Truly, Madly, Greekly: Sizzling summer reading

by Mandy Baggot

She could listen to that accent all day. Preferably with him naked beside her. That was it. She didn’t want to wait any longer. She wanted to spend the night with him. Tonight.

  ‘Are you doing a show tonight?’ she asked, her voice a little raspy.

  ‘Celtic show. Like Riverdance,’ he said. ‘There is fire.’

  ‘And after the show? What would you like to do then?’ She turned on her stool so she was facing him, keeping her voice low.

  ‘What would you like to do?’

  He had asked a question but it had sounded like one they already both knew the answer to.

  It was now or never. She swallowed, opening her mouth to speak.

  ‘Hi! Hi! Hi! Miss Ellie, you must come!’

  Something in Dasha’s high-pitched voice hit her emotional panic button. As he raced to them she saw his usual jovial smile was missing, replaced by a look of concern, his eyebrows almost up in his hairline.

  She knew. ‘It’s Lacey isn’t it?’

  ‘What has happen?’ Yan demanded to know.

  ‘You must not make the panic. She is OK. We look after her,’ Dasha stated as he played with the lace on his top.

  ‘Where is she?’ Ellen asked, looking at Dasha.

  ‘She is with Sergei. They wait for doctor in reception area,’ he informed.

  ‘Has she had an accident?’ Now she was a little bit scared.

  ‘She has bucket.’

  That reply told her all she needed to know.

  * * *

  ‘She’s drunk too much and now she’s playing her favourite game, I Love Lacey,’ Ellen announced.

  She was stomping at speed through the hotel complex towards the main building and Yan was going with her. He had many things to do but he couldn’t leave her until he knew she was going to be all right.

  ‘Game?’ He didn’t understand.

  ‘Attention-seeking. That’s what she’s best at.’ She puffed out a breath. ‘She was like it when she was planning the wedding and she’s like it now there isn’t going to be a wedding.’

  ‘She is sad?’ Yan suggested.

  ‘No, just a pain in the arse.’

  ‘Arse? What is arse?’

  Ellen didn’t answer him but carried on marching up the steps.

  * * *

  It wasn’t hard to pick out her sister in reception. Lacey had turned into a lobster, her pink bikini camouflaged against her glowing skin. She was sitting in a massage chair, reclined back, a small white towel pressed to her forehead. Sergei stood beside her, holding an ice bucket.

  ‘Oh my God, look at her.’ Ellen couldn’t help exclaiming. Lacey’s flesh was bright red and angry and as she stepped up to the scene her sister leant to the left and threw up.

  ‘How did she get like this?’ Her voice was accusing and she directed it at Sergei.

  ‘You look at me?’

  ‘You’re with her, collecting her puke.’

  ‘Ellen,’ Yan broke in.

  ‘She lie in sun all the day and drink too much of cocktails,’ Dasha informed.

  ‘The first one is something that stupid children with no responsible adults looking after them do. The second one she’s done every day of this holiday so far.’

  ‘Make it stop,’ Lacey groaned, holding a hand to the towel on her head.

  ‘Make it stop?’ Ellen took a step towards Lacey. ‘I’ll make it stop. Get off that chair and get back to the room. All you need is after-sun and painkillers.’ She grabbed at Lacey’s arm and pulled her forward.

  Lacey screamed and a passing waiter dropped his tray of glasses to the floor. Ellen let go of her sister’s arm and looked at the blanch marks left on Lacey’s skin. The three finger-shapes were not disappearing and Lacey was now blubbing uncontrollably.

  ‘We wait for doctor, Miss Ellie,’ Dasha said, putting an arm around her.

  Did Lacey really need a doctor or was this all acting up as usual? She no longer had people to dance around entertaining her with wedding apparel at the hotel. Sergei had been working all day and she had ... she had left her. Was this really a reaction to breaking up with Mark? Was the earlier nonchalance a mask? Had Lacey now realised the devastation, sat in the sun uncaring about her own health and safety, alone and hurting while Ellen had been halfway up a mountain?

  She didn’t know what to do. She was in a foreign country and her sister needed medical attention. She looked away from Lacey, seeking Yan.

  ‘It is not your fault,’ he whispered.

