Truly, Madly, Greekly: Sizzling summer reading

by Mandy Baggot

  * * *

  Yan swept the last of the glass into the dustpan and stood up, flinching a little as his bandaged foot met the floor. It was sore but it hurt a lot less than his pride. He’d treated Ellen terribly from start to finish. He’d invited her back to his room. That had been his first failing. Then, what had followed, was one mistake after another.

  Undressing her, inviting her to use his bathroom, offering her a drink, sharing conversation, touching her ... kissing her. Where was his self-control? Why did this one holidaymaker affect him so badly? If he wanted no-strings gratification, he could easily obtain it from Monica. Was that what he wanted? Someone to fulfil a basic need? He didn’t think so. He wasn’t like that.

  He put the dustpan on the table and slumped down onto a chair. She’d listened to him. She wanted to know about his aims. She was genuine. A curling ache built in his stomach as reality bit. She only liked him because she didn’t know. Rayna had loved him before she’d found out. Rayna was going to marry him and her father had given him a job. They’d been promised a house of their own in a time when things were so dire in his home country. He’d felt not just hopeful for his future, but excited about it. What a fool. He should have known there would be strings attached.

  He shook his head as the panic grew in his chest. He’d taken the only option available. He’d stolen what he needed and told a wealth of lies to escape. He couldn’t lose sight of what was most important now. It wasn’t any feelings he might be developing for someone on holiday. It was his survival.

  22

  ‘What am I going to do if he’s at breakfast?’

  It was the third time Lacey had asked the question during the walk from their suite towards the restaurant. The first time they’d been interrupted by having to break-up a fight between too anorexic-looking cats that were going at it over a thankfully dead beetle. The second time Lacey’d asked, two old ladies had approached them and thrown their arms around Ellen. You’re the heroine. I heard the boy was whiter than Michael Jackson. Pulled from the very jaws of death. And now, time number three, Ellen still didn’t want to answer.

  ‘Ells, what am I gonna do?’

  ‘Well, I’m going to have an egg and bacon roll.’

  The truth was she was just as nervous about seeing Yan. How awkward was it going to be? Although she’d told him she was very capable of handling a kiss on holiday for what it was, her stomach was in knots with the sickening morning-after-the-kiss-the-night-before feeling. And it wasn’t just that. It was the day in Sidari. The smell of the olive groves and sea salt, the laying on the sand, listening to the reggae music and the hum of the mopeds…She’d been so warm and content, so comfortable with him. None of which she could mention at all to Lacey.

  ‘I don’t know what to say. What do I say to him?’ Lacey asked.

  ‘Kalimera? Guten morgen? What other languages does he speak?’

  ‘I thought you’d be crosser than this.’

  ‘Would you like me to be?’ Ellen strode on and there it was. The adult only pool. At the moment still empty, but with towels on sun loungers around the perimeter waiting for just another day of sun-worshipping.

  She was holding her breath, trying not to think about what might have been and focus on the fact that everything was OK. Zachary had survived.

  ‘D’you think anyone will actually swim in it? I mean, don’t they need to do forensics or something?’ Lacey interrupted her thoughts.

  ‘It wasn’t a murder.’ She couldn’t help rolling her eyes at her sister. ‘And it will have been cleaned like normal.’

  ‘I’m not going in it. It’s creepy.’

  Ellen shaded her eyes from the sun as they carried on up the short run of steps and moved under the canopy of the outside bar, following through into the lobby and reception.

  ‘Oh God.’

  Ellen’s exclamation was in reaction to the banner, balloons and streamers straight ahead of them and the full animation team stood in front of it, wide smiles on their faces.

  ‘Oh my days, he’s here. He’s here! What do I do? What do I say?’ Lacey went into full-on panic mode.

  Ellen looked at Yan. His smile wasn’t as wide as those of the rest of the team. It seemed like it was a struggle to look at her. Dasha strode forward, crushing her in a bear-hug and, as her ribs bent, all she could do was let it happen.

  ‘Hi! Hi! Hi! You are hero! Miss Ellie, you are special person for our day today! We make for you delicious cocktail and please come for special breakfast!’

