“Of course,” Liz said, feeling even more melancholy.
“Elizabeth,” he put his hand over hers on the wheel. “I think I am falling in love with you.” Liz’s heart missed a beat. She had felt things were spoilt but they weren’t. She turned and looked at him and gave him such a wondrous smile that his heart melted completely. For a moment it was as if they were alone in the world. The tension and longing between them something almost tangible.
“The wheel!” Philip yelled, as the yacht was about to do an “about”. The moment had passed but it had moved their relationship up a notch.
chapter 20
That evening, as they tied up at the quayside in Fiskardo, Jack’s spirits seemed to lift as he leapt ashore to greet a school friend on a nearby yacht. It was not a pre-planned meeting, but Jack had known his school friend and family were sailing in these waters and it was such luck to finish up in the same port.
The Smythes came over to see if Jack could have dinner with them that evening. As they had a daughter the same age as Jamie they suggested he join them as well. “It seems a terrible imposition,” Philip expressed concern. The Smythes – a plump and jolly couple – answered in unison that it was really their pleasure. Philip suggested they all had breakfast together and agreed breakfast at The Captain’s Cabin, at eight a.m. the following morning.
“Breakfast ashore?” Liz queried.
“Family tradition, we always have breakfast at The Captain’s Cabin – a full English-style breakfast too.”
It was their first evening alone. In fact it was the first time they had been alone since the memorable lunch they had shared at the embassy in Delhi. They were both a little constrained at first but a gin and tonic on a “boyless” yacht seemed to break the ice.
“Do you mind, Elizabeth,” Philip asked, “if I tell you about Helen?” If Liz was taken aback she wasn’t going to let him see it. She nodded and smiled. “Jamie is the spitting image of his mother, his colouring and his amiable nature. I’m afraid Jack takes after me,” he grinned.
“You must have been quite a handful then.” Liz smiled as she spoke.
“In hindsight I probably was, but I had both parents to put me straight. Jack misses his mother more than he can admit. He never mentions her and when she died he wouldn’t talk about it – never has in fact.” Liz made sympathetic noises, wondering whether Philip had talked properly to the boys himself whilst he was in the early stages of grieving.
“It would be better if he could talk.” Philip nodded in agreement, continuing by saying that Jamie talked about Helen at intervals, missing the mothering she gave him. “Helen was excellent with the boys, but she babied them. I am not sure she would have coped so well with Jack now. Probably would’ve made as much of a mess of it as me!”
Liz was silent. There was much she wanted to ask. She also would have liked to tell him about her pact with Jamie, but it was a secret she shared with Jamie and she was not at all sure how Philip would react.
“You and Jamie seem to have a good rapport,” Philip said.
“I think we do,” she replied.
“Elizabeth, let’s go and have dinner. There is a small taverna just out of town, about a ten-minute walk. Are you game?” Liz nodded delightedly.
“I’ll just get different footwear,” she said, looking ruefully at her dainty strappy sandals. “Sneakers might be better,” she said almost to herself as she went below to freshen up and find more suitable footwear for a ten-minute walk.
A few moments later she rejoined Philip who was waiting for her on the shore. He leaned forward and took her hand to steady her on the plank. She didn’t need a helping hand, they both knew it, and they continued holding hands as they walked in companionable silence, passing the boys and their friends enjoying a good feast on board the catamaran. Jamie waved, Jack scowled and, wordlessly, Philip and Liz loosened hands. Wrapped in their individual thoughts, they barely spoke. The road was steep and stony which took Liz’s concentration. Once, she paused to look back at the view. The twinkling lights of the village below, the yachts too with their lights on the masts – it looked almost unreal as if a sudden blast of wind might blow it all away.
The sound of laughter drifted on the light breeze and, turning back to the road, Liz saw lights a few hundred yards ahead. “The taverna,” Philip said, as if reading her thoughts. The tension caused by Jack’s scowling face, which had temporarily spoilt their pleasure, was melting away. Liz was determined to enjoy the evening, it might be a first and last such occasion.
