The Summer of Aphrodite

by Viva Jones

  Finally the front door of number eight opened and Richard emerged, dashing towards the car park. Barry picked up his wallet and keys and made for his own car. Around the same time Ginnie appeared from number three, on her way to fetch the cake.

  ‘Happy birthday, Richard,’ she called out, before remembering herself and giving a startled cry.

  Barry stopped in his tracks.

  ‘Oh.’ Richard looked confused. ‘Thank you, how good of you to remember.’

  ‘Is it your birthday, Richard?’ Barry asked, hoping to cover up for her mistake. ‘Many happy returns.’ He shot Ginnie a withering look.

  ‘It’s not a big deal,’ Richard told him, opening the car door and indicating he was in a rush. When he’d driven safely off, Barry turned to Ginnie.

  ‘Mistakes like that could ruin the whole operation,’ he told her sternly.

  ‘I know, Barry, I’m sorry, it’s early and I’ve just got so much going on, I wasn’t thinking.’

  Barry humphed and got in his car. Careless talk, he muttered to himself as he crunched into first gear.

  He drove to his preferred bakery and bought several different breads - French baguettes, some brown loaves, a few rolls and some flat, Arabic style bread. That should feed everyone. He mustn’t forget to put out the olives and crisps, and the cheesy sticks he’d made the day before. And then there was his rendez-vous with Anna at nine-thirty, once the cleaner had finished going over the place, to fill number two’s bath with cold water and beer cans. Everything was going to plan, he told himself cheerily. There was nothing Barry enjoyed better than organising other people.

  Later, he found Anna inside number two with the cleaning woman, Mrs Stylianou, from the village. The floors had been swept and the beds changed, and she had just started on the bathroom. Barry retrieved the beers he’d been storing - 30 six-packs, as if they’d ever get through that much! - and started carrying them between the houses. Anna kept looking at her watch and willing Mrs Stylianou to hurry up.

  ‘Richard got off all right this morning, did he? Only I noticed he was a bit late.’

  Anna ignored him. ‘Where’s Ginnie, is she getting the cake?’

  ‘Oh yes, I saw her, and she nearly gave the game away, she did.’ Barry explained what had happened.

  ‘The trouble is,’ Anna mused, ‘that Richard genuinely seems to want a quiet day. No fuss. I hope I’m not making a dreadful mistake.’

  ‘With all his old friends coming over? No, of course not, he’ll be delighted,’ Barry insisted. But she did look worried, he noticed. Then again, she was fed up with having her mother around, that was what was getting to her. No, they were going to have a super day. And with organisation like this, how could anything go wrong?

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Nathalie looked out of the bathroom window to see Barry carrying boxes of lager over to number two, and Anna waving goodbye to Mrs Stylianou. She hadn’t slept well. She felt heavy and ill at ease, and even her morning swim hadn’t lightened her mood. She made herself some herbal tea and went out to her terrace, where she sat cross-legged on her yoga mat. Something was wrong, but what? It was as if there was a message trying to get to her, but that it was unable to make itself heard above the fuzz of every day life. Nathalie did not want to be psychic, she told herself. She wanted nothing to do with it. Then she heard a giggle, and there was the little boy, running playfully between her plant pots.

  She breathed deeply, inhaling an infusion of lavender, geranium and palma rosa as she tried to clear her mind. It took a few minutes and then suddenly she felt as if she was falling into a pit, dark and bottomless, where all her fears and sorrows and problems were manifesting themselves around her, like faceless shadows trying to reach out and grab a piece of her. Her first instinct was to resist, to struggle and wake herself up, but Nathalie understood that she had to make herself experience this fully.

  And strangely, the experience wasn’t as terrifying as it might have been. It was as if, by facing up to her demons, Nathalie was reducing their potency. They could no longer get to her, and as she carried on falling, so they grew smaller and less significant, until they disappeared completely. Then she realised that she’d grown used to the falling sensation, and was at ease with it, allowing herself to go wherever it was the powers wanted her to be. Gradually, ahead of her came a light, and with that light came an overwhelming sense of contentment. She bathed in it, drank it all in, and felt renewed by it.