  She nodded, letting the words and his tone comfort her.

  ‘She do this all herself,’ he continued.

  She nodded again, but it was somewhat half-hearted this time.

  ‘I feel sick,’ Lacey yelled, turning in her seat and hanging her head towards the bucket.

  ‘Lacey?’

  Ellen balked, darting her eyes in the direction of the voice. A familiar voice. Her dad’s voice.

  And there he was, Al. Larger than life, dark hair slicked back, pale chinos on his legs and a Cotton Traders polo-shirt in XXL. He had a giant holdall in each hand and was looking toward his ailing daughter.

  ‘Dad,’ Ellen greeted, rushing towards him. She needed a hug. She needed his consolation.

  ‘Ellie, what’s goin’ on ‘ere? What’ve you done to your sister?’ Al dropped the bags.

  The hug didn’t come. And the blame was placed firmly at her door.

  ‘Nothing,’ Ellen mumbled.

  ‘It don’t look like nothin’ from where I’m standin’. What’s goin’ on here? Is this what all this cancellin’ the weddin’ nonsense is about? She been drugged or somethin’?

  ‘Drugs? No, sir, we have no thing like this here,’ Dasha chirped up, toying with the florescent yellow beads around his neck.

  ‘You a man or a woman?’ Al barked.

  ‘Dad, for Heaven’s sake, stop it,’ Ellen begged.

  ‘Stop it? I’ve only just started, girl. Me and Mark have come over ‘ere to find out what the bleedin’ ‘ell’s goin’ on.’

  ‘Mark.’ The whimper came from Lacey.

  ‘Mark’s here?’ Ellen whispered. She swallowed. This was a disaster.

  * * *

  Their father was here and Mark, the man Lacey had been going to marry. Yan looked at Dasha. The man had his hands on his hips now and was pouting at Al, probably cross his gender had been questioned. Sergei had paled significantly.

  ‘Of course Mark’s ‘ere. You don’t get a text tellin’ you the weddin’s off and not do nothin’ about it.’ Al glared at Ellen. ‘Why ‘aven’t you done somethin’ about it?’

  ‘I ...’ Ellen began.

  ‘Please, sir,’ Yan began. ‘No one is to blame.’ The second his words made contact with Al’s consciousness he realised he should have said nothing.

  ‘No one is to blame? My daughter’s sittin’ ‘ere looking like a bleedin’ tomato, ‘urlin’ her guts up and no one’s to blame?’ Al boomed. ‘Who served ‘er too many bloody cocktails?’

  ‘Dad, stop shouting. This isn’t anyone’s fault,’ Ellen begged.

  Ellen looked completely shell-shocked. She was trembling and instinctively Yan put a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Dad,’ Lacey moaned, holding out her hand to him and trying to sit herself up in the chair.

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do, Ellie.’ Al grabbed hold of Lacey’s hand and helped her off the chair. ‘It looks like you’ve done quite enough already.’

  Angry, bitter words, pushing the fault onto Ellen. Yan already disliked this man. He felt Ellen’s shoulder sag and he removed his hand.

  ‘Mark,’ Lacey whispered through sore, tight lips.

  ‘He’s taken the cases to our room. Let’s get you down there and get some coffee.’ Al glared at Sergei. ‘Get us some coffee and get someone to carry these.’ He pointed at his holdalls, abandoned on the floor.

  * * *

  Ellen was redundant, unneeded and unnecessary. Her dad had walked in and taken over and he blamed her for everything. She didn’t know why she was
so surprised. It had been like this her entire life. Yes, he might be proud of all her achievements, both academic and professional, but she was also the first person he blamed when things weren’t perfect. Especially when it came to Lacey.

  She watched Al walk away, propping Lacey up, while a porter trailed behind, struggling with the weight of the holdalls.

  ‘I feel sorry for Miss Lacey,’ Dasha remarked, moving the necklace through his hands like worry beads.

  Ellen couldn’t stop a snort coming from her nose. That was the problem, everyone always felt sorry for Lacey. No matter what she did, it was never Lacey’s fault.

  ‘Dasha, you should go for food,’ Yan told him.

  ‘Yes, big show tonight, Miss Ellie.’

