Out of the Blue

by Belinda Jones

  Greg opens his mouth but no words are forthcoming.

  ‘Where do you call home?’ Alekos rephrases his question, thinking that might help.

  ‘Well,’ Greg begins, ‘that’s hard to say. Because I have several properties. Seven, in fact,’ he blabs, completely overdoing it.

  ‘You own seven homes?’ Alekos repeats.

  ‘Yes,’ Greg confirms with a definitive nod. And then his face falls as he realises Alekos is waiting for the list. ‘Oh, let me see now . . . there’s one in Geneva,’ he offers tentatively.

  Alekos nods. ‘I’ve never been there.’

  ‘Really?’ Greg perks up. ‘It’s very swish. And Swiss, obviously,’ he laughs, all-too-earnestly.

  ‘Where else?’

  ‘Um, a villa near Madrid, a ranch in Montana, a penthouse in Moscow . . .’

  From the curious collection, I suspect he’s trying to think of the most land-locked locations, least accessible by cruiseships. Also, apparently, beginning with the letter M.

  ‘A macadamia plantation in Paraguay,’ he continues, ‘and, er, a castle in Scotland.’

  ‘A castle?’ Alekos’ eyes widen.

  ‘Very small, nothing fancy.’

  ‘And the seventh?’

  Poor Greg looks wrung out.

  ‘It’s like naming the Seven Dwarfs,’ he bleats. ‘There’s always one that eludes me . . .’

  ‘I think Cherry mentioned somewhere in Dubai.’ I try to help him out with the first place that comes to my mind.

  ‘Oh, I know it well, my uncle moved there.’ Alekos brightens. ‘Whereabouts?’

  Greg shoots me a thanks a lot look.

  ‘Sorry,’ I mouth back.

  ‘Um. Cherry, sweetie?’ Greg summons assistance. ‘Our place in Dubai, what’s the name of the area . . . ?’

  ‘Dubai?’ She frowns.

  Surely I can’t have picked the one place she’s never been?

  Greg heaves a sigh. ‘You know, Alekos, the truth is that home for me is wherever my princess is!’ He pulls her close.

  ‘Oh, you’re so sweet!’ Cherry tweaks his nose. ‘Now why don’t we go and offer these delicious morsels to the rest of the guests?’

  ‘Good idea!’ Greg cheers, keen to escape the interrogation scene.

  Alekos continues to study him as he scurries off, commenting, ‘He seems rather jumpy.’

  ‘Well, you know when you’re the host of a party . . .’

  ‘I thought Richard was the host?’ Alekos corrects me. ‘This is his villa, right?’

  Oh what a stupid idea to switch their identities! So much more trouble than it’s worth and it’s not even Alekos we’re out to deceive!

  ‘Yes, yes, you’re right, but Greg has been in charge of the cooking and that’s very stressful. Especially when there are such discerning palates at large . . .’

  He nods, taking my point. ‘Perhaps it’s best I cook the fish for him, then?’

  ‘Oh yes, that would be very considerate,’ I agree. ‘What can I do to help?’

  I want to stay close to Alekos. I need to get to the bottom of exactly what happened between him and Jules. Whatever it was, it’s over now. Which isn’t to say it’s forgivable, a man sleeping with your best friend is the most fundamental deal breaker, but there’s something fishy going on, and not just with the sargos.

  ‘You are familiar with this kitchen?’ he enquires.

  ‘Well . . . a little.’

  ‘Could you find me a baking tray and a sharp knife?’ he says, reaching for a lemon from the fruit bowl.

  Amazingly there is no ‘Oop, pardon me!’ clashing as he descales and I clean away the debris or ‘Sorry, I just needed to reach for the . . .’ as he unstoppers the olive oil and I hand him the appropriate brush. We seem to be oddly streamlined, even in this area where I have so little expertise.

  ‘That’s it,’ he says as he slots the tray in the oven. ‘They’ll be ready in under ten minutes.’

  ‘Gosh,’ I gasp. ‘I always thought cooking fish would be so complicated – I could do that!’

  ‘Yes, you could,’ he confirms and then gives me a sideways look. ‘What did you think of the courgette blossoms?’

  I may be mistaken but it feels as if he has deliberately singled them out to trigger a memory of our day at Zeus’ cave.