  And then her journey ended, and Nathalie was left to puzzle it over.

  She sat still for a few moments before rousing herself and taking her tea cup back to the kitchen. Your fears are never as bad as you think, was that what this was telling her? Instead of living with them, or trying to ignore them, you should confront and overcome them.

  Rinsing the mug in the sink, Nathalie looked out of the window and saw a hired people carrier arriving. She watched as Anna rushed up to greet the three couples who climbed out. She saw them embrace and laugh and give each other pecks on the cheeks and do all the things that old friends do, and she thought of Richard. Whatever had happened during his stag weekend, these were the men involved. She watched them taking in their new surroundings, and couldn’t help but wonder if something might still go dreadfully, dreadfully wrong.

  ***

  Reluctantly, Tanya drove back to Fig Tree Villas from the airport. She hadn’t realised how much she could miss a person after just a few hours. If only Marinos had come with her as the new owner of Adonis. All these things she had to do now - listen to speeches, chat happily with her clients, avoid Mr. Makhtabi and applaud her bosses whenever they said anything - they all felt so tedious when she knew she could be out shopping or eating in some smart restaurant or making love with Marinos in that gorgeous flat of his.

  Once at home, she had a quick shower and changed into a floral dress and some high sandals, carefully applying her make up. She’d come back armed with all the latest magazines, as it was important to follow all the trends and look good at all times. She wished he’d given her some jewellery, a bracelet or necklace that she could wear today, so that she’d feel closer to him. She put on her new sunglasses and tried to ruffle her hair like Kate Moss’s. She looked famous, Tanya thought excitedly. Her life was changing faster than she’d ever dreamt possible.

  Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she went to find Ginnie. ‘Are you nearly ready?’ she asked. ‘Only I’ve got to get there early, basically, to check that everything’s all right.’

  ‘Oh, um, change of plan,’ Ginnie hissed through the front door, still not dressed. ‘You go on without me, I’ve got a date.’

  ‘The bloke from the radio? I’d completely forgotten.’

  Ginnie let her in. She was wearing only her underwear and had wrapped a towel around herself. ‘His name’s Demetrius. I rang him like I said I would, and he accepted. So where have you been, anyway?’

  ‘London,’ Tanya told her excitedly. ‘With a man.’ Then she remembered and gasped. ‘But if my boss is around make sure you ask after my mum, because I told him she was sick, all right?’

  They giggled and Tanya left for the Odyssey Villas complex. Ginnie returned to her dress, held her breath and slipped it on. The zip went up easily. She admired herself in the mirror, checking her posture and that her stomach didn’t stick out and that her arms weren’t flabby, and then carefully did her hair and make up. Demetrius would be picking her up in ten minutes, she thought excitedly. She had to look her best.

  ***

  Douglas free-wheeled his way back to Fig Tree Villas after an extra-long ride. No matter that he’d kept Barry waiting, he told himself, today had been stunning, and he’d excelled even his own expectations. But of course, it was the feast of Aphrodite, so why shouldn’t he be feeling powerful? This was the time of year when the Goddess of love and sensuality wove her magic spells as
intricately as the golden filigree of her girdle. There was love and lust in the air, not to mention a veritable feast being prepared in Barry’s kitchen.

  Douglas had done all he could by now; tonight he just had to sit back and watch the others play out the roles he’d cast for them. He felt like an emperor, a king, a ruler whose subjects were to obey his every whim. Parking his bike, he looked up at Nathalie’s window. Nathalie, the Goddess, she who’d arrived on the most auspicious date in the calendar, she with the huge eyes, that light-up-your-life smile, the unruffled disposition - tonight, if Douglas had his way, Nathalie would be his.

  ‘You’re late,’ said a reproachful Barry.

  ‘It’s a beautiful day.’ Douglas beamed back at him.

