now,’ Lucie said gently. ‘I’m ready to listen. No matter what it is.’

  He nodded soberly, knowing there was no turning around on this now. ‘Well… the truth is… I left Thessaloniki because I lost a patient.’

  Lucie gave a nod but said nothing further, squeezing his hand as if in encouragement.

  ‘He… Jonas… was only a few weeks old. He was born prematurely so his lungs, they were not fully developed. He was… so very small and so very weak that nobody thought that he had a chance.’

  ‘Oh, Michalis,’ Lucie breathed. ‘That must have been so devastating.’

  He shook his head. ‘I see death every day,’ he began again. ‘Just like you do. And, last year, you know there was more death than ever before… but this little boy… he fought.’

  Michalis could feel his throat tightening as his body reacted to the grief he still held tightly enveloped inside. He swallowed. ‘He improved. He bought himself some time. And next I managed to secure a new drug for him to try. Only a very few days later there was such hope that he was going to get well again, to be able to breathe on his own.’ He closed his eyes, seeing the tiny form of Jonas in the incubator attached to monitors and wires, his tiny chest being made to sucker in and out.

  ‘Then, one morning, that was it,’ Michalis stated. ‘The alarms sounded and… by the time I was called… when I got to the neonatal intensive care… the consultant paediatrician had already… well… Jonas… he was gone.’

  ‘Michalis,’ she began. ‘I don’t know much about premature babies, but I do know that sometimes they are so tiny they simply aren’t equipped to survive, no matter what care they get.’

  ‘I know that, Lucie,’ Michalis answered. ‘I am a doctor.’ He sighed. ‘And that was what it was. Exactly as you say. It was not Covid-19 or pneumonia. He was just too small, not ready enough to be born and to survive.’

  ‘Then you know that there was nothing else you could have done.’

  ‘I should have been there. I should not have left him.’

  ‘It’s not your job to spend twenty-four hours with individual patients. I have had to say that to myself and to Gavin so many times over this past year. We aren’t machines. We’re humans. And we need rest, otherwise giving our best isn’t going to be our best.’

  ‘I know that but… there was a little more to it.’

  ‘What was it? You can tell me.’

  Michalis dipped a hand into the sea, scooping up a little water and sprinkling it down onto the board. ‘I told you… about Thekli.’

  Lucie nodded and then she gasped and let go of his hand. ‘Oh, Michalis, was Thekli Jonas’s mother?’ A hand was at her throat now. ‘Was he your… son?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Michalis stated quickly. ‘No, Thekli… she was… she was Jonas’s aunt.’ He shook his head. ‘And when we broke up, she did not take it so well.’

  ‘Tell me,’ Lucie said.

  ‘We had separated and she did not want that. She would call me in the middle of the night and she would cry and scream and nothing I said would calm her down. And then her sister, Anastasia, had Jonas… and all I did was my job. I tried to do what I always try to do… help people… cure people… make the sick get better. But I could not help him.’

  Lucie reached for his hand again but this time he didn’t let her take it. He swallowed. ‘When Jonas died, Thekli broke even further and now she had something to really blame me for. She holds me entirely responsible for her nephew’s death and she has been harassing me every day since it happened. Text messages, calls, she paid people to attack me. I have had many different SIM cards because… somehow she finds a way to know my new number.’

  ‘Michalis,’ Lucie said. ‘You have to go to the police.’

  He shook his head. ‘Thekli needs help. And, today, I found the courage to speak to Anastasia. It was… one of the hardest things I have ever had to do… to call the mother of a child I let slip through my fingers like that.’ He took a breath. ‘And she found it in her heart to forgive me. She even said there was nothing to forgive and that she understood I had tried to do everything I could and that she would try to make sure Thekli did not contact me again.’

  This time, Lucie wasn’t going to let him shy
away from contact. She gingerly rolled up onto her knees and crawled the short distance to where he was sitting, putting her arms around him and drawing him in tight, the board bobbing a little with the motion. ‘That’s why you didn’t get my calls or messages about Maria having the twins.’ She traced her fingers over his bare back, outlining his muscles.

  ‘And Jonas is why I did not come straight away when I did find out what was happening,’ he admitted, his voice close to her ear. ‘It was… newborns… two babies and their lives relying on me. I did not know if I could do it.’

