‘Why didn’t you tell me, Mama?’ Nicky asked and the question hung. For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. For a moment he thought, how could she?
‘I was very young,’ she said at last, and her voice sounded as if it came from a long way away. ‘I was in America and I was by myself. And I knew…I knew Nikos…your papa…and his wife were having a baby here. That baby is Christa. So I thought your papa needed to stay here to take care of Christa. I knew I could take care of you, and I did.’
And behind those words? Raw, unresolved pain. Bleak. Stark. Dreadful.
How to take that pain away?
Nikos knew that he couldn’t. Ten years of pain, and the only way he could alleviate it was a truth that wasn’t his to tell.
And he hadn’t caused that pain. It was Athena who’d left.
‘Why didn’t you come back here?’ Nicky asked her, obviously fighting to find some sense in all this.
‘I have a great job, Nicky,’ Athena said. ‘I needed to work to support you.’
‘But…’ Nicky paused and looked from Athena to Nikos and back again. His mother and his father, and a history he didn’t understand.
This was too heavy, Nikos thought. It was way, way too hard. Maybe they should have left this for the future, for some more appropriate time to tell him, but what was done was done. And somewhere in this mess they had to find joy.
He had a son. Yes, there was heartache and regret but he had a son, and his son needed to lose that look of confusion and…and yes, even the echo of his own sense of betrayal.
‘See that rock out there in the bay?’ he said, fighting for the right note. ‘The big one with the flat top about two hundred yards from shore?’
‘Mmm,’ Nicky said, still dazed.
‘I taught your mother to dive off that rock. Or I tried to. She kept doing bellywhackers.’
‘I did not,’ Athena retorted, struggling not to falter, and he knew that where he went she’d follow. How could she help it now?
‘You did, too,’ he said, and managed a strained sort of grin. ‘You get your mama to take you out and show you her diving skills,’ he told Nicky. ‘She’ll do bellywhackers every single time.’
‘Christa, can you swim?’ Athena asked, still sounding desperate, and Nikos thought maybe he’d got it right. He’d deflected the father bit, giving Nicky time to come to terms with it as he wanted.
He knew there was a lot more discussion to come. Some of that would have to be personal, between Athena and Nicky.
Some of that needed to be between himself and Athena.
‘I like…swimming,’ Christa said. She’d pushed her shoes off-she hated shoes-and her feet were resting on Oscar. ‘I like…dog.’
‘I think Oscar likes you,’ Athena said.
‘Does this mean Christa is my sister?’ Nicky asked and Nikos’s thoughts went flying again. The issues were too big. Huge.
‘I guess she is,’ Athena said softly. ‘Your half-sister.’ Then she said gently, ‘Christa has something called Down’s syndrome. That means she was born with something a little different from most children. All the bits that start a baby growing…they’re called chromosomes. Christa got an extra one. It makes the tips of her ears a bit small. It makes her tongue a little bit big and her eyes really dark and pretty. And it affects her in other ways too, including her speech.’
‘But she likes Oscar.’
‘She does,’ Athena said gravely, smiling at Christa. ‘I think Christa is our friend already. I think having her as your sister might be really cool.’
So much for leading the conversation, Nikos thought. It was now about the three of them. He was right out of the equation.
Somewhere, once, he’d read some scathing comment on fatherhood. Mothers knew all about their children’s dramas, their love lives, the spots on the back of their necks. Fathers were vaguely aware there were short people in the house.
Not him, he thought. With Christa, he’d been so much more hands on. But he felt sidelined here.
‘I wanted a sister,’ Nicky was saying, cautious. ‘A little sister. But Christa’s nine.’
‘I’m nine,’ Christa said, nodding grave agreement.
‘But she’s much shorter than you,’ Thena said. ‘I think she always will be, so that means she’ll always be your little sister.’
‘So I get to look after her?’
‘If you want.’
‘Do I hafta share?’
‘I guess you and Christa can work those things out for yourselves,’ Athena said, and Christa looked at Nicky and beamed.