  She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want this fuss. She just wanted to keep her head down and get it straight.

  ‘Everyone at the Blue Vue Hotel would like to thank you for your rescue of little Zachary last night,’ Tanja spoke.

  Ellen nodded, her eyes slipping sideways to Yan as Lacey grabbed hold of her arm.

  ‘Don’t let me go,’ Lacey hissed in her ear.

  This was awful, people were starting to stare from inside the restaurant. Uri and his family were near the door and he had the loudest voice known to man.

  ‘Thank you but really it was ...’ She looked to Yan but he shook his head as he stepped forward, pressing a cocktail glass into her hand. He stepped back quickly, making sure not to nudge her fingers on contact, looking keen to keep his distance.

  ‘Is that bits of chocolate in there?’ Lacey asked, looking at the drink.

  Then, from across the lobby, a little boy was walking towards her. Ellen recognised him immediately. His blonde hair, a face with more colour than the night before and a smile. Zachary.

  ‘Hello,’ he greeted, a little subdued.

  ‘Hello, Zachary.’ She bent down to his level, dropping to her knees.

  ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

  ‘Oh, you don’t have me to thank.’ She wasn’t going to take the credit for all this with signs, cocktails and fanfare. ‘Yan over there saved your life.’

  She pointed to him deliberately, for her own benefit as much as Zachary’s. He deserved the praise and attention much more than she did. Yan dropped his head, refusing to look up.

  Zachary handed her a piece of paper.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘It’s for you.’ He grinned and pointed at the drawings in green pen. ‘That’s me lying on the water with my tongue sticking out and crosses for eyes. And that’s you.’

  Ellen looked at the person in the picture, a woman with a square head wearing a cape and doing what seemed like the butterfly. ‘You’ve made me look like a superhero.’

  ‘You are.’ Zachary’s mum reached out and touched Ellen’s arm as she got up.

  There were tears on the brink but she couldn’t let them out. She didn’t want to frighten Zachary and give away just how close he’d been to being lost.

  ‘We spent most of the night in hospital but, as you can see, he’s a little fighter,’ she said.

  ‘I’m so glad he’s OK.’ The words stalled and an emotional snort came out.

  ‘Thanks to you,’ Zachary’s mother said. She gave Ellen’s arm a squeeze and, as she did, Ellen pressed the cocktail glass to her mouth to stop the teary onslaught.

  * * *

  Yan felt sick. As he watched Dasha lead Ellen and Lacey into the restaurant he knew he should have done something more. He’d handed her a cocktail and averted his eyes every time she looked his way. What sort of person was he turning into? It was bad. It was rude. She had done nothing wrong except accept everything he’d pushed her way. Affection. Lust. Whatever it was it had been on him, not her.

  ‘Yan, did you hear what I say?’

  He hadn’t heard anything and he turned to his team leader with a blank expression. ‘I did not hear.’

  ‘I will need you to fill in report for the incident with Zachary. For hotel and for head office. To explain what happen and what you do. All the details,’ Tanja said.

  All at once it felt like every drop of blood in his whole body was racing to his head. A burning, pressing sensation was moving upon
him like a weighty cloud. He couldn’t respond. But he had to say something. Say anything.

  ‘I will bring you papers,’ Tanja informed.

  He could feel his heart, hard and heavy against his chest, banging a violent rhythm. It thumped in his ears, echoed through his mind, rolling its sound to his very core.

  He nodded at his boss and the effort of making the movement, going against everything his body was telling him to do, had him reaching for the banner stand for support.

  ‘You OK?’ Sergei physically steadied him as Tanja left them, following Ellen and Lacey into the restaurant.

  He nodded, trying to restore some air to his lungs and some normal patterns to his body’s engine. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Lacey would not look at me, you know,’ Sergei stated, sighing.

  Yan turned his head to Sergei, an expression of disgust on his face. The guy had no idea what a real problem was. He pursed his lips and spoke. ‘The problem is not with her looking at you. It is with you looking at her.’ He pointed a finger. ‘Stay away.’