  I take another forkful and then whisper, ‘Not quite as good as the ones we had at that taverna in Lasithi – maybe they need your magic card?’

  He very nearly smiles but then, just as quickly, looks cross.

  ‘Aleko, what—’

  ‘Do I detect the aroma of fresh fish?’ Richard appears, master of interruption.

  I take a step back so he can get a full view of Alekos’ handiwork through the oven door. ‘He caught them himself!’ I boast on his behalf.

  ‘Oh, that’s fun, isn’t it?’ Richard yars. ‘I used to love doing that as a kid.’

  I see Alekos check his expression – did he just patronise me?

  ‘I hear you’re quite the little merman!’ Richard continues with his baiting.

  ‘I do love the ocean,’ Alekos replies in a measured tone.

  ‘I’m quite keen on watersports myself. Selena tells me your brother has a business here?’

  Alekos nods. ‘If you come down to the beach tomorrow, I would be happy to set you up with whatever you need.’

  ‘That’s very generous,’ Richard concedes. ‘But you know what would be more fun?’

  Alekos looks guarded. ‘What?’

  ‘If we went tonight.’

  ‘In the dark?’ I hoot derisively.

  ‘I take it you’ve never been monoskiing by moonlight?’ he quizzes me.

  ‘No, and I very much doubt you have.’ I give him a ‘remember your role’ glare. ‘Besides, I don’t have a death wish – you may as well do it blindfold!’

  ‘Oh, that’s fun too.’

  Is Richard for real? Or is this all part of the game? I can’t tell.

  ‘But you’re missing one key factor that only occurs once a month,’ he says, leading me to the window. ‘It’s a full moon!’ The blinding globe of white cannot be denied. ‘That’s really the only night to do it, wouldn’t you agree, Aleko?’

  ‘It is certainly the brightest night,’ he concedes.

  ‘But surely it’s still way too dangerous?’ I fret as I notice Alekos’ jaw take on a competitive jut. ‘I really don’t think it’s a good idea. Those inky waters . . .’

  ‘Well, it’s up to Alekos,’ Richard shrugs, ‘it’s his town. His equipment.’

  Richard looks at Alekos, Alekos looks at Richard.

  ‘Perhaps we’ll have a race, just to make it interesting . . .’

  I roll my eyes. Men! ‘How are you going to do that?’ I despair. ‘For a start, we’d need two speedboats!’

  ‘We’ll borrow one of my father’s.’

  ‘Well, then, we’d also need two drivers.’ I point out the next obstacle.

  ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Cherry!’ I exclaim. Has the full moon made everyone lose their minds?

  ‘Trust me, I’ve driven more speedboats than cars this past year.’

  ‘Well, then, that’s settled,’ Alekos confirms.

  ‘Only I think we should mix up the teams,’ Richard decides. ‘I’ll take Cherry. Alekos, you can have Selena.’

  I feel like a daughter being bequeathed to a man for an arranged marriage, only that wouldn’t be nearly such a daunting scenario.

  ‘You know I can’t do that, look what happened last time . . .’ I grimace.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ Alekos assures me, without actually meeting my concerned gaze. ‘You won’t make the same mistake again.’

  ‘Really?’ I can’t believe how much his vote of confidence means at this time, even though my stomach is already running through the full range of nautical knots.

  ‘If you’re absolutely sure.’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Let him show off for you!’ Cherry hisses a
s she guides me back into the lounge.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Alekos, of course! He’s obviously beaten down by this whole Jules saga; he needs to feel like top dog again.’

  ‘Speaking of which . . .’ I look around me. ‘Where did Jules and Greg go?’

  ‘Ahhh, she suggested they take a little tour of the villa.’ She gives me a knowing look. ‘They’ve been upstairs for some time.’

  ‘Gosh, I hope he’s alright,’ I wince, envisioning him pinned to the bed with re-appropriated coat hangers. ‘Do you think we should check on him?’

  ‘I’ll nip out and loiter under the balcony to see if I can hear what’s going on,’ Cherry decides, grabbing Richard as she does so, yelling, ‘We need to talk team tactics!’

  I hang back, watching Alekos prepping the now-cooked fish, quite happily until . . .

  ‘What is it?’

  His face has suddenly darkened at the sight of something outside the kitchen window.

