by Emma Nichols
Nikki nodded, her eyes sparkling, her smile full with satisfaction. ‘All good,’ she said.
‘Good,’ he said, handing her a beer and sipping the clear liquid in his short glass.
‘How’ve things been?’ she asked, her eyes indicating to the white house.
Manos’ cheeks twitched, his head tilted, squinting in the direction of the hill. ‘Up and down,’ he said, with faint amusement and then fleeting unease.
Nikki nodded and slugged hungrily at the chilled drink. ‘Renovations coming along I see,’ she said, assessing the newly painted, Mediterranean-blue shutters with an approving smile.
‘Aye. Ariana painted those,’ he said.
‘Look good from here,’ she said, with a warm feeling in her chest.
‘Look pretty good from up there too,’ he added, sipping from his glass. ‘It’s good to have you back,’ he added, his eyes lingering on the white house.
‘It’s good to be home, Pops,’ she said, softly. Words couldn’t describe how good.
‘The ones I removed are in the workshop,’ he said, back to the topic of the shutters.
‘And the walls?’ she asked.
‘Repaired and whitewashed the south facing wall,’ he replied, with a proud grin.
‘Hmmm, you’ve been busy,’ she said, her head nodding in approval.
‘You hungry?’ he asked.
‘Starving,’ she replied. ‘I’ll just dump this and change,’ she said, heading to the bar.
‘There’s kleftiko on the stove, I’ll bring some out,’ he said, heading into the kitchen.
‘Thanks.’ Nikki dropped the empty beer bottle on the bar, stepped through the back and into her apartment, and leant against the closed door, the butterflies in her stomach intensifying with thoughts of seeing Ariana. She breathed in the familiar air. It was so good to be home.
*
‘Hey,’ Soph said, her feet dangling over the edge of the cliff, her thumb softly strumming the guitar, aware that Gianna was approaching from behind. She turned towards the gentle footsteps; the loving smile stripped from her face at the solemn look on Gianna’s face. ‘What’s up?’ she asked, standing urgently, staring into Gianna’s grief-stricken eyes. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked, her voice more insistent, desperation causing her heart to pound. She put the guitar down and rushed towards Gianna, pulling her into her arms. ‘What’s happened G?’ she asked softly. Gianna’s limp body hung in her arms; sobs falling from her lips, tears streaming down her face.
‘We’re leaving,’ Gianna stammered, barely able to breathe through the convulsions that were taking over her body. She had screamed and screamed at her parents, and now she had nothing left. Just an empty, hollow feeling, cast over her like a dark shadow.
‘What!’ Soph pulled back sharply, staring into Gianna’s wet eyes in disbelief. ‘What do you mean, you’re leaving?’ she asked, fighting the burning sensation building in her eyes.
‘You’re selling so we’re leaving. Papa’s going to work in Lefkada at the end of the month,’ Gianna stuttered, through the sobs.
Soph tensed, inflamed with rage. ‘Fuck,’ she yelled, startling Gianna into silence.
Gianna stared quizzically. She hadn’t heard Soph swear before. She hadn’t seen Soph angry before, at least not like this. She studied Soph’s thunderous gaze, her dark-blue eyes closer to black, the tears seeping onto her cheeks, the frustration driving her to pace back and forth.
‘I’ll go with you,’ Soph said, with absolute determination. ‘We can get a place together,’ she added, without consideration as to how that might happen.
Gianna spoke softly. ‘I don’t have any money,’ she said, ‘or a job.’
‘We’ll get one; we’ll make it work,’ Soph countered, her enthusiasm unwavering. ‘I’ll get work and we’ll find the money somehow,’ she added, a half-plan formulating in her mind as she paced.
Gianna was shaking her head. ‘I don’t want to leave here,’ she admitted.
Soph stopped pacing and studied Gianna. She suddenly looked so much younger than her nineteen years, so vulnerable, so exposed. Soph stared out to sea, then to the east-cove where they had dived and swum together. Shifting around to the west-cove where they had played volleyball and eaten at the taverna, and then to the far side of the cove, the cliff where Gianna had freaked her out. To the rocks below her feet now, where she met Nikki on that first night, fishing. She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. She didn’t want to leave either. Why did they need to sell? ‘I don’t want to leave either,’ she admitted. She turned and strode purposefully towards the house.