  With those words hanging in the air, he headed out of the lobby.

  * * *

  ‘Is that a watermelon?’ Because it looks like a work of art or something.’

  Dasha had led them to a table for two by the window overlooking the lagoon. That alone wouldn’t have been an outstanding occurrence but the table was laid with crisp white linen, usually reserved for the evening meal, a bougainvillea display and an intricately carved watermelon.

  ‘It’s too much,’ Ellen said. She picked up the cocktail umbrella infested orange juice in front of her.

  ‘Oh my days. I think that waiter’s bringing us fruit salad,’ Lacey exclaimed.

  A dark-haired waiter approached the table, placed bowls in front of the pair, then left with an elaborate bow. Ellen turned her attention to the landscape out of the window. The lagoon stretched out towards the sea in the distance, the sun dappling the water with spots of bright light. The beach of Acharavi was also just visible. Its terracotta, cream and whitewashed buildings dotted like toy houses amongst the green fields and dusty tracks. It was all so beautiful, untroubled, relaxed. Everything she’d strived for with her free online life coach.

  ‘Ellen.’

  She looked up just in time to see a slice of pineapple fall out of Lacey’s mouth.

  ‘I’ve been unfaithful. And I’m not even married yet.’

  Lacey’s hair was falling forward all over her face, there was syrup from the fruit salad snaking its way down her chin and her large eyes were primed to leak. She had to say the right things, the sensible things. She just wasn’t sure she had it in her.

  She spoke. ‘I know about Gary Barlow.’

  Ellen watched her sister’s face turn from confused and tearful to shocked and disbelieving. Lacey’s lips fell open, losing a grape and her hands reached for the comforting solidity of the table.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Lacey shook her head. ‘He’s never been my favourite member of Take That.’ She flicked back her platinum mane. ‘I was always a Howard Donald girl.’

  Ellen nodded. She’d expected that reply. She knew Lacey would try and lie, gloss over everything, despite her expression and reaction already giving her away. That’s just how Lacey was. Talking her way out of situations, saying anything so as not to give the game up, even if it was as bloody obvious as Jason Gardiner’s hair transplant.

  ‘You know who I mean. Gary Barlow from school. The Gary Barlow you idolised from the second he joined. The Gary Barlow who never asked you out.’

  ‘Oh!’ Lacey slammed her hand on the table and tilted her head back in a laugh so fake it should have won an award. ‘Oh, that Gary Barlow!’

  Ellen shook her head at her sister and the overreaction. ‘I know you kissed him last year.’

  Lacey’s tan came off her face quicker than a waxing strip pulled by a well-qualified beautician. Her sister opened her mouth to speak but had nothing. Ellen watched her close her lips again and direct her eyes at the flower arrangement.

  Ellen let out a breath and felt slightly regretful. She shouldn’t have brought the subject up. She hadn’t done it for the right reasons. She’d done it to stop Lacey talking about Sergei as if he were a soul mate she’d discovered. It wasn’t going to help things. It was probably going to make things worse. But it was too late now.

  ‘Amy told me,’ Ellen drove on. ‘Remember how drunk she got when we went to the pizza restaurant for your birthday? She said if your tongue had been any further down Gary Barlow’s throat you could have licked his appendix.’

  Lacey shook her head, dropping it further toward the table.

  ‘I’m not judging you here, Lace. I just ...’ Ellen paused, considering what she really wanted to say. ‘It’s the second time this has happened and ... Maybe it’s a sign.’

  She wasn’t sure that was really what she’d wanted to say at all.

  Lacey raised her eyes from the tablecloth and the look Ellen found there wasn’t good. It was a mash-up between furious and bewildered, like a child about to have a full-blown tantrum. She wasn’t sure she wanted an angry baby unleashed at breakfast.

  ‘F.Y.I., Gary Barlow kissed me first and it didn’t mean anything. And, if you must know, he had that many ulcers it was like snogging a gherkin.’

  The picture being conjured up made Ellen’s already tender stomach rotate. ‘You’re missing the point. This isn’t about whether you enjoyed the experience or not, it’s about the actually doing it in the first place.’

