by Mandy Baggot
‘You’ve been out with Theo Pappas?’ Jackie asked.
Abby nodded as she took a seat that faced the setting sun, the very last rays of light warming her skin. ‘We went to Logas Beach.’
‘I wanging love it there! Did you walk across the glass platform and stare down?’ Melody asked. ‘It’s like the Spinnaker Tower but with beach on the ground not concrete and fag butts.’
‘We did,’ Abby answered. ‘We had a nice meal and we talked and—’
A blast of a horn had all three of them jumping in their seats. It was Leon’s taxi, screeching to a halt, almost careering into someone carrying a steel drum. The drum hit the front bumper of the car.
‘Those musicians,’ Melody exclaimed. ‘I don’t know how good they are at playing but they seem to be bloody useless at walking in a straight line.’ She got to her feet. ‘Wait! I saw everything!’ She waved to Leon and went bounding down onto the road.
Left alone, Abby looked at her mum. There was definitely an ease about her features that hadn’t been there when she’d first landed on Corfu. Lines had been lifted, her skin was slightly less wan and her professional businesswoman clothes were back where they belonged.
‘Mum,’ Abby began. ‘I’m sorry about the raffle.’
‘Don’t be daft! It wasn’t your fault. It was Melody’s. You know what she’s like after a few too many spirits.’
‘I know but I should have kept a check on it.’
‘People have to be allowed to make mistakes sometimes. That’s how we learn.’ Jackie took a sip of her drink. ‘Melody will never make a mistake in a raffle again.’
‘I’ll sort it out,’ Abby said. ‘Somehow.’
‘What made you think of a trip to Erikousa?’ Jackie asked.
‘You said you really wanted to go there,’ Abby replied. ‘And I saw a sign for the trip in town. It looks lovely.’ She smiled. ‘And it sounded a lot better than one of Aleko’s spa days.’
‘Thank you, Abby,’ Jackie said.
Abby watched her mum take a sip of the fizzy wine, settling back into her seat, appearing more relaxed than she had seen her.
‘What for?’
‘Coming to Corfu, getting the business back on track, helping Melody and I see what’s really important.’
‘I wanted to come,’ Abby said. ‘For so many reasons.’
‘But mainly because Darrell hurt you.’
‘And I lost my job … and Poldark.’
‘What?!’ Jackie exclaimed. ‘Poldark died?! Oh, Abby, why didn’t you tell me that!’
‘He hasn’t died,’ Abby breathed. ‘He’s been catnapped by my neighbour, but it’s OK.’
‘It’s OK?!’
‘Well, I know Mr Clements is lonely and he’s there all the time and he can afford to buy Poldark the good stuff, although I’m not quite sure just how good corned beef is for a cat long term. And just as his furry butt was disappearing through the next-door window I was thinking about packing my case to come here.’
‘And now there’s Theo Pappas,’ Jackie said.
‘Mmm,’ Abby replied. She had meant to sound non-committal but instead she had nailed a just-biting-into-a-Magnum-ice-cream moan.
‘Abby, Greek men can be ever so charming but—’
‘But what?’ Abby asked, intrigued.
‘Well, it’s the holiday feel, isn’t it? It’s hot. He’s hot. You’re feeling a bit kicked in the teeth by Darrell – and rightly so, I might add. I’ve a good mind to ring him up and give him what for.’
‘Don’t, Mum,’ Abby sighed. ‘He isn’t worth it.’ And he really wasn’t. She had nipped onto Facebook earlier while she had been sitting at The Blue Vine contemplating just how close she was on her credit-card limit and there was Darrell’s status update. In a relationship with Amber Stevens. Obviously, he had managed to send the right person the crawling apology text after all. But, as she’d read the words there had been no deep, heart-numbing pain. All she had felt was disappointment. The feeling that she had wasted all that time on someone who could do that to her.
‘I like Theo,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m not starry-eyed or intoxicated by spanakopita enough to think it’s a forever feeling.’ She sighed. ‘Plus, I have to go home at some point.’
