Looking for the Durrells

by Melanie Hewitt

  Penny could resist, ignore what the island had taught her, or when she returned home, choose to forget. The wise let the new feelings and revelations in, absorbed them and were grateful to the island and its people for what they so generously revealed and shared.

  Penny parked the car opposite the Athena and clicked open the boot, walking around to the back to take the paintings out. Wedging them under her arm she locked the car and started walking down the lane to the apartment. Halfway down she saw a man walking towards her.

  She stopped for a moment to hitch up the paintings under her arm. She then carried on walking, as did he. When Dimitris reached her, he didn’t say a word for a moment.

  When people said that their hearts were in their mouths, she now knew what they meant. She braced herself for a goodbye, the end of something before it had really had a chance to get started.

  ‘I’ve been looking for you. I looked in the Athena, but didn’t see you,’ he said.

  ‘I mentioned to Tess that I was going into Corfu Town. Did you see her?’

  ‘No, I just stepped inside. She must have been in the kitchen.’

  As he studied her face, she felt the paintings she was holding become heavier.

  In one swift movement he took the parcels from underneath her arm and then leant them against the stone wall beside them.

  ‘Penny,’ he began, ‘we didn’t finish our evening out. Are you free?’ He smiled as he spoke, resting his hands on her upper arms.

  It felt to her as though he was asking about more than whether she could go out that night. Yes, I am free, she thought, and tonight is a good place to start enjoying that.

  ‘No, we didn’t. We were rudely interrupted,’ she replied. ‘But I know it won’t happen again.’

  ‘Shall we risk it and try again this evening?’

  ‘I’d like that very much.’

  ‘Great. Shall we say 7.30 at the Mediterranean?’ He picked up her parcels. ‘Can I help you with these?’

  ‘I’m fine. They’re not really heavy, just a little awkward. Honestly, I’ll be fine.’ She didn’t want him to ask her about the parcels, in case it spoiled the surprise if she gave him even a hint about the paintings. ‘See you at 7.30.’

  As he placed the parcels under her arm, he looked at her intently for a moment and said, ‘Yes, 7.30.’ Then, because she was smiling and lifting her head, so invitingly, he bent down and kissed her. Half-laughing, a little clumsily, they rested their foreheads together for a moment and then parted.

  She walked back to the apartment, aware as she did that something else had changed again between them. Another marker had been reached on the journey of whatever was happening, wherever they were heading. Whatever it was, could be, wasn’t over.

  Chapter 50

  Nic sat in the Mouse House trying to focus on some notes he was writing up for a new university course planned for September. He’d been putting it off, but knew that there was never as much time towards the end of the holiday as he thought there would be. The work began to outrun the days and with that came the frustration of not being able to spend as much time with Tess, Theo, and Spiro.

  He got up to pour himself a glass of water from the large bottle in the fridge, looking out at the rear garden as he did so. It needed a little taming, but there was a luxuriant beauty about it at this time of year that he loved.

  It crossed his mind too that it was just the sort of half-wild territory where Theo could spend a happy afternoon watching and studying a variety of creatures, but sadly not Ulysses now. Nic had picked his mother up from the airport that morning and taken Ulysses with him. She couldn’t bear to be in the house without her parrot and he was always there to greet her when she came back from Athens.

  The Mouse House felt strangely quiet and emptier without the chatty bird. He thought for a moment about the times, not so long ago, when he had shared a few glasses of ouzo and much laughter with Georgios. For a time, Tess had joined them at their get-togethers and he had seen his oldest friend happy and secure in a loving marriage, occasionally slightly bumpy but a good one.

  After Theo had been born the focus had been very much on the Athena, home, and family. Nic was still warmly welcomed into the circle, but they all knew it was a new chapter in their lives.

  On the wall in the kitchen was a small framed photograph of Nic and Georgios aged about 20, arms around each other’s shoulders, raising a glass, celebrating their first summer back from university and being together again for a few glorious weeks.

  Another world. Another lifetime.

  As he put down the glass he looked out at the terrace and saw Tess standing there.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Are you receiving visitors? I’ve escaped for half an hour.’

  Nic, surprised but delighted, offered Tess a drink.

  This never happened. Tess never came to the Mouse House. She never had time.

  ‘This is an unexpected pleasure. Is everything okay?’ Taking a seat next to her, he looked across with a little concern at Tess.

  ‘Everything’s fine. Ina arrived at work when she wasn’t on the rota, so with Spiro, Anna, and Lily holding the fort, I didn’t think I’d be missed and so . . . well, here I am.’

  Nic was glad all was well, but it still didn’t really explain why Tess had come to see him. He would have gone to the Athena later anyway.

  ‘Well, have five minutes on me. If you want to close your eyes and drift off, that’s fine. I know how rare these moments are for you.’ Nic sat back in his chair and gazed across the garden.

  ‘I’m not tired, or no more than usual.’ She paused, looked at her hands, then picked up her orange juice and sipped it. ‘I was chatting with Penny earlier, when she came in for a late breakfast.’