  Ellen looked at Dasha, not really acknowledging what he’d said. The reality was just about starting to sink in. Her dad was here, with Mark. Here. In Corfu.

  ‘Get for me some salad. I will be there in one minute,’ Yan said.

  What was she going to do? How was she going to fix this giant mess? It hadn’t been in her three day plan to sort anything out until they got home and now home was here.

  ‘I do not like the way he speak to you.’

  Yan’s words broke into her thoughts and she raised her head, meeting his eyes.

  ‘He does not listen and he does not know what happen,’ Yan continued.

  She shook her head. ‘He always does that. It’s just his way.’

  ‘It is wrong way.’

  ‘He’s my dad, Yan. The only family I’ve got except Nan and she’s barely there at all now she’s in her nineties.’

  ‘That mean he can speak with you like that? To not listen and to try to make your fault?’

  Ellen shrugged. She didn’t know what else to say. She had promised Al she would look after Lacey on this holiday, just like she’d told him every other time she’d been left in charge of her. Except nothing had ever happened before. There hadn’t been a broken relationship or sunstroke, just a case of head lice and a melted Barbie horse.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said.

  ‘No. Not like this.’

  ‘I have to. I have to make sure she’s all right and ... I have to be with my family.’

  Not that she would really be noticed. Al and Mark would circle Lacey, flocking and fawning, while she fetched whatever Lacey wanted. She’d always been the one who kept hold of normality whenever Lacey’s chaos descended.

  ‘I want for you to eat with me.’

  * * *

  It would be noticed, him sitting with a hotel resident, but he needed to say something to stop her from going. She couldn’t leave feeling so badly about herself, her father’s words echoing in her ears, believing she was at fault. He wanted her to go away happy from their afternoon together, looking forward to the night. He didn’t want things to change. They had so little time, what if this shock arrival changed things between them?

  ‘Give them time to ...’ he paused. ‘Give Lacey time to stop ...’

  ‘Puking?’ Ellen offered.

  ‘Is that the word?’ he asked.

  She nodded, putting her hands into her hair and sweeping it back. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You are sure?’

  ‘Even if I’m not needed for Lacey now I should get ready for later.’

  She took her hands from her head and gave him a small smile. There was more colour on her cheeks and she had stopped shaking.

  ‘I will see you at the show?’ Yan queried.

  ‘I expect so, once Dad’s over the initial fright of seeing Lacey that way ...’ She stopped to take a breath. ‘He likes entertainment.’

  Yan swallowed.

  ‘And after the show?’

  Air escaped Ellen’s lips and she joined one hand with her other, toying with her fingers. ‘I don’t know, Yan. I don’t know if I can. I mean, I should be with my family and try and sort all this out.’

  He’d expected this reaction, was ready for it, but it didn’t stop him finding it hard. ‘I understand.’ He said the sentence quickly, so there could be no going back.

  ‘Do you?’

  He didn’t trust himself to say anything else. He did understand but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be with her because he knew in a few days he would never see her again and that pulled at him.

  ‘I want to see you so much but ...’ she started.

  She sounded like she was sorry. He didn’t want to make things difficult for her. Perhaps it was best to just let go.

  ‘I understand. You have to go,’ he breathed out.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

  She turned then and he watched her go, rushing through the lobby, each step taking her further away from everything they’d shared.

  34

  ‘So, tell me this time, what the ‘ell’s been goin’ on ‘ere?’

  Al’s question was directed at Ellen.

  It hadn’t been hard to find Al’s room. She’d headed down the main path until she heard his voice shouting commands – at Lacey to stop crying, at Mark to pour coffee, at a poor maid for no particular reason at all.

  Now she was sat on one of the dining chairs, twining and untwining her fingers. Lacey had passed out on Al’s bed with the air conditioning on full pelt and Mark had been sent to the bar on a beer run.

  ‘Nothing’s been going on, Dad.’ She knew that wouldn’t be a good enough answer but it was all she had and it was the truth.

  ‘Do I look like I was born bleedin’ yesterday? Something must ‘ave ‘appened.’ Al put his hands to his hips and held in his paunch. ‘One minute she’s ‘ere checkin’ out the amenities for the weddin’, the next she’s textin’ Mark it’s over.’

  ‘I know.’ What else could she say?