  ‘I’ll keep the lamb in my fridge,’ Barry said, thrusting two large platters at him. ‘You can have the chicken.’

  Douglas found room for the chicken in his fridge, then went upstairs and showered. God, he felt good. Today, he could have anything he desired.

  And what he desired, more than anything, more than the delicious Svetlana herself, was Nathalie.

  ***

  Demetrius was five minutes late. Ginnie kept looking from her watch to the window, to her watch again. To break the monotony she checked her phones, to see that she hadn’t been cut off or misplaced the receiver. Her stomach was fluttering inside. What if he didn’t come? What if he was standing her up? As the minutes passed, Ginnie’s mood turned from excitement to depression. She inhaled some of Nathalie’s potion, dabbing a bit behind her ears. It was still an important day, she told herself. She’d just have to go to the party by herself.

  Harold the tom tried to jump on her lap, and Ginnie shooed him away. She couldn’t have him clawing at the material of her dress. But the little kick she gave him on his way down was unnecessary, and she regretted it instantly. She paused to stroke the forgiving cat, fighting back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

  Demetrius was now ten minutes late. Ginnie went to check on the cake in the fridge. It was a chocolate cake, with thick swirls of cream round the edges and the words ‘Happy 40th Richard’ piped in the middle. Just the sight of it depressed her. How she’d been looking forward to bringing Demetrius back with her to the party, to showing all the residents that she was capable of getting a man. And now what? She was just sad old desperate Ginnie, all over again.

  Her phone rang. Ginnie’s heart leapt into her mouth and she raced to answer it.

  ‘Ginnie, Barry here quickly. Did you pick up any ice?’

  ‘No, Barry, you said not to.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. Just checking, thank you.’

  Ginnie flung the receiver down. Her eyes started watering again and before she could stop herself, tears flowed down her cheeks. No! She couldn’t cry now, not with all her make up on! Then she remembered how she’d been crying when they met, and that just made her cry all the more. She raced to the bathroom, looked at her blotchy face in horror, and began to reapply her make up. She made up her mind then. She would leave the house and drive to the party alone. It was still her big day, even if Demetrius couldn’t be bothered to be there for it. She would still go, and she’d hold her head up high. She was doing this for the cats, she told herself, guiltily remembering the kick she’d given Harold.

  Unlocking her car door, Ginnie let out a huge sigh. Suddenly it was for real - she was going alone. She’d thought he was different. She climbed in and started up the engine and was pulling out of her parking space when she heard a car driving at great speed towards her. She didn’t recognise it, but, yes, sure enough, there he was inside, Demetrius, waving through his window at her.

  ‘I’m so sorry!’ he called out apologetically as he pulled up beside her. ‘I took a wrong turning and then couldn’t turn round again for a long way, and I forgot to plug my phone in last night so the battery’s flat.’

  Ginnie’s heart soared. She re-parked her car and went to join him, planting a delighted kiss on his cheek.

  ‘Wow, you look incredible, you know that?’ he told her admiringly. ‘That colour just brings out the blue in your eyes, and you smell delicious. You know it’s Aphrodite’s feast today, isn’t it? Well, you look like a goddess to me.’

  Chapter Forty

  ‘Tanya, you look a million dollars!’ Yannakis told her admiringly. Then he added, somewhat self-consciously, ‘this is my wife, Maria.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Tanya told her, holding out her hand.

  ‘How’s your mum?’ he asked.

  ‘Much better, thank you,’ Tanya said as naturally as possible. ‘It was a minor stroke, more of a warning, basically, so now she’s got to think seriously about her cholesterol intake and whatnot.’ Fortunately, one of her magazines had run an article on strokes in their health section, so Tanya had been able to gen up on the subject on the plane back.