  ‘Is she all right after her surprise last night?’ Nic asked.

  ‘Yes, in need of coffee and toast, but good, I think. Last night’s unexpected visitor won’t be returning. And I’m guessing that there may well be something developing between her and our friend Dimitris.’

  ‘I did wonder when they arrived together last night.’ Nic smiled, thinking of the girl who’d been very much on her own when they had first met in the shade of the Liston.

  ‘She said a few things this morning that made me think, and that really resonated with me.’

  ‘That sounds intriguing.’ Nic leant forward,

  ‘She talked about her dad and something he used to say.’

  Nic wondered where Tess was going with this and if it was a bad day, crowded with memories of losing Georgios.

  ‘Penny said he told her that real love is being with someone who’s there with you through the worst things life throws at you, to make sure you don’t give up, and to share the load. Someone who never gives up on you.’

  She looked at Nic and watched his face closely as she spoke.

  ‘Nic, I don’t know what this means, what difference it might make to our friendship, but I realized this morning that for me you are that person: the person who never lets me give up, who has been there, uncomplaining and constant – even when you’re not physically here – for me and Theo.

  ‘I’m not sure what I’m saying or whether it’s a good idea to say it, but I can’t imagine a time or a world in which you won’t always be that person. More importantly, I don’t want to think about a life where you won’t be with me, with us.’

  Tess stopped and tried to read Nic’s face, wondering what he would say, if anything. What could he say? Had she just upset the balance of their friendship irrevocably?

  ‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she added, wanting to give him time to absorb what she’d said. She wasn’t too sure herself where some of it had come from, so how could she expect Nic to understand what she was saying?

  The air was sleepy and heavy with the noonday heat as Tess’s words glided over to Nic and he began to unravel them in his head.

  ‘I want to say something, Tess, but like you, I don’t want to say too much, or anything that chan
ges a friendship I care about more than any other in the world. I hope you know how much you and Theo mean to me.’

  Nic’s normally steady-as-a-rock demeanour was clearly struggling to stay in control. What was Tess really saying and why was she saying it now?

  ‘There is nothing that you could say that would change how I feel about you, Nic, or change what you mean to me. I don’t think I’m saying I’m in love with you, but I do love you, and if that’s enough for you, then it’s more than enough for me. If you feel some of what I feel, then perhaps we have a chance to make something deeper and different out of what we already have.’ She paused before adding, ‘If that’s close to anything that you might want . . .’

  She felt the relief of someone who didn’t realize that they’d needed to share something, but in the sharing had finally realized its truth and importance.

  Nic seemed to be in suspended animation, barely moving, as though if he said anything, he might break a spell. Without thinking she reached out to touch his face, moving out of her chair as she did so. He put his hand over hers, moved it to his mouth, and kissed it gently. Tess sat at his feet and put her head in his lap.

  As he stroked her hair Nic looked down at the woman he loved, he said simply and tenderly, ‘That works for me.’

  Chapter 51

  Penny was still undecided about when to hand over the paintings to Tess and to Aris, thinking that the best thing would probably be to give them on the day she went home.

  Home. What was that going to feel like?

  As she took a last look in the mirror, everything seemed surreal: where she was; who she was about to meet. The tanned open face that glanced back at her was like part of a dream. Someone she barely knew.

  Would going home make all of this rich and miraculous experience disappear, dissolve like a mirage?

  No one had ever said that wanting to be with someone was convenient, or easy. Feelings couldn’t be turned off like a tap. The sudden and overwhelming attraction, the sense of something new and life-affirming, but uncertain, was a new experience, alive with possibilities.

  As she bounced down the marble stairs and passed the pool, she noticed the tiny orbs of phosphorescence that she now knew were fireflies.

  The fireflies moved silently and Penny carried on walking. There was no message that she needed to hear. No advice or permission that anyone could or would offer her. She was the mistress of own fate, the diviner of her own destiny. If the island and the fireflies had any message at all, it was just that.

  The Athena was already busy as she passed. The Dora was in the harbour. And there standing by the entrance to the Mediterranean’s garden was Dimitris, looking cool and relaxed in a blue shirt and jeans. He raised his hand in greeting as soon as he saw her and her steps quickened for the last few yards.

  ‘Hello.’ She stretched up to kiss his cheek, as though it was the most natural and practised thing in the world, something that they did every day.

  He took her hand, not to make sure she didn’t trip or to help her onto a boat, but to hold it in a loving, warm, natural gesture.

  She had an overwhelming sense of feeling safe, tempered with an equally strong need to protect him, to keep him safe too.

  The beach was the perfect place to sit and watch the moon rise. On the sand near the dunes, all they could hear were the waves rolling in.

  In Penny’s head the diminishing number of days left on Corfu, which had started to feel threateningly short, were forgotten, as all that mattered now was sitting next to this man, sharing their stories, and the bliss of getting to know him better.