Philip was thinking such different thoughts. He was determined that Elizabeth was going to stay as part of his life. He felt sure Helen would approve. Jack was a problem to be sure, but he would grow up, and, like it or not, would have to accept Elizabeth as part of their lives. Of course, there was always the matter of Elizabeth accepting him…
There was no menu, but after ecstatic greetings from the owners and introductions all round they were taken to the kitchen to see the food cooking and being prepared.
Liz was enthralled. It was such a perfect setting – high on the hill looking down on Fiskardo. The atmosphere was lively and the friendliness of the owners and their teenage children was exceptional.
They sat drinking ouzo for what seemed like hours but also, in some contrary way, seemed like minutes. The ouzo loosened their tongues and Liz told Philip of her warm relationship with Jamie. Philip reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Poor chap, he so misses Helen, Liz thought, though I fear his memories of her are rose-tinted.
“That doesn’t matter does it,” Liz murmured. They didn’t talk anymore about the boys. They talked of India, of her writing, which seemed to fascinate him. He wanted to know how she got started on a novel and she explained her research and card index system for each book with easy cross references.
“It sounds complicated.”
“It isn’t,” Liz laughed. “It has to be simple enough for me to understand it.”
The food, when it came, was piping hot and delicious. Stuffed peppers and aubergines with a feta salad. Followed by lamb stifado with such huge plates of crispy chips that Liz felt defeated before she had even started. She hadn’t eaten chips for years, but once started they were so delicious that she was amazed at her capacity.
Finally, strong black coffee, with small sips of chilled water between sips of the delicious coffee. They both sat back feeling more relaxed than they had ever been. Philip produced a pipe. “Do you mind?”
“I didn’t know you smoked,” Liz remarked.
“Only a pipe.”
“I always think a man with a pipe looks relaxed.” For a moment he looked startled, then lowered his eyes to concentrate on the igniting. After several puffs, he looked her straight in the eyes.
“You women,” he said between puffs, “are very intuitive.” Liz was puzzled. “Helen used to say a pipe relaxed me.”
“Ah,” said Liz, wondering what else she was supposed to say. She didn’t really want to be reminded of Helen just now, at the end of what had been a romantic evening.
Philip sensed the shadow. “I’m stupid and tactless aren’t I? Talking of Helen to you.”
“You are neither. Helen was your wife, the mother of your sons.” He nodded, but they both knew that the atmosphere had changed. They walked slowly back down the hill, both wrapped in thought. When they reached the yacht he kissed her lightly on both cheeks before going to check on the boys who had put themselves to bed and were both sound asleep.
“A night-cap Elizabeth?” he called softly so as not to wake the boys. She hesitated, then shook her head. “It’s been a lovely evening, I’m ready for bed though I think.” She wasn’t, she was wide awake, but she had a great need to be alone. Four more days and the week would be over. She would fly back to London, and Philip and his sons to Athens for “some culture”, as Philip put it.
He looked
a little crestfallen – but said a quiet goodnight. He kissed her again lightly and she turned away and walked to her cabin. She felt hot and sticky, so showered – keeping her hair dry as she hated going to bed with wet hair.
Putting on a light cotton nightdress she suddenly felt the need for air. Even with the portholes open there seemed to be very little breeze. She realised now why Philip liked “mooring out” – the air was so much cooler at sea, rather than cheek by jowl, yacht by the side of yacht, in the harbour.
On a sudden impulse, and noiselessly with her bare feet, she made her way through the cabin and up the stairs leading to the cockpit. For a moment as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she thought she was alone, until a sudden light sound made her realise she was not. Philip sat in the prow, his pipe in his mouth, still dressed as he had been. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “Am I disturbing you?”
“To the contrary, did you want to be alone?” Philip responded. She shook her head, then realised he couldn’t see.
“I just wanted some cooler air.”
“Come here and sit by me.” She sat down by his side and, putting down his pipe, he put an arm around her shoulders.
