The Little Blue Door

by Francesca Catlow

  I am so looking forward to seeing Melodie again. Her beautiful face reminds me of Mum. I wish I had been able to see her and Dad at least once more. I need to tell Melodie the real reason I couldn’t leave the island so easily. Honestly, I am dreading it. She has been so understanding so far about what I went through. What Adam put me through I should say. I hope she won’t think I’m mad when I tell her what I’ve found so far. Maybe I am.

  I’m finding the headaches unbearable at times, I can feel the pressure of it now. I’ve been lucky not to have anything too dreadful when Melodie’s been visiting. That is something I’m very grateful for. I’ll have to tell her about the tumour at some point though. I don’t want to spoil it all before I really must. I wish I could have protected her against it all. I wish I could have protected the

  That’s where the diary entry ended – in mid-sentence. I read it back four or five times. First quickly then slower as I took it in. A tumour? What sort? Where? Why hadn’t she told me at the start?

  There was a knock at the door before I was able to spiral again. Reflexively, I squirrelled the book into the one of the pockets on the front of my dress, and opened the door to two young policemen. More people arrived and shuffled around her, around me. In broken English I eventually found out from one of the medics that she had known about her brain tumour for six months. Before they took her away from me, they let me have her necklace. I placed one small kiss on the scar on her eyebrow.

  ‘No more pain, Mum. I love you.’

  When I eventually got into my car, I felt the little diary in the pocket of my dress. I’d forgotten all about it. I carefully placed it on the seat beside me and drove back slowly – to the discontent of many other road users. I didn’t care. My mind was full of questions with no one left to answer them. I had had her for a matter of days and I hadn’t used them wisely. I could’ve asked her about her childhood with Mama and Papa more. I could have focused on positivity. But I didn’t. The morbid part of me had to pick at wounds and know what my father had been like. What he had done. Why? It was another hopeless question. Nothing could be done and nothing could be changed.

  When I arrived back at the Airbnb, I didn’t go in. I walked to the sea. I walked in without removing my yellow cotton dress. Just as I had my first night. With a heart filled with more loss and sorrow, I took myself under the calm waves. This time I chose to come back – I wasn’t frightened by a fish. The past month had changed me. I had a new respect for the life my mum had given me and what she had protected me from. It had cost her her own life one way or another. I may have felt lost and confused again, but at least I didn’t want to disappear for good.

  It was evening by then and there were some people about. They must have thought I was crazy. I trudged back along the beach to the house, with mascara-covered cheeks and more aware than usual of how much sand had stuck to my feet. My phone was ringing, but I didn’t look at it. I knew it was Anton, but my heart had closed. My whole body needed to shut down.

  I sat at the breakfast bar shaking, teeth chattering like a rattlesnake’s tail. She was gone. I kept saying those words over and over again in my mind. She was gone. What was I meant to do next? A part of me had thought I could live happily ever after on Corfu – a neat little package that included gaining a husband, a daughter and a mother. She was gone. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t help her. She was gone.

  I opened the little diary, but I couldn’t keep my hand still enough to read. As I tried to look at it, my phone rang again: Anton. I considered answering this time. To have him hold me and warm me, and thaw through the cold and dread lingering over me. I felt as though I didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve him. Or perhaps I was just frightened, frightened he was calling to tell me the dream was completely over. I went upstairs and got in the bath. I sat in it crying for an eternity. A whole eternity.

  My phone buzzed again, this time a message from Maria:

  Hey! How’s your stay? Let’s meet up? X

  I replied:

  I can come to Vicky’s tomorrow morning. I’m leaving tomorrow night. x

  Maria:

  Okay, see you around 9? x

  I had made my decision. I would leave. The plane was scheduled to depart the next night. I couldn’t bring myself to see Anton and I knew if I stayed for even another week, I would have given into my desire to be held by him. If he even wanted to hold me. Leaving the next day would be better for everyone. I stepped out of my bath of tears and started to pack.

  Slowly I made it downstairs and sat on the sofa just staring at the wall. A knock on the door startled me out of my trance. I was sure it was Anton and I didn’t know whether to just shout ‘Go away’… Then Nico waltzed in.

