by Anne Fraser
In the end it was one of the most peaceful and relaxing hours Katherine could remember spending for a long time. With Crystal’s grandmother coaxing her along, while keeping a watchful eye on what she was doing, Katherine stuffed vine leaves and baked rich syrupy cakes. Every now and again the old woman would cluck her tongue and shake her head. At other times she’d nod, murmur something in Greek, and smile approvingly.
When dinner had been prepared to her satisfaction, and Alexander and Crystal still hadn’t returned, Yia-Yia took her hand and led her outside to a bench in the garden. For the next ten minutes they sat in peaceful silence as the sun sank in the sky.
After a little while Yia-Yia gestured that they should go back inside. By the time Alexander and Crystal returned, a spread that could have fed eight had been laid out on the dining-room table.
Alexander’s dark eyes swept over Katherine and he grinned, making her heart skip a beat. ‘Somehow I never quite saw you as being domesticated,’ he said.
Catching sight of her reflection in the large mirror on the wall, Katherine realised she was still wearing the flowery apron Grandmother had insisted she put on. Added to her bare feet and splotchy nail polish, she must look ridiculous. Her hair was a mess and clinging to her flushed cheeks. And was that a smudge of flour? Liking to appear neat and tidy at all times, tailored dresses with tights and decent shoes or smart trousers and blouses were what she usually wore. Two weeks in Greece and her colleagues would hardly recognise her. She barely recognised herself.
But, oddly, she rather liked the look of the woman in the mirror.
* * *
She seemed different from the last time he’d seen her, Alexander thought, studying Katherine from the corner of his eye. But if possible she was even more beautiful. Her blonde hair, bleached white-gold from the sun, had come loose from her plait and damp tendrils curled around her cheeks. A tiny wisp of hair clung to the corner of her mouth and he curled his hands inside the pockets of his jeans to stop himself from reaching out to tug it away. His grandmother’s apron and the smudge of flour on her nose only added, somehow, to her allure. But those feet! As he’d said, it looked as if someone had bludgeoned her toes with a hammer.
It had been Yia-Yia and Crystal’s idea to invite her for dinner. He’d tried to dissuade them, but his grandmother had insisted that not to, after Katherine had helped him, was not the Greek way. He’d had no choice but to agree. And, whatever he’d told himself, he was glad that she was here.
There was something about Katherine that drew him and despite everything he’d told himself he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. Her blue eyes were the colour of the sea at its deepest—more so when sadness overtook her. Was it only the loss of her mother that was causing that look in her eyes? She intrigued him. One minute she’d be the cool professional, like when they’d helped the young man who’d collapsed, the next she’d be blushing at something he’d said or refusing to hold his gaze, ill at ease in his company. And then over dinner she’d seemed to relax. At least until he’d asked her about her private life.
When Helen had found out they’d met and she’d sutured Alexander’s hand and they’d spent the day together, her curiosity had known no bounds. That Katherine was also doctor tickled her.
‘Perhaps she’s like you,’ she’d said. ‘Maybe she has lost her lover and is here to mend her broken heart.’ Helen liked to spin stories, usually romantic ones, about people. ‘Yes, it has to be a broken love affair, I’m sure of it.’ She’d slid him a mischievous look. ‘Perhaps together you can mend your broken hearts.’
Despite himself, he’d laughed. ‘You know I’m not interested in getting married again.’
‘It’s been two years, Alexander. A man like you isn’t meant to be on his own. Grandmother won’t be around for ever. I have my own life in Athens and as much as I love you both, I can’t keep making trips down here every weekend, especially when it means leaving Nico on his own. And once we get married...’ She shrugged. ‘I won’t be able to come so often. Crystal needs a mother. Someone who can be there for her all the time.’
‘Crystal has me,’ he’d replied tersely. ‘No one can ever take Sophia’s place.’
Helen was instantly contrite. ‘Of course not.’ Then she’d smiled again. It was hard for his cousin to stay serious for long. ‘Anyway, who’s saying anything about marriage?’
Typical Greek women. Always trying to matchmake.
‘She is good at cooking,’ his grandmother said to him in Greek, drawing him back to the present. ‘For an Englishwoman. But she is too skinny. She should eat more.’
He grinned at the older woman. If she had her way they’d all eventually have to join a slimming club. ‘I think she looks fine.’
‘At least she dresses like a good Greek woman. No shorts up to her bottom like your cousin.’
Under the apron, Katherine was wearing a pair of light cotton trousers and a white blouse, neatly buttoned almost to the neck. No wonder his grandmother approved.
Katherine was looking at him enquiringly and he realised they had been speaking in Greek and excluding her.
‘My grandmother says you are a good cook.’
‘It’s been fun—and informative,’ Katherine admitted with a wry smile.
‘But why does she seem so sad?’ his grandmother continued. ‘What does she have to be sad about? She is here in Greece, working in my kitchen, making food, and about to eat a fine meal.’
‘Her mother died not so long ago,’ he replied.
His grandmother’s face softened in distress. She pulled Katherine into her arms and patted her on the back. ‘Poor girl,’ she said. A bewildered Katherine stared at him over her shoulder and he had to fight not to laugh.