She felt herself shiver – it wasn’t with cold but with a nervous sort of excitement. She felt eighteen again, nervous, tremulous even and as unsure as any teenager. “Elizabeth, I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I first saw you.” His head moved closer and the aroma of the pipe smoke on his clothes filled her nostrils.
His lips were on hers, gently at first, then, feeling her response, they became more demanding. She turned a little, settling in his arms, they paused, then their lips touched in a succession of gentle kisses.
There were no need for words, it seemed so natural when he stood up and, holding her by the hand, led her below to her cabin. They made love and, for Liz, it was as it had never been before. His body was urgent, yet at the same time, giving and caring. He touched her in apparent wonderment, whispering tender words that made her long to feel him inside her again and again.
Finally, and inevitably, he left her as the dawn was breaking, and she lay in a drowsy state between sleep and wakefulness, feeling her body was on fire with a longing for him to return and quench reawakened desires.
She showered and dressed for breakfast. She could hear noise from the quay and the boys running back and forth along the gangplank, sounding somewhat like a herd of elephants. It was, she smiled to herself, impossible for them to do anything quietly, unlike their father!
Dressing with care, after all they were having breakfast at The Captain’s Cabin with Jack’s friends and family, she put on pale pink Bermuda shorts with a sleeveless cotton top. She tied her hair back with a toning pink tie and put on her smart navy deck shoes. They were due to meet at eight and it was seven-fifty. She had a ravenous thirst and Philip’s first glimpse of her that morning was looking, he told her, about sixteen and drinking from a bottle of water as if she hadn’t had a drink for days!
She took another great swig and polished it off. “There,” she said satisfactorily, almost smacking her lips. He grinned and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “You look pretty boyish yourself Philip.” He looked pleased and blew her a kiss as he called Jack to come back on deck as they were off to breakfast.
It was good to see Jack laughing and fooling with his friends. Jamie looked at her across the table and she gave him a conspiratorial wink. He smiled back happily.
Breakfast was a full English, which seemed totally mad, but perfectly proper! They all ate to their maximum capacity, washing it down with copious cups of coffee for the adults, and milk or orange juice for the children. It was a good start to a happy day. Jack seemed to have got over his grumps and Philip and Liz made a point of not sitting together and avoiding a lot of eye contact. She stole occasional glances at him and, once or twice, their eyes met and it was as if their eyes were smiling at each other without their mouths moving.
That evening, after a good day’s sail, Liz cooked her first meal on board. After the bustle of Fiskardo, the bay that Philip had chosen as their anchorage was a welcome piece of quietude. They also swam in the crystal-clear water. It was so hot that they could hardly bear to wait to see if the yacht had settled in its anchor, then all four of them jumped in together.
The spaghetti with freshly cooked tomato sauce, which Liz had spiced up with some herbs she swam ashore to gather before it was too dark, was eaten in record time and Philip promised that the next morning they would swim ashore to do a recce of the shoreline.
They played a card game called Slippery-Ann. “Its proper name is Chase the Ace,” Jack stated, “and Mummy always won.” It was a simple comment but meaningful, and Liz wisely made no response, except to ask Jack from time to time what would be the best thing to do as she showed him her cards.
By now Jamie was yawning and took himself off to bed while Liz, Philip and Jack had a game of Scrabble. Liz won by a mile and the other two decided that being a writer gave her a distinct advantage and next time she would receive advance penalty points. What had changed Jack’s attitude Liz had no idea, but she was grateful for it anyway. It made for a happier boat and a happier crew. It was not to last for long…
Once both boys had gone to bed the adults, like conspirators, stole to Liz’s cabin. They almost tore off each other’s clothes – the restraint of the previous evening forgotten. They had just finished a marathon in lovemaking when Liz became aware of a voice calling. It was Jack. “Oh my God!” Philip swore as he leapt out of bed, and was standing completely naked when a knock, followed by the door opening, revealed Jack.
It was difficult to tell who was the most shocked. Jack’s face showed total disbelief. Liz felt mortified as she reached for the covers to hide her nakedness. Philip looked and sounded angry. “What the hell—” he started to say.