  ‘Sorry, I could see you in the window.’ He stopped as he looked at me properly. His expression went from smiling Jack-the-lad to concerned little boy. He rushed to sit by my side.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I was bewildered.

  ‘I don’t have your number.’

  ‘Okay.’ I paused waiting for more information, but it didn’t arrive. ‘So, what are you doing here?’

  ‘I like you. So, here I am.’ I was astounded. He sounded genuine too. ‘You have been crying. What is wrong?’ I looked into his boyish face. He didn’t look all that much older than Gaia to me. No wonder she liked him. He definitely had a cool, teen band member vibe, which I could imagine worked on many girls of all ages.

  ‘I found my mother whom I hadn’t seen since I was a few days old, only for her to die of a brain tumour.’ I slowly turned my face away from him, giving him a chance to absorb my words.

  ‘Tumour?’ he asked.

  I guess it’s not a commonly used word when learning a language. ‘She’s dead,’ I snapped. ‘It killed her. It grew in her brain and it killed her.’

  ‘I do not know what to say. You need a drink.’ He jumped up and helped himself to whatever he liked in the kitchen. Finding the ouzo, ice and short tumblers, he came back to my side.

  ‘Why are you really here?’ I couldn’t believe it was a genuine house call.

  ‘I told you. I have no reason to lie. If I want something, I get it. I think I made it clear I like you.’ He smiled at me while thrusting his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a cigarette packet. ‘These were meant for after.’ He winked and poked his sharp little elbow at me.

  ‘You silly sod,’ I said with a frown, ‘you can’t smoke that in here!’

  He just shrugged and cupped his hand round to light the thing anyway. Then he was off looking for an ashtray. ‘So…what happened?’ His wide eyes waiting for answers.

  In some strange way it was nice to have him there. He might have had an agenda, but I didn’t. I could just talk; it didn’t matter much what I said. I told him what I’d arrived to and about the diary. I passed it to him for him to read. He waved it at me and asked me to read it out. Sharing the information with someone else was managing two things: the first was making it real all over again, but the second was to make me confront it. Which wasn’t a bad thing.

  ‘Fuck. I’m sorry, Melodie.’ It was weird of him to call me by my real name. Nico put his arm around me and squeezed. ‘Sounds like you made her happy.’

  We sat like this for a short time while he smoked and I drank. It wasn’t long before I was slurring and yawning.

  ‘You sleep. I do not think you should be alone. I stay. I stay in the guest bed, yes?’

  I was just pleased he hadn’t tried to suggest sleeping in my room, so I quickly agreed and was asleep before my head hit my pillow.

  Throughout the night I would hear the buzz of my phone, like a lonely bee hard at work. Sometimes I would look, sometimes I wouldn’t. They were all him. All Anton. I couldn’t deal with any of it. Most were messages demanding I let him know if I was all right. I couldn’t sleep, not properly. As I fell in and out of dreamy consciousness everything fused together.
One moment in the warmth of Anton’s arms then the icy fingers of my mother, calling me to help her. Eventually I got up. It was very early in the morning, maybe around three. I couldn’t look at my phone again. At some point during my dreams, I had thrown it on the floor. I decided to go out into the warm air of the night. I crept past Nico’s door and quietly down the stairs without putting on any lights. I opened the front door only to fall back on to my bottom. Anton was sat there. He fell backwards through the doorway knocking me flying. I didn’t manage to save myself at all well. Most of the force of the fall scraped my hands and wrists as well as my bottom. After my blood-curdling scream, I was shouting.

  ‘Why again? What are you doing here? Where is Gaia? And why do you always loiter in my doorway?’

  He rolled over and helped me to my feet.

  ‘Because I care about you! Clearly you don’t feel the same with me! You don’t care that I’m sat at home worrying about you. Not knowing if you’re all right, or what’s happening to you! I took Gaia to her grandparents earlier in the day to keep her from seeing that Finn until I know what to do with her.’ His size was intimidating when he was upset. I wasn’t afraid, but I did feel rather small and guilty. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I was putting myself in Gaia’s shoes with a new-found respect. He had started waving his hands all about and was talking to himself in Greek. Then he looked at me with eyes glowing under a fierce frown. He turned and walked outside leaving me stood alone.