  ‘If you knew, then why haven’t you said something before?’ Lacey accused.

  ‘Lacey ...’

  ‘No! If you knew I’d snogged Gary Barlow why haven’t you ever mentioned it?’

  ‘Well ... because Amy told me months after it happened and you were happy then. Happy with Mark, like normal. I assumed that meant it was just a mistake, a drunken kiss that meant nothing.’

  ‘So instead of saying something to me at the time, you thought you’d put it in a box at the back of your mind and bring it out to slap me in the face with when it suited you?’

  ‘Lacey ...’

  ‘No. This isn’t anything to do with me and Gary Barlow or even Sergei.’

  Lacey’s voice was increasing in volume with every word. Ellen could see Uri’s group turning their attention away from their mountainous plates of food.

  ‘This is to do with you!’ Lacey jabbed a finger across the table towards her.

  Ellen couldn’t stop her eyes from reacting to the pointing and the tone from her younger sister. Lacey had fixed her eyes on her and wasn’t letting go.

  ‘What d’you mean it’s about me? I’ve never kissed Gary Barlow.’

  ‘This conversation isn’t about kissing anyone.’ Lacey narrowed her eyes. ‘It’s about you being jealous.’

  ‘Jealous? Jealous of what?’

  ‘Jealous of me. Of me having Mark and a wedding and everything that goes with it. I saw you in the wedding boutique back home. You held a dress up to yourself and admired it in the mirror!’

  Lacey made it sound like looking at your reflection in a wedding dress shop was a sin that should have been top of the Ten Commandments.

  ‘You’re getting worked up. Take a breath.’

  ‘No, I won’t take a breath. That’s your stupid thing – the breathing and the focussing. I know exactly what all this is all about. It’s about you wanting me to be single, because you are.’

  Ellen didn’t know what to say. The mood Lacey was in there was little point saying anything. She was on the defensive, rattling out anything she could to deflect the conversation away from the fact that she’d cheated on Mark ... again. Ellen picked up her orange juice and took a sip. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Lacey fidgeting in her seat, picking at the fruit in her bowl with her fingers.

  ‘Of course only a few months ago you had a boyfriend. Well, at least we think you did. You said you did. Except for the fact we never met him,’ Lacey carri
ed on.

  Ellen put the glass down in a rush, turning back towards the serene view out of the window. Breathe and focus. She pulled in air, trying to suck some peace inside and ignore everything Lacey had said.

  ‘Now I don’t even know if he was real. ‘Cause one minute you were supposedly going off to Spain with him and the next you’re back. You cagily say you’ve broken up and you don’t tell us anything.’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell.’

  ‘Because he wasn’t real?’

  ‘No.’ If only. If he’d been a figment of her imagination she wouldn’t be in the dire situation she was in now, with her locked drawer, lack of furnishings and possible fraud conviction pending.

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘We’re not talking about me here. We’re talking about you and Mark. What you did with Sergei and Gary Barlow.’ Ellen sighed. ‘I don’t want you to be single, for God’s sake. I’ve spent the last year of my life trawling wedding venues.’ She paused. ‘I just want you to be happy, Lacey.’

  ‘You’re avoiding the questions. I knew he wasn’t real. Mark said he wasn’t real and I told him he was being dumb.’

  This was impossible. Or a blessing. If Lacey believed Ross had never existed she might question Ellen’s mental health but she’d stop asking. Then again, she didn’t want to completely lie to her sister. Maybe it was still too soon to share everything, but holding her hands up to being delusional was another thing altogether.

  ‘He was real.’ The words came out through tight lips. ‘He is real.’ Ellen sighed. ‘We went to Majorca and he asked me to marry him.’

  ‘Fuck.’

  Ellen let out a breath. ‘Yes, something like that.’

  ‘And you said no.’

  ‘Worse than that.’

  Lacey creased her brow.

  ‘I pointed at a boat.’

  * * *

  What was he going to do? How was he going to avoid it? Yan should have known something like this was always going to be a possibility. But if he’d known, would he have done things differently? Would he not have pulled the boy from the pool and saved his life?