Jackie paused, putting her finger to the middle of her glasses and pushing them up her nose. ‘Do you?’
‘Mum … I … of course I do. I have the flat and—’
‘And what?’ Jackie asked.
‘And … things.’
‘Like?’
‘Well, my life didn’t completely revolve around Darrell and my job.’ She was struggling with what she was saying because even though she hated the fact, none of the lines she was delivering were ringing true.
‘You could stay,’ Jackie said. ‘You could live here, with us. We could run the business together, all of us, just like I dreamed about.’
Her mum had dreamed about her being involved with the estate agency from the beginning? She had always thought the offer to join them, when it had come, was more a case of not wanting to leave her out, knowing she would never leave England because she was all set with Darrell.
‘Did you never want to come?’ Jackie asked. ‘Really?’
‘I … didn’t really think about it. It just never seemed real, until you went and then it was too late to think about it,’ Abby admitted.
‘Oh, Abby!’
‘I know! I am the absolute opposite of every female character in Hidden Figures and I hate myself for it.’
‘Why didn’t you say something?’ Jackie asked. ‘I just presumed you were happy in England with Darrell.’
‘I thought I was,’ Abby said with a sigh. ‘No … I was, but I think, if I look back, perhaps I just wanted to stay because it was safe. I think I was too scared to leave something I knew for something I didn’t.’
And she was the only one still there to tend her dad’s grave …
Jackie nodded. ‘You’ve been that way since your dad died.’
‘Well, no, I wouldn’t say that exactly.’ Her mum had turned mind-reader.
‘I would,’ Jackie said. ‘And I should have helped you more.’ She took a long, slow breath in. ‘I was so grief-ridden I couldn’t think about anyone but myself. I let you get caught up with Darrell. I was happy for you to lean on someone else. This whole situation is my fault.’
‘Mum, that isn’t true. You did everything for us after Dad died. Everything and more.’ Abby reached for her mum’s hands, enveloping them in hers, emotion bubbling in her stomach.
‘Then I started to run away to Greece every summer, hoping to reconnect with someone I shouldn’t want to reconnect with when I was newly widowed.’
‘What?’ Abby asked, not really understanding. And then the realisation seemed to hit her. The ‘moments’ she had witnessed, the painting, the whispered remembrance of the model and make of car, the deliberate avoiding of the taverna until recently …
‘George,’ Abby said.
Jackie nodded. Her eyes immediately filling with tears.
‘Mum, George is so nice. Why are you crying?’
‘Because I was you, Abby. I fell for a Greek man when I was on holiday and he broke my heart.’
Fifty-five
Villa Pappas
Theo had dropped Spyridoula’s car off at her house and was now walking back to the villa. Under a darkening sky, the air still felt like it held more humidity than a steam room. The day had been both fun-filled and exhausting, but his overriding feeling was that he was finally beginning to reconnect with life again. And Abby. He was connecting with Abby on a level he had never connected with anyone before …
He stopped walking at the approach, noticing the garage door was slightly open. But there was no light on. Was Leon in? Was he putting the taxi in the garage? His friend had never done that before. Something about it wasn’t right. He stepped forwards cautiously, heading to the left of the property where the drive dipped down. As he neared he could hear movement
, then the crash of equipment, followed by Greek curse words. Someone was definitely in there, and it sounded like they were raiding the tools.
Theo grabbed hold of the garage door and wrenched it up and open, ready to take on whatever would-be thief was behind the corrugated metal. A shadowy figure was lurking by the Porsche. Theo grabbed at the nearest thing which happened to be a foot pump.
‘This is private property! Get out before I call the police!’
Theo threw the switch and the figure was suddenly bathed in light. The person seemed to shrink from it like he was a vampire.
‘Turn it off, Theo! I am trying to look at something with the torch!’
‘Dad?’
It was Dinis. Dressed in overalls, a cap on his head, looking every inch the mechanic he used to be when they had toiled together on the car and the motorbike.
‘Everything has changed in this garage! Nothing is where it should be. Did you do that?’