‘Nicky,’ she said.
‘Brother,’ Nicky said importantly and thumped his chest.
‘Brother,’ Christa repeated and thumped her chest.
They giggled.
Just like that, Nikos thought, stunned. It was over, just like that. Yeah, there’d be complications. Yeah, there’d be difficulties. But, for now…it was sorted.
‘Now,’ Athena said in a voice that boded ill.
‘Now?’
‘What about this reception?’
What were they thinking? Talking of social events when she’d casually given him his son? He felt as if all the wind had been sucked from his lungs and he wasn’t the least sure how to get it back.
Nicky and Christa were looking at each other, sizing each other up, still grinning. Occasionally giggling. Having a sister was obviously a big deal for Nicky. Bigger than having a father?
He’d missed out on nine years of having a son. He looked back to Athena and she was looking as dazed as he was.
‘I wanted to tell you,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t know how.’
‘Like…the phone?’ He couldn’t keep anger from his voice and he got anger in return.
‘You think? So I should have phoned you-and your wife-and thought about the consequences later?’
A host of angry rejoinders crowded his head. None of them could be said in front of the children.
Maybe none could be said at all.
‘The reception,’ she said again flatly, moving on.
‘Seven tonight.’ That, at least, was easy. ‘The Crown Prince and Princess of Sappheiros will be welcoming home the Crown Princess of Argyros. Officially handing over control.’
‘And then what?’ He saw panic flare. ‘Nikos, I can’t do this alone. I can’t do this at all. Run this country? I have no experience. I have nothing to qualify me for such a role. I’ve taken four weeks’ leave. That’s it.’
‘If that’s it, then you’re handing the Crown to Demos.’
‘This isn’t fair.’
‘Life’s not,’ he said shortly. He had evidence of this right in front of him. He’d had a son for nine years and he hadn’t known.
She stared at him, speechless. He stared out of the window. Tried not to think that yes, it was unfair. As kids they’d planned to do this side by side. They still could if she…if he…
It had to be thought of. The lawyers had demanded he think of it.
How could he think about it?
‘You will be there tonight,’ she said urgently, and a blunt voice inside him said no, let her sink. Not telling him he had a son…
But then he looked at her, he caught the terror, and he caught something else.
The Athena he’d once loved. She was still in there.
And this island…It was his home and he loved it. He had to support her, come what may.
And he had to convince her to stay.
Enough. One step at a time.
‘I’ll be there,’ he told her.
‘With me,’ she said urgently. ‘I won’t remember names. People will know me and I won’t remember them. I’ll say the wrong thing. Nikos, you have to help me.’
‘I’ll help you.’
He hadn’t said it right. He sounded petty, angry, resentful. And she got it. Terror turned to anger again, just like that.
‘Don’t you dare.’
‘Dare what?’
‘Dum
p this on me. You talked me into this. You made me come home. I’m your responsibility, Nikos. I came home because of you.’
‘You came home because of the island.’
‘I came home because we talked ourselves into loving this island together. If you’re even thinking you need me to stay, then you need to support me every step of the way.’
‘I’ll support you tonight,’ he said.
Beyond tonight was a place he was too fearful to think about.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE castle was a time warp.
The limousine pulled up in the castle forecourt. Athena climbed out.
Argyros, circa eighteen hundred. It was almost enough to jerk her out of the emotional mess she’d just landed herself in.
It was almost enough to make her stop thinking about Nikos.
The palace was built of the stone used throughout these islands, whitewashed once but mostly faded to its original soft grey. It was two storeys high in the centre, with long single storey wings at either end. The garden was overgrown to the point of riot. Vast wisteria vines gnarled their way over the buildings like great knots on ancient gift wrapping. There were olive trees, bougainvillea, wild daisies and clumps of blue and yellow irises-a riot of colour. The palace looked half buried by garden-a fantastic wilderness.
And behind the castle was the backdrop of the sea. As a child she’d heard the palace had the best swimming beach on the island, but who knew?