  Nico came rushing down the stairs with hair spray in his hand by way of a weapon.

  ‘What the fuck?’ he yelled at me.

  ‘Nothing, nothing. Go back to bed.’ I waved dismissively, wishing he hadn’t been there at all. I walked across the room to the breakfast bar. Nico was still hovering on the stairs in his pants, bewildered, with hair like a caveman. I didn’t have a moment more to think before the door nearly flew off its hinges and Anton almost forgot to duck when walking in, making me wince at his almost pain. How he was creating so much commotion all by himself I had no idea. I just sat, stunned. Nico stood stunned. Both saying nothing, doing nothing. Anton was still fully animated and talking away at me in Greek. Too fast for me to take anything in at all. His arms were as mesmerising as wiper blades. He stopped, then stormed towards me and kissed me, almost knocking me off my chair.

  ‘What have you done to me?’ he said quietly, as he held my face. He kissed me on the forehead, hesitated and turned around suddenly catching sight of Nico. He did a double-take between us. I read his mind and started frantically shaking my head.

  ‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous,’ I said. ‘You know me and that’s not me!’

  ‘Do I?’ His tone cut through me like a blade of ice. He turned and walked away not giving Nico another glance. I couldn’t hold in my desire to be held by him any longer. I wanted to fix it. I sprinted out of the door but it was too late. He had already pulled away. Perhaps it would be down to fate. He was either a good driver, regularly checking his mirrors, or he wasn’t. I had to accept it either way. He didn’t look back and see me. Or, if he did, he chose to carry on. I couldn’t blame him either way. Hesitantly I walked back into the house. Nico was sat on the stairs, already with a lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

  ‘I think he likes you,’ he laughed.

  Pushing past him I went to my room and cried for an eternity once more.

  Chapter 17

  I sat at Vicky’s bar waiting for Maria. I was there early and I’d already had two shots of ouzo. I could now that I’d got rid of my hire car. Maria floated between the chairs and arrived at my table.

  ‘Drinking already?’ She clicked her tongue and shook her head. I just nodded. She ordered two orange juices and gave her father a peck on the cheek across the bar. She brought the juices back with her and handed one of them to me. ‘You look like shit. You shouldn’t be drinking so early. Drink this.’ She lifted the heavy square chair before placing it where she wanted it.

  ‘Yes, well. I found my mother lived here on the island. I met her. She then promptly died, and I found her then too. Oh, and I fell in love and pushed him away partly with the help of bloody Nico – no, I didn’t have sex with Nico… I’m unsurprised by my appearance. I spent most of yesterday crying then Nico got me drunk. I probably do need this.’ I picked up the juice in a cheers. ‘I’m likely dehydrated from my leaky eyeballs.’ I laughed at my own statement then drank the sharp, fresh juice. Maria was just sat looking at me.

  ‘Bullshit,’ she said, and pressed her fingers to her lips.

  ‘No, it’s not.’

  ‘That’s all insane! No wonder I hadn’t heard from you. I thought you were just annoyed at me.’ She blushed a little.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t best pleased with your poor matchmaking skills, I have to say. But no, I’ve been quite busy.’ I dismissed my upheaval with a shrug and underplayed everything that was in my head.

  ‘I want to know more, or to ask a question, but I don’t know where to begin…’ She trailed off and rubbed her pretty, round face.

  ‘It’s okay. I’m only really here to say goodbye.’ I took a sip of my juice.

  ‘Who is he? The man. And what did Nico do?’ she quizzed, blue eyes darting with anticipation.

  ‘His name is Anton Greenwood.’

  ‘I know Anton! He’s hard not to notice, let’s be honest. Especially when you’re as short as me. Blimey, he is gorgeous and seems like a genuinely nice bloke.’

  ‘He is,’ I had to agree. ‘In fact, he’s bloody perfect.’ I paused. ‘I have never had sex in Corfu.’ I then took a sip of my drink.

  She gasped and squealed making other customers turn and look. Rocking back into her chair, she clapped her hands. She never minded people looking. ‘I’m impressed! I’ve never known him to date anyone. He always gets attention, but I’ve never known him to act on it. He always puts his daughter above everything.’