  Lucie sat back, keeping her eyes on him. ‘What made you realise that you could?’

  He looked at her so deeply then that it pinched at her heart.

  ‘I spoke to my father. And then I realised in that moment, that what would be worse than doing something wrong or making a mistake would be to run away. And I did not want to let Maria and Damocles down. And I did not want to let my mother down. But most of all, I did not want to let you down.’

  ‘Michalis,’ Lucie breathed, reaching out and running a hand through his hair.

  ‘That is why I am telling you all this, Lucie,’ he began again. ‘Because… I want you to know exactly what happened to make me feel as adrift as we are right now on this paddleboard and to say that… perhaps I am not the man you think I am.’

  ‘Michalis, do you think I like you because you’re a doctor?’

  ‘I do not know why you like me at all, if I am truly honest,’ he said, sighing. ‘You are so warm and caring and bright and funny and… so very beautiful. I cannot give to you anything you do not already possess.’

  Lucie shook her head. ‘And that’s where you’re completely wrong. In the short time we’ve known each other you have given me everything I was missing.’ She laced their fingers together. ‘You gave me the strength to really face what happened to my mum and to ask Meg the tough questions about it. You’ve pretty much cured my shoulder tension. And you’ve shown me exactly what sex is meant to be like.’ She smiled. ‘And usually I would get all red-faced and embarrassed about feeling so good about that… but I’m not embarrassed at all. I feel empowered and rich with endorphins over it.’ She palmed his face. ‘You did that,’ she whispered. ‘And, from what I remember, you weren’t wearing a stethoscope then.’

  ‘Lucie,’ he breathed, their faces close. ‘Sweet, sweet, Lucie.’

  ‘I don’t think who we are is written through us without the opportunity to make an edit,’ she told him. ‘We don’t have to be who we’ve always been. And I’m learning very quickly, right here in Greece, that the only person I have to prove anything to is myself. And I also don’t think I’ve discovered the true depths of Lucie Burrows just yet.’

  Michalis smiled at her. ‘I think Lucie Burrows is a very beautiful mystery.’

  ‘And I think,’ Lucie began. ‘That you might be the person I most want to start puzzling it out with.’

  She reached for him again then, connecting their lips without a care for their stability in the sea. And the way he kissed her back in response, told her that their staying afloat was also the last thing on his mind.

  Hitting the water, Lucie straightaway kicked for the surface then wasted no time reconnecting his lips with hers as they both trod water. The fizzing salt water on his lips speckled her own and the sensation only heightened her desire to give in completely to this closeness they were sharing.

  ‘Lucie,’ he breathed.

  ‘I could look at you forever,’ she breathed.

  As her words worked their way into her mind, planting romantic saplings, she began to think about exactly what ‘forever’ meant. One thing it definitely didn’t mean was saying goodbye at the end of this holiday…

  Michalis said no more, but used his free arm to loop around her waist and drag her into him as they both kept kicking to keep afloat.

  ‘Will you,’ Lucie began as the water lapped around her. ‘Come to the wine tasting with me?’

  More time. She just wanted more and more time with him while she could.

  ‘I would say there is nothing more I would rather do but…’

  She felt a thrill run through her as his already sexy eyes turned sexier still and his mouth dropped to her neck.

  ‘Ne,’ he breathed into her skin. ‘Yes.’

  Sixty-One

  Sortilas Square

  Two days later

  ‘You are terrifying!’

  Nyx screamed out a laugh, bending double as she looked at Michalis in front of her. They were standing in the square in front of the lemon-painted domed church, where all manner of preparations were taking place for the Day of the Not Dead Festival.

  ‘I am a warrior tortoise,’ Michalis replied with a straight face, pumping a fist in the air. Immediately one of his really heavy, hand-carved wooden arm cuts fell off and onto the concrete with a clatter.

  ‘You cannot move!’ Melina immediately shouted. ‘This is the very last dress rehearsal before the festival.’

  ‘The last dress rehearsal?’ Nyx queried. ‘When were the others?’

  ‘I am not complaining that there is only one,’ Michalis answered, trying to remain motionless.

  ‘Did you not notice that we were in lockdown? All my arrangements had to be changed!’ Melina said. ‘This is the first time everyone has been able to get into the village with the artwork and the pieces for the stage and everything we need to make this festival a success. And it will be a success.’