  ‘Has one of the goats escaped?’ I go to peer myself but he stops me, quite roughly.

  ‘What?’

  He studies me anxiously, gripping my shoulders.

  ‘Speak to me!’ I search his eyes for a clue. I’ve never known him act like this before.

  ‘It’s probably all quite innocent . . .’ he begins.

  Fighting against him I wrench around and see Richard and Cherry flicking each other with water from the pool. In between kisses.

  ‘Oh!’ I bite my lip.

  ‘You don’t seem surprised?’ He frowns.

  ‘No,’ I reply.

  ‘Or upset?’

  ‘No.’

  Alekos thinks for a moment and then looks concerned. ‘Is this some kind of swingers party?’

  ‘No!’ I laugh. ‘Nothing like that. If anything it’s more of an entrapment party . . .’

  ‘Entrapment? What do you mean?’

  Suddenly the pinger goes off and Greg comes haring down the stairs looking a little flushed. ‘That’ll be the stifado!’

  ‘Is it done?’ I ask him as he clatters assorted pans and plates.

  ‘More than ready,’ he replies, giving me a highly significant look.

  I take a nervous breath. The time has come.

  ‘Can everyone gather in the lounge?’ I call. ‘Jules, you too!’

  While Greg arranges the stew bowls and spoons on the lounge table, Richard hands each of us a glass of freshly popped champagne.

  ‘A toast!’ We follow his lead of holding our glasses aloft. ‘In fact, perhaps Alekos would like to choose the sentiment, seeing as we are all visitors to his fine island.’

  A pair of assessing eyes flit around the group – to Richard and Cherry, then Greg, Jules and even me – before he decides which cause to champion. ‘To honesty!’ he announces, not without a hint of sarcasm.

  We’re all a bit uneasy chinking to that, duplicitous to a man.

  ‘And friendship,’ I add before our glasses meet.

  We all take an elongated slurp.

  ‘And what would you like to drink to, Jules?’ Cherry enquires, eager to set the ball rolling. ‘Your next boyfriend, perhaps?’

  Jules gives Alekos a dismissive look before smirking, ‘Why not?’

  ‘Have you decided who it’s going to be yet?’ I challenge her. My heart is thumping wildly as I say the words. Confronting someone is terrifying, especially with an audience. Even more so when up until a week ago you considered that someone your best friend.

  ‘How do you mean?’ She gives me a dubious look.

  ‘Well, is it going to be Greg or Richard?’ Cherry feigns bubbly intrigue. ‘We’re all dying to know.’

  Jules’ jaw tightens. ‘You’re still angry with me about Dom—’

  ‘No, no,’ Cherry corrects her. ‘I’m angry with you about your behaviour tonight.’

  ‘Tonight?’ she gasps. ‘What have I done now?’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Cherry muses. ‘Shall we begin with your attempts to sabotage Selena’s new relationship?’

  ‘Oh yes, let’s!’ Richard enthuses.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Jules flushes.

  ‘Well, let me see . . .’ He tilts his head jauntily. ‘I have been introduced to you as Selena’s beau and yet earlier, when we were outside by the pool, you told me that Selena has been on a complete man rampage since you arrived, after anything in trousers.’

  ‘Jules!’ I sputter, horrified.

  ‘What?’ She looks wide-eyed at me. ‘I just meant you were ready to meet someone, that’s all!’

  ‘Why would you lie like that?’

  ‘Who’s lying? Do you deny that when we arrived at the Elounda Beach you were ogling every man from the hedge trimmer to the hotel manager, gurgling “Ooh, he’s nice! He’s nice!”’

  ‘I meant for you!’ I despair. ‘You’re the one who turned up out of the blue demanding an instant fling!’

  ‘You know perfectly well I’d already made my choice, however ill-advised.’ She throws a grudging look at Alekos but he’s too withdrawn to be affected.

  ‘Yes but—’ I stop myself. Now is not the time to blurt out that I didn’t want her to be with Alekos because I wanted him for myself.

  She raises an eyebrow at me.

  I take a breath. ‘I didn’t think he was right for you.’

  Now that has him riled. But just as he’s about to speak, Richard steps in. ‘We’re getting sidetracked!’ he says, turning back to Jules. ‘You also asked if I was the same guy who gave Selena a business card on her birthday saying, “Thanks for an unforgettable experience!” And went to great pains to point out that it was inscribed with three hearts.’