*
Ariana jumped at the screaming noise, unable to make out the words, but sure Soph was behind the sound that seemed to emanate from the top of the cliff, beyond the rose garden. She pulled herself to stand, her woozy head causing her balance to falter, picked up the half-empty bottle and empty glass and staggered quickly up the slope. Reaching the top, Soph bounding towards her, she stopped. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, Soph’s dark eyes assaulting her, causing her to flinch.
‘We can’t sell,’ Soph blurted, barely stopping before she reached Ariana, encroaching on her personal space as she spat the words out. Gianna stood a pace behind Soph, her eyes red with tears.
‘I…’ Ariana paused with no idea what she might say to her daughter. ‘I…’ she tried again, but nothing, just her head spinning.
‘I’m not leaving here,’ Soph insisted, her body tense with frustrated determination.
The sound of tentative footsteps on the sandy path and the clearing of a throat caught their attention, and both women turned to face the little man in the collar and tie, still hugging his briefcase close to his chest. ‘Hmm, could I take a look around the gardens?’ he asked, his voice full of trepidation.
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
Ariana and Soph said, simultaneously.
The man looked from one woman to the other, his brows furrowed, his lips pinned together, and a trickle of sweat sliding nervously down his temple.
The crunching of grit drew their attention, and all eyes shifted in the direction of the path leading up to the house from the west-cove.
‘Hi,’ Nikki said approaching the group, her broad grin disappearing at the sight of the pained expressions on the faces glaring back at her.
‘Go,’ Ariana barked, indicating for the man to continue his appraisal, releasing a long breath as he disappeared from view, her eyes avoiding Nikki’s questioning gaze.
Soph ran towards Nikki and threw herself into her strong arms. Nikki stumbled back at the ferocity behind the move. ‘Whoa, what’s up?’ she asked, alarmed.
‘I don’t want to leave here,’ Soph said, crying into Nikki’s shoulder. Gianna stood behind Ariana tears spilling from her eyes.
‘Whoa,’ Nikki repeated, her eyes fixed on Ariana’s. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, acutely aware that there was a half-suited man, with a briefcase who appeared to be assessing the grounds, two women in tears and Ariana obviously in denial carrying a bottle of wine and an empty glass. It would have been comical had it not been for the consequences. ‘Ariana?’ she questioned, with more assertiveness.
Ariana’s eyes refused to settle on Nikki’s. Her bottom lip was quivering, and she bit down firmly to create pain of a different sort. She had no answers; the walls were crumbling before her eyes, and she didn’t know how to think let alone answer Nikki’s questions.
‘Ariana!’ Nikki said, more forcefully, glaring, trying to wake her from the hopeless trance she appeared locked into.
Ariana forced herself to look straight at Nikki, her stomach dropping at the worried expression on Nikki’s face. ‘Can I speak with you?’ she said, her voice barely audible.
Nikki released Soph and wiped the tears from her face. Holding her gaze with sincerity and affection, cupping her cheeks, ‘It’ll be alright,’ she said. ‘Let me talk to your mum.’ Nikki was nodding her head as she spoke and Soph mirrored the movement,
sniffling.
Gianna stepped up, took Soph’s hand and led her towards the path to the west-cove.
Nikki stared at an evasive-looking Ariana, looking confused.
The man cleared his throat again, drawing two pairs of eyes. ‘I’ll be off then,’ he said. ‘Everything seems to be in order here,’ he added, not that anyone cared. He scampered down the slope to the east-cove to board the boat that had brought him to the island from Lefkada.
Nikki continued to glare, shoulders raised, palms begging, seeking an explanation, demanding answers.
Ariana stumbled into the house her shoulders slumped, feeling nothing, numbness having stolen her mind and her body. She dumped the half-empty bottle of warm wine on the drainer, pulled a chilled bottle from the fridge and two clean glasses, and wandered out onto the balcony.
Nikki followed her, fighting the rage that threatened her sanity. She needed to tell Ariana about her offer to buy the house, but something in Ariana’s posture felt distant, dark, and ominous, as if anything she offered now would be too late. Ariana looked at her vacantly, hopelessly, resigned to a fate that she didn’t want, and it reminded Nikki of twenty-years ago when Ariana had held the same desperate and helpless look. Nikki wanted to shake her out of it. She wanted to scream at Ariana, but she couldn’t get past her heart pounding in her throat, blocking the words.