He sobered. ‘I told my grandmother that your mother died recently. She is saying she is sorry.’
Katherine gently extricated herself from his grandmother’s arms. ‘Tell her thank you, but I’m all right.’
‘And what about a husband?’ Yia-Yia continued. ‘Where is he? Has she left him in England?’ She clicked her tongue. ‘A woman shouldn’t leave her husband. Where is her ring?’
‘She’s not married, Grandmother.’
‘And why not? She is old not to be married! Is she one of those modern women who think they don’t need husbands? Or is she divorced?’ Her mouth turned down at the corners. Grandmother didn’t approve of divorce.
‘I don’t think she’s ever been married, Yia-Yia.’
She looked relieved. ‘Good. Perhaps she will fall in love with you. Would you like that? I think you like her, no?’
Katherine was watching him, waiting for him to translate, but he was damned if he was going to tell her how interested his grandmother was in her marital status—and her suitability as a partner for him.
‘Grandmother is saying she is happy to have you here in her kitchen. She hopes you will come often.’
‘Tell her it’s lovely to be here.’
To his relief, the business of serving them all dinner prevented further comments from his grandmother. Crystal insisted on sitting next to Katherine, her body pressed so tightly against her Katherine had to find it difficult to eat. Yet she said nothing. She laid down her knife so that she could eat with one hand. Crystal was a friendly child but he’d never known her to form an attachment quite as quickly. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t surrounded by love.
‘So you don’t work on weekends?’ Katherine asked him. They had taken their coffee onto the balcony. She’d offered to help clear away but his grandmother wouldn’t hear of it, insisting it was Crystal’s job. Or at least that was what Alexander had told Katherine. Grandmother would have been only too delighted to keep their guest in her kitchen while she cooked some more.
‘Carlos—my partner, who you met briefly—and I take turns an
d we have a colleague who fills in the rest of the time. He retired early so he could spend more time on his thirty-footer, but he likes to keep his hand in.’
‘What news about Stéfan?’
‘He’s still in Intensive Care.’
‘But he is going to be okay?’
‘I don’t know.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘He’s on a ventilator. They think it’s a rare type of bacterial meningitis that he has. They’re still doing tests.’ He stood. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to excuse me. It’s time for Crystal’s bedtime and she likes me to read her a story.’
‘Of course. I should get back anyway and do some more work before I turn in.’ Her cheeks had flushed. ‘Please say good night to Crystal and thank your grandmother for me. I had very pleasant evening.’
‘You’ll come again?’ he asked. She was easy company and he found being with her restful. Actually, who was he kidding? He just liked being with her.
‘I don’t want to keep intruding,’ she said, the colour in her cheeks deepening.
‘You’re not. Trust me.’
She gave him the ghost of a smile and left.
He watched her pick her way down the steps and into the square. He’d found it difficult to concentrate on his paperwork the last few days. His thoughts kept straying back to her, distracting him. Yes, he thought. She was a distraction—a very enjoyable one—but that was all she would ever be.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, just after dawn had lightened the sky and Katherine had taken her coffee out to the balcony, she noticed that Alexander was back working on his boat. In which case she would work inside, at least until she was sure he’d gone. She’d already had more to do with him than was wise. Relationships, particularly brief flings with attractive Greek doctors still grieving for their wives, had no place on her agenda.
But even as she reminded herself of that, she wondered if she could make an exception. It would be so good to feel someone’s arms around her again. Good to have company, good to have someone to share walks and trips with, and who better than a man she would never see again once she’d left here?
She shook her head to chase the thoughts away. She suspected he found her attractive, but that wasn’t the same thing as wanting even a casual relationship with her. And just how casual did she want it to be? Unbidden, she imagined him naked, tanned body against white sheets, his hands exploring every inch of her.
She retreated back inside and determinedly fired up her computer. Work. That was what kept her sane. Her paper was what she should be concentrating on.
She edited all day, acutely aware that her attention kept wandering back to Alexander. Just before supper she heard the excited voice of Crystal and, unable to resist a peek, peered out at the bay. He was there again, but this time in the water with his daughter.
She watched as he raised Crystal above his head before tossing her in the air and catching her just before she hit the water. The little girl shrieked with pleasure and wrapped her arms around her father’s neck. A few minutes later Alexander, Crystal balanced on his shoulders, waded out of the water, his swimming shorts clinging to narrow hips and lean but muscular thighs.
It wasn’t just that she found him sexy as hell. She liked the way he was with his child—clearly she was the centre of his universe and that was the way it should be: a child’s happiness should always be paramount. Her chest tightened. What would he think if he knew her secret? Not that she was ever to going to share it with him.
She went into the kitchen and made herself a Greek salad with some of local goat cheese and olives, along with plump, ripe tomatoes she’d bought from the village store. Telling herself it was far too beautiful an evening to eat inside, she took her plate out to the lower veranda. Alexander and Crystal had disappeared, no doubt having gone home to have their evening meal. As the sun sank below the horizon, she sighed. Despite everything she’d told herself, their absence made her feel lonelier than ever.