  ‘Three octopus hearts!’ I blurt. ‘It was Graeme’s card!’ I look to Alekos for support. ‘Remember me texting you to say that he and Emily were in the Veghera bar that night? Besides, if I were out on the pull, why did I invite Alekos to dinner that same night?’

  Jules looks caught out. She didn’t know about that.

  ‘You got my texts, right?’ I prompt my alibi.

  ‘Not until the next day.’ Alekos looks rueful. ‘But yes, you did invite me over.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re all making such a fuss about!’ Jules huffs, deep in denial.

  ‘You told me that you’d always had a thing for men with chin dimples,’ Richard persists, determined to get her to crack.

  She rolls her eyes. ‘It’s not my problem you took that as a come-on – sounds like wishful thinking to me.’

  ‘You sat on my lap out on the balcony and put your hand down my shirt,’ Greg suddenly blurts.

  Now Jules is really thrown. She can’t believe the men are turning on her like this.

  ‘The seats were metal,’ she forages around for an excuse. ‘They were too cold for me to sit on in my thin dress . . .’

  Greg doesn’t even wait for the rationale about the hand. ‘You said that while the others were having their monoski race you’d like to show me the Jacuzzi in your hotel room.’

  All eyes are upon her now. Her face turns to puce.

  ‘I don’t have to stay here and listen to you twisting everything I say and do!’ she smarts, reaching for her handbag. ‘I’m leaving!’

  ‘That’s right, Jules – why don’t you go and have another spa treatment?’

  ‘I’m going to need one!’ She takes Cherry at her word. ‘It’ll take a deep tissue enzyme scrub to rid myself of all your negative auras!’

  I can’t help but snort at the woman who so wilfully sets about destroying other people’s relationships. ‘You know what, Jules? You can get wraps till you’re mummified and microdermabrasion till your face is raw, but I’ll tell you one thing – you’re never going to be beautiful on the inside.’

  Finally a human reaction – it may be barely discernible but her eyes get suddenly glossy and I see her swallowing hard as she exits.

  We all stand in silence, staring at the door.

  Finally Cherry attempts to make light of an agonising situation.
‘Well, I don’t know about her but that was the best detox I ever had!’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Richard cheers. ‘Here’s to detoxing your life of people who don’t have your best interests at heart and treasuring the ones who really care!’

  Alekos and I exchange a look, not really knowing which category we belong in as far as the other is concerned.

  ‘You did the right thing.’ Greg reaches to console me, suspecting quite rightly that I’m a little shaken up. ‘I know it feels mean but at least there’s a chance now this will get through to her enough so that she’ll think twice the next time.’

  I nod. I expected to feel triumphant – the villain has been unmasked! But actually I just feel sad. I can’t believe my judgement was so off. And not just about her.

  ‘Come on! Don’t let this be a downer!’ Richard tries to rouse our spirits once more. ‘Look at all this lovely food.’

  But suddenly no one has an appetite.

  ‘You know what we need?’ He refuses to let the slump get to him. ‘Moonlit monoskiing!’

  29

  ‘There are only two remedies for the suffering of the soul – hope and patience.’ – Pythagoras

  What I really want to be doing now is sitting under a Cretan arch with Alekos, getting to the real crux of what went wrong. Not dragging him around the bay at the end of a rope, much as I might think he still needs a good dunking for sleeping with Jules.

  I can’t believe he’s still so tight-lipped about the experience – when everyone else was calling Jules on her stuff I thought perhaps he’d pipe up and say, ‘You’re right, guys – she did a number on me too!’ And then all would be revealed and I’d graciously forgive him and we could be reconciled. But he said nothing. And though at certain points he looked like he was experiencing some recognition or enlightenment, ultimately his expression remained dark and brooding.

  I look at him now strapping on the black lifejacket and extra-grip gloves then loosening up his arms in preparation for the race. He’s probably wondering how the hell he got caught up in all this madness. Of course it doesn’t take much to trace everything back to me. No wonder he wants me gone.

  ‘Ready?’ he asks, eager to get the final chore over with.

  I can barely muster a nod. Trudging towards the speedboat we look like Team Despondent next to Cherry and Richard’s Team Euphoria.