‘No … I don’t know … Dad, what are you doing here?’ Theo said.
‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ Dinis barked back. ‘I am trying to find something in the engine of this car that is making a hideous noise when it is started. It needs the torch in a specific spot, not this floodlight above my head.’
‘But—’
Dinis lifted his head out of the bonnet for a second, looking him up and down. ‘I called you earlier. When I got here. You didn’t answer.’
‘I was …’ What did he say now? That he had ignored the call? That he had been busy? Would either of those wash? Why was he still worried about what his father thought? He had severed ties.
‘You were not having a haircut, it seems,’ Dinis stated. ‘You need to fix that before you come back to the business.’
And there it was, already: the reminder that his father was still very much of the opinion he was going to come back to the business someday.
‘Why are you here?’ Theo asked for the second time. ‘To help with selling the house?’
‘I have a client I’m meeting here, and I came to see you.’ Dinis came out from under the bonnet again to look at Theo once more. ‘To stop this difficulty between us.’
‘This difficulty?’ Theo repeated.
‘A lot was said on both sides,’ Dinis continued, wiping his hands on an oily rag. ‘Things we did not mean.’
‘I meant the things I said,’ Theo responded immediately.
Dinis sighed, a little as if Theo was still a small child needing to be seen and not heard. ‘I know the accident hit us hard. Hit you hard and—’
‘Stop!’ Theo ordered. He wanted to press the flat of his hands to his ears to block out the words, but he knew that would only highlight his vulnerability, something his father would latch on to in a second.
‘Theo, the accident was not your fault. No one, not even Christopher Columbus, could have foreseen that swell or done anything else about it. The investigation said so.’
The tremor in his leg was starting, he could feel it building up and he tried his best to stand firm, channel strength. This was one of the problems. His father had never blamed him. Not once. Theo had blamed himself. What his father had done was have no understanding as to why Theo needed to do something about it. And that’s why he had had to leave.
‘The girl lost an arm, Theo! She did not die!’
Theo put a hand over his mouth then, tears of hurt, anger and frustration bursting forth. He had no control now. In his mind, he could hear the furious water, the echoes of screaming and see the blood …
‘Listen, I did not come here to go through it all again. I came here to say let’s put the past behind us. Let’s work together to move the business forward. I have a fantastic new contract coming up.’
‘She lost an arm,’ Theo repeated. ‘You think that is something you can just move past?’ Bile was in his throat now, making speech difficult.
‘She is fine,’ Dinis insisted. ‘She is adjusting.’
‘Adjusting? Dad! Don’t you hear how you sound?’ He headed back towards the garage door, needing the air, no matter how humid. There was nothing in the garage except everything he had tried to run away from.
‘Theo, this tragedy did not happen to you,’ Dinis said, following him. ‘You did not lose an arm.’
He shook his head, not wanting to hear anything else.
‘Without your quick thinking with the tourniquet she might have lost her life.’
Where was he going to go? Into the house? Dinis would just follow him in. The Blue Vine? Offer to work the last part of his shift? Clear up for free? Or drink? Just be a customer, drown how he was feeling in beer?
‘Spyridoula said you went on the boat.’
Theo stopped walking then, faced his father.
‘I did not believe her.’ Dinis shook his head. ‘Theo, I am not stupid enough to think you can ever drive a boat again.’
‘What?’ His throat was dry.
‘If you come back to the business I can find you another role. You can be Head of New Ideas or something. You can make the role your own.’
A deep anger threatened to reveal itself. Theo had always known that working for the family business might be perceived as just being because of birthright, not talent, but he also knew he was good at his job. And now his father was offering him a position that sounded meaningless and made-up.
‘I drove the boat,’ Theo said. ‘Spyridoula was telling you the truth.’
‘Your counsellor said he did not think that was possible.’
‘My counsellor told you that?! So much for patient confidentiality!’
The fear and adrenalin he had experienced chasing Igor and his friends around the harbour was swelling around him again now. He had hated it. It had frightened him. But he had done it. He had done it.