“How could you?” Jack looked in disbelief as his father reached for his pants. “Jamie’s ill,” he said abruptly and left. Philip didn’t even glance round as he gathered up his few items of clothing and left Liz alone and utterly shattered.
During the next hour she heard comings and goings, and finally, unable to stand it any longer, she got off the bed, pulled on a sweatshirt and some trousers. Jack was sitting alone at the table, his head bent. She could tell he had been crying but he neither looked up nor acknowledged her presence.
“How’s Jamie? What’s happening?” The boy didn’t reply. She walked through the salon to look in the boys’ cabin and then in Philip’s. They were both empty. “Where are they?” she demanded, standing in the space on the opposite side of the table to Jack. He didn’t answer and she repeated her question. “Jack I need to know, where is your father and where is Jamie?”
He looked up and she saw his face was filled with hatred. “They’ve gone to the hospital, and it’s all your fault. He doesn’t care about us anymore.” And with that final damning statement, he got up abruptly, walked to his cabin and very deliberately slammed the door.
Liz sat in the cockpit alone and worried. The dinghy had gone, and of Philip and Jamie, there was no sign. The hours passed and she watched the beauty of the day as the sun rose in the heavens without even seeing it. Finally, she felt the yacht tremble as Philip climbed back on board. He had not bothered to use the engine as they were so close to the shore, which was why she had not heard him coming.
“It’s alright,” he said, anticipating her question. “Acute appendicitis – thank God I got him to the little hospital in time. Where’s Jack?”
“Gone to bed,” she didn’t add any more, what was the point? She must get out of his life and that of his sons. The hours had given her time to formulate a plan. She had already packed her bag, she would take a ferry back from Fiskardo to Argostolion airport – if there was no ferry she would take a taxi for the twenty-three miles from Fiskardo. She would take the first available plane that would take her in the direction of Londo
n, even if it meant a transfer or two.
This man needed to be with his sons and they both, in different ways, needed him so badly. He demurred at first, but not for long and he rowed her the short distance to the shore where a taxi awaited her. They said a brief goodbye as Philip handed her the holdall she had bought when things were exciting and happy. Of Jack, there was no sign, and for that Liz felt a sense of relief. Philip seemed withdrawn. They didn’t touch, they certainly didn’t kiss, not even the customary kiss on the cheek.
In the end, the taxi took her all the way to the airport, where she found a flight within a few hours. First Class, Economy, she would take anything she informed the ticket office. Her mind was in turmoil, her emotions raw. Her only focus was home.
chapter 21
They weren’t expecting her at Villa O’Mal. Liz had taken a taxi. She was beyond exhaustion, she had been travelling non-stop since leaving the yacht. She was worried about Jamie, although Philip had seemed happy with the hospital on Cephalonia and had been impressed by the efficiency of the Greek surgeon and his staff, and by the time he had left the hospital Jamie was asleep in bed, though still drugged up. She hoped by now he was starting on the road to recovery.
The taxi arrived in the early hours. Ashok came running out at the sound of wheels on the drive. Nina followed him looking, Liz thought, very beautiful with her long waist-length black hair flowing over her shoulders to her waist.
They both looked very sleepy and she sent them back to bed after Ashok insisted on carrying her holdall into the villa for her. Anjali came down the stairs as Ashok put her bag on the marble floor and said it was good to have her home again. If Anjali was shocked at the tired-looking, rumpled figure before her she did not let it show. Putting her arm around her mistress she propelled her up the stairs.
The bedroom had never seemed so beautiful, but she could only stand, too tired to even take off her clothes. After a moment’s hesitation, Anjali guided her mistress to the bathroom and quickly undressed her, then washed her face and hands gently with a soft sponge before reaching for the freshly laundered robe hanging from a wrought-iron hook on the back of the bathroom door. She led her to the bed and took the robe off and, as Liz stood mesmerised, replaced it with a nightdress before turning down the bed covers and encouraging her to climb in.
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