  The hope and desperation in the village president’s voice sounded on the very verge of menace and, with pins between her fingers, Michalis hoped they were not going to be jabbed anywhere near the very short leatherette skirt he had been tied into.

  ‘Melina!’ a shout came from across the space. ‘We need to know where the children should congregate for the Dance of Defiance. And, we are three rattle drums short!’

  Melina tutted and suddenly thrust a handful of pins at Nyx. ‘You can continue. The edging needs to be pinned into place on the waistcoat before it is sewn.’ She turned away and shouted, ‘I am coming!’

  ‘I am supposed to be folding pastry around beef chunks for the tortoise pies. They are going to look amazing. I am using black olives for their beady eyes.’ She plunged a pin into the material and caught Michalis’s side.

  ‘Ow! Nyx! Be careful!’

  ‘Such a baby!’ Nyx answered. ‘I cannot believe you survived being skewered by a tree branch if this is how you react to a little pin.’

  Michalis’s gaze went back to the other side of the area where Lucie was being as prodded and poked as he was. Layers upon layers of lace and material were being added to the dress she was wearing, Miltos there, directing his grandmother and great-aunt like he was an orchestra conductor and they were reaching the final overture.

  ‘I see you looking at Lucie,’ Nyx remarked, pinning a little more gently now.

  Michalis smiled.

  ‘When is she going back to the UK?’

  ‘Saturday,’ Michalis answered. ‘After the festival.’

  ‘Is she going to be one of those clinging people?’ Nyx asked with a shudder.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know, someone who wants your phone number and to “stay in touch”. I had one of those once. He was from somewhere called “Silly Isles”. Who calls a place “Silly Isles”. Ugh!’

  Michalis swallowed. ‘Lucie already has my phone number.’

  ‘The new one?’ Nyx wanted to know. ‘Because I had only just got used to the old one. I do not know why you have to change them so often.’

  Michalis was glad Nyx didn’t know. ‘You do not think we should stay in touch when she leaves?’

  ‘What is the point? She lives in UK. You do not.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I am glad you are here,’ Nyx blurted out.

  Something in the tone of his sister’s voice made him look away from Lucie and back to her. ‘I am glad I am here too,’ he answered.

  ‘Are you going to stay?’
Nyx asked bluntly, still hiding her eyes from him.

  He took a deep breath that made the waistband of the skirt tighter still. ‘Oh, Nyx, I don’t know.’

  ‘I know I can be annoying. Sometimes. And Papa can be annoying. Much more often than me. And I know you hate the shop and—’

  ‘I don’t hate the shop,’ Michalis insisted. ‘I’m just not a butcher like you.’

  ‘I have… liked having you back here,’ Nyx admitted. ‘There. I have said it. You can feel smug and superior and…’

  Despite how difficult it was to manoeuvre himself in this tortoise homage, Michalis put an arm around his sister and pulled her close. For a very brief second she gave in to the emotion until:

  ‘Oh, God, you are half naked and you smell of chickens! Ugh! I hate the smell of feathers. Plucking is my least favourite job!’

  ‘I am a tortoise warrior with wings,’ Michalis answered. ‘What can you say to that?’

  ‘Ugh,’ Nyx said again. ‘Ugh, so disgusting.’

  ‘You said that already.’

  ‘I am saying it again! Ugh!’

  ‘Nyx,’ he whispered.

  ‘What?’

  ‘If I do not stay in Corfu,’ he began. ‘I will visit far more often than I used to.’

  ‘Really?’ Nyx asked, eyes lighting up like inside she was still that little girl he had left behind to pursue his studies.

  ‘I promise,’ he told her.

  *

  Gavin fanned at his face. ‘Is it me or has the heat level risen a good few degrees today?’

  ‘Oh my God, Gavin!’ Lucie exclaimed, wafting out her arms. ‘You’re stood there in shorts and a vest. I’m blanketed up like a burrito!’

  ‘And look at your man across the way there,’ Gavin said, nodding towards the plinth Michalis was standing on.

  Lucie smiled. Michalis was being fitted into a rather odd-looking costume that somehow still managed to show off his best physical attributes. It seemed to be made of coconut shells, wood, feathers, leather and not a lot else…

  ‘I so wish he was bi,’ Gavin stated, sighing.