‘Well, I would be happier if you took a desk role. Like I said,’ Dinis continued. ‘The head of a department.’
‘You want me not to sail again?’ Confusion formed on his brow. ‘But I thought the counsellor was all about making me well enough to sail again.’
‘The counsellor was to make sure you did not kill yourself,’ Dinis said bluntly.
‘Dad,’ Theo said, shocked.
‘Don’t look at me that way.’
‘I don’t want to have this conversation.’
‘You never want to have this conversation.’
‘Well,’ Theo said. ‘Here I am.’ He held his arms out wide. ‘No noose around my neck. On Corfu. Working, and about to captain a boat trip to Erikousa.’
‘What?’ Dinis queried.
Suddenly the chirruping of the cicadas became the only sound as Theo realised just what he had said. Had he already thought of it earlier? As soon as the raffle prize was announced? Or later, when he was kissing Abby on Logas Beach? There was no going back now. As much as he thought he did not want to return to his father’s business, he also didn’t want to be thought of as a failure, an oddity, the man from a boating family who was scared of the sea.
‘I am taking the Pappas boat to Erikousa on a trip for one of the local businesses,’ Theo continued. ‘It seems that some people on this island still have a little faith in recovery.’ Now he knew exactly where he was going to go.
‘Theo!’ Dinis called. ‘Theo, come back!’
Fifty-six
Desperately Seeking
While Melody had gone to Kassiopi with Leon, Abby had listened to how her mum had been in love with George since she was a teenager. Jackie Malone had been holidaying in Corfu every year since she was ten and Abby had never known. Nanna and Grandad Malone had apparently adored the Greek island too and saved every spare penny they had to escape for a fortnight each summer. And one summer they had ended up in San Stefanos and a teenage Jackie had met George. Two weeks of falling in love under a cerulean sky and the pair vowed to meet up each year, no matter what resort the Malones picked to stay in. Except one year, five years after their tentative beginnings, George told her he was getting married. His parents had
paired him with someone from a good Greek family. It would help their restaurant business, there was an opportunity to open a second taverna, perhaps a third.
‘I tried to forget him,’ Jackie spoke, tears running down her face, her make-up destroyed. ‘I did forget him. I met your dad. Your lovely, lovely dad.’
‘Mum,’ Abby said, her voice choked with emotion too. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’
‘Haven’t I?’
‘No,’ Abby insisted. ‘It’s like that … that bit in Titanic, you know, at the end, when Old Rose is telling everyone about Jack, her first love. No one doubts that she loved the man she married and had children with, but love runs deep …’ Abby swallowed. ‘So I’ve read.’
‘When I decided to move here it wasn’t because of George. I thought he was still married right up until your dad wanted to come back after his operation. But then there George was, the same dark-eyed handsome George I’d gone on picnics with, danced with on the sand.’ She sniffed. ‘And I felt so guilty because when I saw him, even with your lovely dad sat right there, getting over the horrendous ordeal of the hospital, I felt something. It was like a school of lobsters were doing jazz-claws over my heart.’
‘Oh, Mum,’ Abby said, squeezing her hand. ‘You have to put an end to this.’
‘I know,’ Jackie breathed. ‘I just have to tell him that too much time has passed. That we both need to leave memories as memories and—’
‘No!’ Abby exclaimed. ‘That’s the very last thing you should do! Mum, you have to stop feeling guilty and grab life, grab George.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He wants to take you on a picnic.’
‘He does?’ Jackie asked, wide-eyed like a love-struck prom attendee.
‘He tried to ask my permission and my answer didn’t come out right because I was stressing over the raffle, but Mum, you need to have a date. Make it a proper new start, no regrets kind of date.’ Abby smiled. ‘As he’s one of the winners of the trip to Erikousa why don’t you make sure he knows to bring a picnic blanket?’
‘Oh, Abby, I don’t know how Melody’s going to feel. I’ve been so stupid. One minute George was painting our house, the next we were boycotting his restaurant. I’ve been up and down more in the past two years than Ant McPartlin.’