Ariana’s weak smile met Nikki’s stern gaze. Slowly, she opened the bottle and poured the wine. Standing the bottle on the table, she picked up her glass and walked to the walled edge, her eyes locked onto the bustling taverna. ‘He just showed up without warning,’ she said, knowing the information was of little value.
Nikki stood, waiting, her blood slowly coming to the boil.
‘He’s from the property development company who bought the estate,’ Ariana continued.
Nikki flinched, and her heart stopped. Bought. Property development. The words ricocheted around her mind, her heart unwilling to allow them to settle. She couldn’t even think of any words to challenge Ariana.
‘I sold before I arrived,’ Ariana added. Her tone matter-of-fact, her body still numb, her eyes still on the taverna.
Nikki repeatedly blinked, her hands clasping at her head, ruffling her hair, her palms squeezing her temples.
‘Today was just a cursory visit. I signed the paperwork months ago,’ Ariana continued, her tone flatter.
Nikki was shaking her head, confusion and questions warring. ‘Why?’ she asked, reality starting to filter through her mind, her heart splintering and the tiny shards like teardrops, falling. She felt as if her heart was breaking all over again, only this time it was even more excruciating and painful. The embarrassment of even thinking she could try and buy the place was nothing compared to the sense of betrayal Ariana had inflicted on her. ‘Why?’ she repeated, her jaw clenched, her tone shifting to something more menacing. Anger had a hold on her.
Ariana turned slowly. Her heart stopped at Nikki’s ghost-like appearance. The intensity of Nikki’s glare floored her, ripped through her, caused her to feel again. ‘I…’ she stammered, the rush of sadness gripping her words and stopping them from airing. Her eyes fixed on Nikki; she wanted to run to her, hold her, be held by her. Tears seeped down her cheeks, her eyes never wavering from Nikki’s shaking head. Shame flamed up her spine and coloured her cheeks, making it hard for her to find her voice.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Nikki demanded.
Ariana floundered. The question was a reasonable one, under normal circumstances. But these weren’t normal circumstances at all.
She had agreed to sell the house at her mother’s request on the basis that the development company would pay a lot more than the estate was worth. Ariana would be set for life and without a husband to provide for her - even though the one she had lost everything they had ever owned - it was in Ariana’s best interests. Her mother’s words hurt, like lightning striking and burning the tree from the inside out and gutting it. It had always been about the money. Ariana hadn’t even questioned her mother’s intent, believing Teresa when she said how much the island would benefit from the tourism. Teresa hadn’t said how much the island would lose for the privilege. Ariana hadn’t known then what she had come to discover since, the photographs, the engagement, and then the timing of Teresa’s marriage, and her own birth.
‘I didn’t know,’ Ariana said, the words answering to the distracting thoughts of Manos that had consumed her day.
Nikki frowned. ‘Didn’t know,’ she spat. ‘You signed the contract,’ she shouted, stunning Ariana out of the trance.
‘I think Manos is my father,’ she said, softly.
Nikki winced, her frown deepened, and her lips stopped moving, leaving her mouth agape.
‘I didn’t know,’ Ariana said again, shaking her head back and forth. ‘That’s why Teresa encouraged me to sell to the development company.’
Nikki pressed her palms to her temples. This wasn’t making any sense, and the rage had stopped her mind from working correctly. She didn’t understand, and the information hitting her ears didn’t fit with anything her brain could compute. ‘I don’t get it.’ Nikki said.
‘The plan is to build a large hotel complex, marina, swimming pools, tennis courts, and a restaurant. They’ve agreed 1.5 million Euros for the estate, including the production plant.’ Ariana said, with detachment.
Nikki swallowed hard. The sting of the details punctured her lungs, leaving her breathless, and she slumped into the chair, defeated. She would never have been able to compete with that sort of money.
‘Mother insisted selling was best for me, and for the island,’ Ariana started.
Nikki looked up; her eyes as dark as steel, her face taut. ‘Ariana, Teresa has only ever done what is best for her,’ she said, each word punctuated to control the anger that persisted.
Ariana nodded sheepishly. ‘I know that now,’ she said, her voice broken. She slumped into the chair opposite Nikki, her elbows on the table her head in her hands.
Nikki stood, turned into the kitchen, and headed out the door.