  Pressing her bare feet into the sand, she listened to Dimitris’s story of his time in London and since he’d returned home. So many small but significant things that helped her to build a picture of the man she was falling in love with. He asked her about her life in England, her dad, Bruce, the books she read, the music she loved.

  The fragrant wine they’d drunk had relaxed every bone in her body. It was so easy tonight to talk. When they’d finished the bottle of wine Spiro had handed them, he had waved away their request for a bill and wished them both good health. It felt like a blessing.

  She spoke lovingly about her dad, as Dimitris spoke in a similar way about his mother, each understanding the ways that loss had impacted on the other, at different times, in different circumstances. They both understood that feeling of standing in the abyss of grief, of loving and losing, then rediscovering their capacity for love and life.

  There was a plan made too to visit the Snow White Villa together. To share and delight in the discovery for her, and rediscovery for him, of the island.

  Dimitris put his arm around her shoulder as she talked about the impact Corfu had had on her life in such a short time, and why. Instinctively, she rested her head on his shoulder as she did so. Each tried to outdo the other in a gentle and wholly generous attempt to comfort, connect, and celebrate what they had found together.

  Hours passed that felt like minutes, before they decided to walk back up to the main street.

  Dimitris waited as Penny put her shoes back on.

  He took her hand again, kissing it before he let it fall back to her side. ‘Kardia mou,’ he whispered in her ear.

  Chapter 52

  It was so early in the morning that St George hadn’t quite changed into its day clothes and there was still a hint of ethereal sleepiness about it.

  The blanket-grey sky gave in gracefully to the golden rays of the rising sun and a porcelain-blue canopy established itself above. The shops, tavernas, and bars were silent. First breakfasts were still an hour or so away and the atmosphere was more Marie Celeste than a vibrant coastal village.

  It was into this nearly waking world that Penny stepped, making her way slowly to the sea from her apartment. It was the earliest she’d ventured out on Corfu. Even the cats didn’t stir as she passed.

  She wanted to enjoy the space of a new day, alone, walking on the beach. She also needed more than anything to reflect on the last days and particularly the evening before.

  Dimitris was already out with his father on the Dora. They had left in darkness.

  Past the harbour now and onto the sands, she slipped out of her flip-flops and carried them in her left hand. Over her shoulder, the harbour and then the Athena beyond, were softly gilded shapes, slowly revealed by the new light.

  Just before she reached the dunes, she dropped her sandals, sat down, pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them. Resting her head on her knees she stared out at the sea.

  All she could hear were the waves and her own thoughts.

  As she did at all important moments in her life, she sat quietly playing back the film reel of her evening with Dimitris.

  After they’d left the beach they’d wandered around St George, like teenagers who’d just met at a noisy party, felt a mutual attraction for each other, and had decided to escape, to spend time alone.

  Walking slowly and stopping every now and again to say hello to one of his friends or acquaintances, they had ended up at a quiet family-run bar. The tables stood on a stone terrace, the sea smooth and glassy below. The candle on the table danced in its glass holder, celebrating the gentle movement of the warm night air.

  As she recalled it now Penny smiled, closing her eyes to bring the memory closer: the sound of Dimitris’s voice, the sea, the stars above, and a yacht on the horizon.

  If she was honest, this strange newness of being with someone was combined with a growing ease and familiarity. She liked the way he almost chastised himself when he’d expressed something in a way he thought clumsy, or if he felt he’d asked something she didn’t want to answer. He had not mentioned Bruce directly, but asked her how she was in a way that acknowledged what had happened the night before.

  Telling him the story made it feel like history, something she’d read in a book. She found it liberating to not try to be something, someone, she wasn’t.

  Bruce had harvested her confidence, which
she now realized had been the powerful dynamic in their relationship. All her dad’s wonderful and enriching words of love and support, so uplifting throughout her childhood, had wilted under the reign of Bruce.

  The thought still haunted her that if her dad hadn’t become so ill, when all her instincts had been to be with and look after him, the necessary and final rift with Bruce might not have occurred.

  She hoped that it would have come at some point. Being alone was better than being with someone who didn’t love her – the real her.

  ‘This is the real me, here and now.’ The words sang in her head as she tried to memorize Dimitris’s face.

  She’d had to coax him to talk about himself. When he did, she sat back and enjoyed the time she could watch him, without feeling as though she was staring. In his self-effacing manner he dismissed his years in London as a lucky break because Theo was his uncle, rather than accepting the idea that it had anything to do with his talent or skills.

  He still found talking about his mother painful. Penny could sense that he not only blamed himself for not being there when she had died, but for the fact that she had died at all. Had he broken her heart with his apparent disinterest and being away for so long? The fact that he was talking about it at all, was, Penny would discover in later days and weeks, miraculous.

  She had come away to Corfu not to find herself, but to find a way to move forward, to begin living again. To experience all the tiny, but significant joys of the everyday, without grief tugging her back under the bedclothes.

  There was no bartering or halfway house with death. It was a fact, a constant for humanity in a world where discussing it was often considered a taboo. That it should shock and disorientate was forgivable, understandable . . . human.