  They were standing in the garden surrounding the show house at Odyssey Villas, which had been transformed into an elegant pavilion full of floral displays, marble statuettes and white balloons. Uniformed waiters and waitresses offered the mingling guests champagne, mineral water or orange juice, as well as delicate canapés and finger snacks. At some point in the proceedings there was to be a brief speech by the CEO and then the ceremonial first foundation stone would be laid in the neighbouring house. Between them, Tanya and Yannakis had now sold two thirds of the units, exceeding their targets, and were well on their way to selling the rest before the year end. Tanya could rightly feel proud of herself, she kept thinking. She had a good job, a great man, and another party to go to afterwards. Tanya Hopkins was a success!

  ‘Tanya, my dear,’ said a voice from behind her that made her flesh creep. She turned to see Mr Makhtabi, a glass of champagne in his hand.

  ‘Mr Makhtabi, what a pleasure,’ she said brightly. ‘You know my boss, Yannakis, don’t you?’ As they shook hands and Yannakis began the small talk, Tanya excused herself to check on the guest-list. The party had been organised by staff at head office, so all she’d had to do was give them contact details, but still she felt she should see who was attending or not. On the list she stared quietly at the name Marinos Kiriakos and the careless tick someone had marked in the ‘No’ box. If only he were there, Tanya thought. If only they could spend every day together from now on.

  She chatted briefly to the Dietmars, and to a Swedish family who’d bought Athena, and then turned round in time to see Ginnie arriving, with a handsome Cypriot carrying some recording equipment by her side.

  ‘You’re late!’ Tanya teased.

  ‘My fault, I’m Demetrius,’ the man said, shaking Tanya’s hand, before excusing himself to interview an Odyssey spokesman.

  ‘There’s Nigel and Trisha, over there, they own Tiggles,’ Ginnie pointed out, reaching for an orange juice. She’d have loved a glass of champagne but didn’t trust herself. Today was too important, and certainly not the day to take up drinking again. ‘Come and meet them.’

  Ginnie ushered Tanya across the marquee to meet the couple. After a conversation that struck Tanya as awfully stilted for people who worked together all the time, she found herself briefly alone in the mingle. Then that voice, and that smell of aftershave, emerged beside her.

  ‘Tanya, my dear, you look spectacular,’ Mr Makhtabi said.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said with a fake smile. ‘How’s your family, then? Are they here?’

  ‘No, dear, they are in London. I came to Cyprus alone. I have been trying to contact you but they said you were in England, with your sick mother?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Tanya told him, willing the speeches to start.

  ‘And she is better?’

  ‘Yes, she is, thanks.’

  ‘And your mobile, it was never on. I left messages, didn’t you get them?’

  ‘I’m sorry, yes I did, but basically, as I’m sure y
ou can imagine, it was a difficult time.’

  The thought of that man, that body, naked, on top of and inside her own, now revolted Tanya to the extent that she thought she might be sick.

  ‘And after the party, what are your plans?’

  ‘Mr Makhtabi, I’m afraid I’ve got other arrangements today. It’s a busy time of year, basically, everyone seems to arrange things on Aphrodite’s day.’

  ‘And I, too, had hoped to arrange things, on my yacht. I have the finest champagne, I have oysters, caviar, they all wait for you, my dear, to make my day complete.’

  ‘I can’t, Mr Makhtabi. Not today. Or ever again, for that matter. I’m sorry.’

  He looked confused. ‘Never again?’

  She shook her head. ‘My life’s changed. I shouldn’t have in the first place, you know. At the end of the day, you are married.’

  He laughed as if this was of minor significance. Then he leant closer, and she could smell the smoked salmon on his breath. ‘I have a gift for you, a valuable treasure. If you come with me, just one last time, it will be yours.’

  For a second Tanya was tempted, but then she remembered Marinos. He was her future. She couldn’t jeopardise that.

  She shook her head again. ‘No, thank you Mr Makhtabi. I really can’t.’

  She turned and walked to the ladies’ room, where she promptly threw up.

  ***

  Barry was watching out of his window for Richard’s arrival. The timing was of vital importance by now, but there was nothing more he could do until Richard was safely upstairs and being distracted by his wife.