The painful silence and increasing distance between them carved a hole so deep, dark and cold, Ariana couldn’t breathe. She collapsed her head onto the table and sobbed.
17.
Nikki stormed out of the house and up the path, her ears ringing with her incoherent thoughts, fire driving her legs with purpose. She needed to be as far away from the white house as possible - as far away from Ariana as possible. Ignoring the route down to the beach, she continued inland, taking the path around the back of the taverna and out to the top of the cliff on the west-cove.
She slumped to the ground, her fingers scraping desperately, aimlessly, at the loose dirt. She threw a handful of stones into space in front of her, her eyes tracking the scattergun effect as the pebbles broke the surface of the water below. She wiped at the burning salt irritating her eyes, which did nothing to release the tension in her head.
The past playing out in her mind, searching for the signs, her heart ached with the added weight. The markers were there of course when she really looked. Manos had always treated Ariana as if she were his own, the way he smiled at her, attended to her needs, nurtured her in the absence of Teresa. She shook her head back and forth, plucked another handful of grit and threw it out into space, watched it forming a pattern, albeit briefly, on the water before attending back to her thoughts. She didn’t understand why Manos hadn’t said anything to her, or to Ariana? Why had he allowed Teresa to take Ariana away in the first place? He had been like a father to her when she had been a child and then a business partner with the wisdom of a thousand lives, over the later years. Why hadn’t he trusted her enough to say something? She pressed the heel of her hands into her eyes, rested her elbows on her raised knees, and considered how she felt. It seemed strange to think of Ariana as Manos’ daughter. That also made Soph his granddaughter. She released a long breath, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, she missed her p
arents.
She sat, staring at the sun’s descent into the deep-blue horizon, taking the light to another place. She wondered, briefly, what that place might be like. She closed her eyes, tired from the strain, and lay back on the ground, the scent of pine and dry earth, and the constant chatter of the cicadas and the hush of the waves for company. They were good company too; they would never break her heart, that’s what people did, not nature.
When she opened her eyes to the darkness of the night, a full moon, surrounded by thousands of flickering lights showered the cliff. She stood slowly, brushed the dust from her t-shirt and shorts and meandered down the steep track to the beach. She crossed the sand, grabbed the ouzo from the freezer, a glass, and her fishing gear and headed out to the rocks beneath the white house.
*
Ariana tossed and turned, eventually climbing out of bed and heading up to the kitchen. She filled a glass of water and slurped it hungrily, her head beginning to thump. She grabbed the pills from the cupboard and took two with another glass of water.
The oppressive feeling hadn’t lifted and whichever way she turned, the future loomed menacingly. She had known before the development agency man had shown up that she didn’t want to leave the island, didn’t want to leave Nikki or the house. She had known, but her hands were tied. She pondered the stuck, trapped feeling that was so familiar and disconcerting. That sense of knowing what she wanted but thinking it was impossible to achieve. She’d had the same feeling twenty years ago. Aarrgghh! The silent scream reverberated around her head, but a sudden surge of inner strength and the swelling of her heart, overpowered and silenced the voice. She stood momentarily adjusting.
Compelled by the hazy light, visible through the window over the kitchen-sink, she stepped out of the house and around to the rose garden. The sweet scent hung in the warm night air, and she breathed deeply, lowering herself to the coarse grass. Some might think her behaviour strange; she found it mildly fascinating as she started talking to Sophia as if she were present.
Entranced by the soothing aroma, comforted by the soft-white haze she closed her eyes. Nikki’s stern glare and abject disbelief diffused in her mind’s eye, the image replaced by Nikki’s light-hazel eyes, darker at the outer circles of her irises, holding Ariana intently, intimately. Nikki’s soft lips brushing tenderly across her own, creating wave after wave of tingling shocks through her body, exciting her, obsessing her. Drifting, she could feel Nikki’s fingers, delicately tracing down her jawline, sparking the tiny hairs on neck; tracking her collarbone down to the top of her breasts, gently, tantalisingly, discovering every part of her supple skin, her nipples rising at the sensation. She gasped, groaned, yearned for more. Opening her eyes, her heart racing, the urge to run down to Nikki’s apartment, wake her and make love to her shocked her into a child-like grin. She clasped her knees to her chest, hugging tightly, rocking back and forth, her confidence growing. Tomorrow, she would tell Nikki she was in love with her.