  Her words cut through me. In my heart I knew I couldn’t fit in. The problem was that each interaction just seemed to be pointlessly reaffirming the bond that had been created.

  ‘Don’t tell me, he calls you Melo-Mou and whispers t’amo,’ She clasped her hands together by her face and fluttered her lashes.

  ‘That’s not even Greek,’ I sneered.

  ‘Ha! I know. It was a joke!’ She poked her tongue out at me.

  But he did call me “Mou”, all the time. I was flustered and spluttered my words.

  ‘Why, what does that mean? “Mou”?’

  ‘Mou? It means “mine”. It’s a term of endearment. I was just kidding, girl.’ She wasn’t kidding; she just didn’t know it. The words jumbled up in my head.

  ‘Yes, well, I guess he made an exception with me and then changed his mind. In part because when he turned up at my house last night, Nico was there. Nothing happened! Before you start! He came over because, well, he wanted something to happen, I guess, but he ended up being a shoulder to cry on. Nothing else.’

  ‘That’s some bad timing, girl.’

  ‘Yes.’ I couldn’t take more going over things. I needed to be alone. ‘Well, I’d best be off. Thanks for the drink.’ I started to stand, struggling against the weight of the chair.

  ‘Wait, you haven’t told me what happened with your mum. That sounds dreadful!’ she exclaimed, and stood with me.

  ‘It was. But I’d like to pop up to the church before I go, and with this big suitcase it’s going to take me ages.’ I indicated my huge suitcase, which I’d paid extra to bring on the flight. She offered to come with me, but I declined. I kissed her on the cheek and started my arduous march up the hill.

  The words “mine” and “mou” kept rolling around in my empty skull. He said I was his; I wanted to be his. My mind was rattling as much as my jiggling suitcase. I was sweating and puffing from pushing it along. At least it had four wheels, which I was very glad of. When I made it to the church, I was
mildly disappointed not to have come across Anton going in and out of places. Perhaps he was in Sidari. I set my suitcase just outside and made my way in. I sat quietly absorbing the smoky, waxy atmosphere and the vibrant images. Last time I had sat there I was alone, and it wasn’t my fault. Now I was alone and I felt wholly to blame. My mum had been taken from me for a second time and I felt too emotionally damaged to include Anton and Gaia now. I didn’t want to hurt them. I said a little prayer for them all. May they forgive me. He had asked me not to hurt him – I think perhaps he knew I would. It wasn’t all me though. He had pushed me away too, I told myself. I welled up again just at the idea of being encompassed in his arms one more time. We had had our one perfect day. It was more than I deserved. It had only been days since I was sat in this very spot. It felt like a year. I was a changed woman. It dawned on me that I’d reverted to some sort of unruly teenager. I hadn’t noticed it, but sitting in that church it hit me. The anger at losing my grandparents had kick-started a tantrum that coming back to Corfu had encouraged. I’d enjoyed being babied by Anton much too much. It had just been so nice to be cared for again. Then finding my mum had just made it all so much worse, how could I not feel like a child again? I’d been so bloody stupid. It was no wonder it hadn’t worked out. I had even been drinking like an irresponsible teen and had the headache to prove it.

  The whole time I sat there, the eye painted at the top point of the church watched me, looked down on me, judged me. I couldn’t blame its judgey look; I deserved it for being such a child. I got up and lit a candle in the memory of my mum. She hadn’t deserved the life she had been dealt. I walked out into the cleansing rays of sunshine and decided to go to Fantasea for lunch before getting my cab to the airport.

  More beautiful views. Looking across the bay gave me the escape that I required. Unfortunately, the calm was hollow and lonesome, but a calm mind was welcome over a busy one. I had a farewell Greek salad and wondered why food was so emotive. I was looking at my phone. I hadn’t taken many pictures on my trip. But the waiter at Taste Me had insisted on taking some of us together. We looked so happy. As I skimmed, I stopped on my mum’s face. She had once told me to “do what makes you happy while you can”; she was likely thinking about her tumour. I shouldn’t have let Anton leave. He made me happy. Fate let him drive away from me and I knew I didn’t deserve such a kind and passionate man. That’s when I saw him. He saw me in the same moment. My blood stopped in my veins and his emerald eyes cut through me. He turned to walk away.