  ‘You know? Is that it? You know.’

  She was never going to be able to shirk the blame in her father’s eyes. Al was already confident that Lacey’s decision was Ellen’s doing and he didn’t even know the half of it.

  ‘I don’t know what I can say,’ she tried. The fact was, it didn’t matter what she said. Al just needed to shout and, rightly or wrongly, she had to wear it.

  ‘You could say that she wasn’t in her right mind when she sent that message. You could say she was drunk on cocktails and she didn’t mean it,’ Al suggested.

  ‘I could say that,’ Ellen responded. ‘But it wouldn’t be the truth.’

  ‘That’s not helping, Ellie.’

  She watched him put both his hands to his head and suck in a giant breath.

  ‘I told her she shouldn’t have ended it by text. I said it was cruel and ...’

  ‘Why the ‘ell didn’t you phone me? If she was ‘avin’ these pre-weddin’ nerves or what-‘ave-you ...’

  ‘It isn’t pre-wedding nerves, Dad. There’s a lot more to it than that.’

  ‘Like what? I’ve been bloody well askin’ you for the last ‘alf hour.’

  ‘It isn’t really for me to say.’ Ellen paused, watching for his reaction and knowing what it would be.

  ‘It isn’t for you to say? Are you windin’ me up? What d’you think you’re ‘ere for?’

  She swallowed. And here it was again. It was her fault because her role in the family was looking after Lacey. It was her responsibility alone. No one else took ownership and if things went wrong she was held accountable.

  There was a knock on the door.

  ‘That’ll be Mark,’ Al stated.

  Ellen didn’t move. She was actually terrified about seeing him. He would probably take the same tack as Al. She hadn’t shielded Lacey from her own opinions. God knows what would happen if they found out about Sergei.

  Al let out an exasperated noise at her lack of movement and crossed the room. He flung open the door and there was Mark, a tray of plastic cups filled with beer in his hands. Sandy-brown hair spiked up with hair products, puppy dog grey-green eyes. She’d forgotten just how boyish and vulnerable he looked.

  ‘Come on in, son,’ Al welcomed.

  Ellen stood
up and angled her body towards the open door. She didn’t want to meet his gaze, let alone answer any questions. ‘I have to go ... I need to have a shower and ...’

  ‘You’re not goin’ anywhere until this lad ‘as ‘ad an explanation,’ Al boomed.

  She fixed her eyes on the grey floor tiles. Even though none of this was her doing she still felt a cloak of guilt on her shoulders, the weight of which was crushing her.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Mark said, his voice soft. He sniffed and she heard the tray of drinks go down onto the table.

  ‘No, it’s not all right. We need to be kept in the loop ‘ere. No one’s tellin’ us anythin’,’ Al carried on.

  She had to face this head on. She had to look him in the eye. She hadn’t done anything and she felt sorry for him. She raised her head.

  ‘Hi, Ellen,’ he greeted soberly.

  ‘Hi,’ she replied. ‘Listen, I just want to say that when I didn’t answer my phone yesterday it wasn’t because ...’

  ‘You never answered your phone to ‘im?!’ Al made it sound like she’d committed treason.

  ‘No. I wanted to but Lacey ...’ Ellen sputtered.

  ‘Lacey told you not to,’ Mark guessed.

  ‘Christ, she’s just a kid, Ellen. You should ‘ave taken control of this situation the minute it started goin’ tits up.’

  She needed to get out. Her head was beginning to ache and she wasn’t helping. Her very presence was adding fuel to the fire. Mark needed to speak to Lacey who was in a sun and booze inflicted stupor and was likely to remain that way until the morning. No one could give him the answers he wanted except her sister.

  ‘If I had any idea that this was goin’ to ‘appen I wouldn’t ‘ave let you come ‘ere.’

  Something inside Ellen twisted at his words.

  ‘Wouldn’t have let me,’ she stated, her voice deadpan.

  ‘I wasn’t fully on board with ‘avin’ the weddin’ abroad as it was. Foreign food and Delhi belly. There’s no way you’d ever get an ‘alf decent sausage roll,’ Al continued.

  ‘It isn’t your wedding,’ she said, focussing her eyes on Mark.

  ‘I was bleedin’ payin’ for it.’