* * *
Alexander excused himself from the game of cards he had been playing and, taking his beer, walked over to the small wall surrounding the village square. Crystal was riding her bike around the fountain in the centre in hot pursuit of the neighbour’s boy, her little legs pedalling as fast as they could so she could catch up with him.
Alexander smiled as he watched her. He’d made the right decision, coming back. Crystal was thriving, his grandmother was delighted to have her close by and he was...well, content. As long as his daughter was happy he was too—or as much as he had any right to expect. Sometimes he wondered whether Crystal even remembered Sophia. She spoke of her mother periodically, asking if she were still in heaven and telling him that she knew Mama was watching her from the sky. Occasionally he would show Crystal video footage he’d taken of them on the too-rare occasions he’d taken leave and they’d come here. His daughter would lean forward and watch with shining eyes.
What would Sophia think if she knew he was back in Greece? How would she feel about him giving up his job in London? Would she be pleased that he’d finally, even when it was too late, realised what was important? Would she approve of the way he was bringing up their child? God, he still missed her and, God, he still felt so damned guilty.
He sipped his cold beer and gazed out over the sea. It was then he noticed Katherine. She’d just emerged from the water, her long legs emphasised by the black one-piece costume she was wearing. She dried off then wrapped the towel around her and sat with her back to him, knees pulled up to her chest, staring out at the same sea he was.
Under her prim exterior and natural reserve, there was a loneliness, an aura of something so vulnerable about her he found himself, for the first time since Sophia’s death, wanting to know another woman better. But what did he have to offer? He wouldn’t, couldn’t, get married again. No one could ever match up to Sophia.
He took another gulp of his drink and turned away. Why had the possibility of getting married again even crossed his mind? The moonlight was making him fanciful. His life was complicated—and full—enough.
Crystal whizzed by him on her bike and waved. Right there was everything that mattered. He glanced at his watch. It was time to get his daughter to bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
AS HAD BECOME a habit, Katherine was sitting outside his house on the bench with Grandmother, after spending a couple of hours cooking with her in the kitchen. She’d closed her eyes to savour the sensation of the breeze on her face, but when Grandmother poked her in her ribs with her elbow she opened them to see that Alexander was coming across the square towards them.
Katherine’s heart leaped. Frightened of what he would read in her eyes, she lowered her lids until she was sure she could look at him calmly. She could deal with her developing crush on him as long as he never suspected.
‘Hello, you two.’ He bent and kissed his grandmother on her cheek and said something to her in Greek that made her laugh. Although Katherine’s Greek was improving, when the Greeks spoke to each other it was usually too fast for her to follow.
Alexander grinned at Katherine. ‘I’ve just asked her what she’s thinking of, sitting down when dinner’s due. She says now she has you to help her, sometimes she can take time off to enjoy the Greek sunshine.’
Nevertheless, the old woman got to her feet and retreated back inside, leaving her space on the bench for Alexander. He took a seat next to Katherine and, like she’d been doing earlier, turned his face up to the sun and closed his eyes. ‘My grandmother is right. We all need to sit in the sun more often,’ he murmured.
His usual vitality seemed to have deserted him and he looked tired.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.
‘No, not really. Stéfan—the man with meningitis—died last night.’
‘I’m so sorry. I really hoped he woul
d be okay.’
He opened his eyes and turned to face Katherine. ‘So did I, but once he developed multi-organ failure...’ He paused. ‘We’ve asked for a post-mortem but, according to the pathologist, it might be another week before they can do it. They have a bit of a backlog as his colleague is off on leave.’ He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. ‘I was speaking to one of my colleagues in the area today and he tells me he’s had a case too—a couple of days ago, a teenager. He’s been admitted to a hospital in Athens.’
Katherine’s antenna went on red alert. ‘Two cases in a week? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?’
‘He isn’t sure his patient has meningitis. He’s going to call me as soon as he has the results of the lumbar puncture. But I’d be surprised if they both have it. As far as I’m aware, meningitis normally affects similar age groups.’
‘Usually, but not always. It depends on the strain.’
‘We’ll find out soon enough. They’re giving his patient’s family antibiotics prophylactically to be on the safe side.’
‘Sensible,’ Katherine murmured. However, if Alexander’s colleague’s patient did turn out to have meningitis, it could be the start of something. Something terrifying.
‘Any others you’re aware of?’ she asked.
‘I rang around a few of the practices in the area, but no one else has come across any. I’ve told them to let me know if they do. I’m hoping these two will turn out to be random, unrelated events—supposing David, the teenage boy, does have it and, as I said, that isn’t at all certain.’
He could be right, but there was a way she could find out.
She heard Grandmother calling Alexander from inside and got to her feet. ‘Sounds like you’re wanted.’
‘I thought you’d want to know about Stéfan,’ he said, rising too ‘After I check in with Yia-Yia, I’m going to see the family of one of my other patients who I admitted to hospital after I diagnosed her with a nasty chest infection.’ He smiled wryly. ‘It’s one of the privileges, but also one of the responsibilities, of being in general practice in Greece. Any member of a family becomes unwell and the rest expect you to see them through it as well. And that usually involves late-night tea and cakes and much discussion.’