She’d never been in these grounds. The castle had been protected by vast stone walls for as long as she could remember. Guard dogs were said to roam at night.
Giorgos had hardly ever come here but he’d deemed it his. What was his he held, fiercely.
‘So who does this belong to now?’ she whispered to Nikos as she stood in the forecourt, feeling stunned, feeling the warmth of the Mediterranean sun on her face, hearing the wash of the sea under the cliffs.
‘The Crown,’ Nikos said briefly. ‘That would be you. Unless you abdicate. Then it goes to Demos. He’s been staying here since Giorgos died-since he phoned you and you told him he could have it. I told him you were coming back and he had to vacate.’
She gulped. ‘I hadn’t thought…’ she whispered. ‘Demos must hate me.’
‘He hates me, too,’ Nikos said, but he touched her arm lightly, in a gesture of reassurance which was supposed to be steadying-and strangely was. ‘But we needn’t feel guilty. Somehow he wheedled his way into the King’s favour. Giorgos left him a personal fortune. Sadly for Demos, a fortune will never be enough.’
There was so much here to take in…She was fighting to understand it.
Meanwhile staff were waiting, lined up as if in some period play. The women were wearing uniforms that were grim-as-death black. The men wore black too, alleviated only by high starched collars in pristine white. In this Mediterranean paradise they looked…ridiculous.
‘You need to meet your staff,’ Nikos said, and she thought about backing into the limo and slamming the door. This was scarier than scary.
‘You’re kidding me, right? I can’t employ these people.’
‘Maybe you can’t,’ he said neutrally. ‘Giorgos kept the castle fully staffed. Demos intended to sack them and modernise the place, but now it’s your call.’
‘They can’t like working here.’ She looked again at the uniforms, at the stoical faces, at their ramrod straight posture. ‘Looking like this…’
‘Looks don’t matter,’ he said briefly. ‘Apart from a struggling fishing industry, there’s very little employment.’
Her head was starting to spin. Nikos knew this place. She didn’t. It should be Nikos in charge. But he was giving her information only, and waiting for her to act as she willed.
Waiting for her to fail? Certainly he was judging her.
Anger stirred. She could do this. She would. She was not going to fail in front of Nikos.
The staff were in two formal lines. Not a muscle was moving. They looked almost like waxworks. ‘Can I afford to pay them?’ she demanded.
‘The royal coffers are at your disposal,’ Nikos said neutrally. ‘They’re overflowing.’
‘How can they be overflowing? I though we were broke.’
‘Giorgos taxed everything. Once a year he cleaned out the Argyros accounts and moved the money to Sappheiros. It’s been nine months since they’ve been cleared, and Alexandros is shifting what funds he knows are ours back. You’ll need to start road repairs, harbour deepening, the infrastructure. You can provide employment and make this a better place to live in the process.’
‘But I’m a fashion editor,’ she said and to her horror, she heard herself beginning to wail. ‘I can’t do this!’
‘Your staff are waiting,’ Nikos said. He was holding Christa’s hand. Standing apart. ‘Set Oscar down-hold him by the leash,’ he told Nicky. ‘Your mother needs to meet the staff, and if you intend to live here then you need to meet them, too.’
‘Am I going to live here?’ Nicky gazed around in awe. ‘Cool!’
‘It is cool,’ Nikos said gravely. ‘I’m not sure if your mother thinks so.’
‘I don’t think so.’ She was fighting for control. She was taking in the crumbling façade of a once magnificent palace. The derelict gardens. Twenty people lined up to see what she would do.
‘Do I have a choice?’ she muttered.
‘No.’
‘Fine, then,’ she snapped. She was being thrown in at the deep end, like it or not. She had no choice but to swim. ‘I can be a princess if I need to.’
He smiled at that. ‘Of course you can.’
‘Okay,’ she muttered.
‘Well, then…’
‘Well, then.’ She took a deep breath. She braced her shoulders and stepped forward. She ignored the sensation of Nikos at her back, watching her. Judging her?
‘Hi,’ she said, in her best managing-the-staff voice. A voice she hadn’t quite perfected. ‘You know who I am. I probably should remember all of you but it’s been almost ten years since I’ve been on the island so you need to forgive me. You’ll also need to forgive me if I don’t get things right-the things I’m supposed to do. But three things I do know, and I might as well say them now. First, not one of you will lose your job for anything except incompetence or dishonesty. Not while I’m here. Second, your salary will stay the same until I have time to review it and even then it won’t drop. And finally…I hate your uniforms. Hate ’em. Who’s interested in giving me suggestions for change?’
She was fabulous. She was just as he’d always imagined she’d be.
She’d been here for what-twenty minutes-and the staff were already putty in her hands. Her career had her moving with some of the world’s wealthiest, most flamboyant people. She was good at her job. It showed.
He was proud of her.
How corny was that? How patronising?
He didn’t have to tell her what to do, he thought. He just had to stand back and watch. And wonder.
She’d already had volunteers to redesign the uniform. She’d already said she’d like to use first names-if that was okay? The staff were already halfway to being in love with her.
Who could blame them?
‘So remind me.’ She was at the end of the line, looking back at him. ‘The reception is at seven?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will my people have the details?’
My people. Just like that, she’d taken on the mantel of royalty. And once again she’d moved him to the sidelines.
‘Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘Your staff are putting on the reception.’
‘So I’ll see you then?’
‘Yes.’
She nodded. The eyes gazing at him were expressionless.
‘We’ll be happy to receive you, then,’ she said.
And that was that. He’d been dismissed by royalty.
His gaze met hers and held. Then, very slowly, he nodded. And smiled.
‘Until then, Your Highness,’ he said softly and
gave her a gentle, mocking salute. ‘Off you go and introduce Oscar to his new home.’
It took all the courage in the world to watch him go-not to call him back-to stop herself whimpering in terror. But this role was hers. She’d returned to the island as Crown Princess. She had to take the responsibility.
Her dream as a kid-to take on this responsibility with Nikos-was just that-a dream. He’d married someone else. He’d moved on.
Somehow, she must too.
The housekeeper-Mrs Lavros-no first names here!-gave her a cursory tour of the palace, apologising over and over. ‘There’s not been money for repairs. We’re so thankful you’re finally here. We’re so sorry we couldn’t get it how we’d like it.’ But neither Athena or Nicky-or Oscar either, for that matter-minded shabby.
‘Ooh, it’s cool,’ Nicky said, and Athena gazed in awe at the vast chandelier in the bedchamber they’d just been ushered into and had to agree. This was the King’s bedchamber, with a smaller bedroom leading off to the side. ‘The smaller room’s for the King’s valet,’ Mrs Lavros told her. ‘It’s been years since the King’s been here, but we’ve kept it aired. There’s clean linen on the beds…’
Athena was no longer listening. She was staring out of the window at the beach that had been forbidden to mere mortals since Giorgos’s ancestors had plundered this place and made it theirs.
Nicky and Oscar were already out on the terrace, scrambling through the balustrades, figuring how they could clamber down to the cliff path.
She was a princess. Did princesses…clamber?
‘Has Nikos seen this?’ she breathed. The beach was wide and golden, curving from headland to headland. The sea was glistening diamonds-fabulous, romantic.
‘I’m not sure,’ the housekeeper told her. ‘But if you please, ma’am, what will you wear tonight?’
Tonight. A royal reception. How many people? She stopped thinking about clambering.
‘Something…simple?’ she ventured.
The housekeeper’s face fell. ‘Everyone wants to meet you,’ she said. ‘We so want our own princess. Prince Alexandros and Princess Lily will be here from Sappheiros, of course, and they’re wonderful, but they’re not our ruling family. Prince Alexandros will wear his medals,’ she said wistfully. ‘Don’t you have a formal gown?’
Betrothed: To the People’s Prince Page 5
