Wish You Were Here

by Victoria Connelly

  Chapter 25

  It was the morning of the day of the truth. That’s what Alice had decided. She had to tell Ben everything that had happened to her since she’d made the wish on the statue of Aphrodite. It was the only way she could live with herself. But the trouble was, Ben was nowhere to be found. She tried his extension number over and over again but it was always picked up by somebody else.

  ‘He’s in a meeting,’ she was told.

  All morning? Alice looked at the clock. It was after eleven. She had to calm down and wait until her lunch break.

  Larry was his usual weird self, avoiding all eye contact with Alice as he shuffled around the office, and grunting blunt responses to her whenever she tried to talk to him. How long could this go on for, she wondered?

  Finally, lunch time arrived and, not being able to wait a moment longer, Alice left her desk and walked up the stairs to the finance department. As soon as she walked through the door, she knew something was wrong.

  ‘Oh, he’s left already,’ Tamara Philips said when Alice asked where Ben was and she gave a sly sort of a smile that sent chills down Alice’s spine.

  Alice left the office, wondering where Ben had gone and why he hadn’t called in on her on his way downstairs. She tried his mobile but it went to the answering service and she didn’t want to leave a message so she went along to their favourite sandwich shop and then on to the gardens at the Castle Museum.

  That’s where she found him and he obviously wasn’t waiting for her.

  ‘Ben?’ She mouthed his name but, luckily, no sound came out because he wasn’t alone and Alice instantly recognised the woman he was with. It was Lynne and they were sitting on what Alice had come to think of as their bench. She froze for a moment, not knowing what to do. Should she confront him and start accusing him or give him the benefit of the doubt and act as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening? Or should she just slink away and ignore it?

  But she didn’t get a chance to make her mind up because Ben looked up and saw her standing there with her salad sandwich in one hand and her raspberry smoothie in the other.

  ‘Alice!’ he cried but she’d already turned and, picking up her pace, she headed towards the city centre, hoping to lose herself amongst the lunchtime shoppers, but she wasn’t quick enough and Ben had soon caught up with her. ‘Alice – please stop!’

  ‘Don’t even bother, Ben,’ she said, relieved that Lynne hadn’t accompanied him. ‘This whole thing is wrong!’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Ben asked, wide-eyed.

  ‘I’m not meant to be with you, Ben,’ Alice said simply. ‘We never should have happened.’

  ‘Look, is this because of Lynne? Because nothing’s going on between us, I swear! She rang me up asking to see me. What could I say?’

  ‘You could have said no,’ Alice told him.

  ‘It sounded important.’

  ‘Oh, really? So what was it then?’

  He looked cagey for a moment.

  ‘What was it, Ben?’

  ‘She wants to get back together. She said we never should have broken up.’

  Alice took a deep breath and then sighed it out slowly. ‘Well, maybe you should get back together.’

  ‘What?’ Ben cried, his voice high and panicky. ‘How can you say that?’

  ‘Because I think it’s probably the right thing to do,’ she said. ‘We’re not meant to be together.’

  ‘Why do you keep saying that, Alice? I don’t understand you sometimes.’ He took a step forward and reached out to take her hand but she was still holding her sandwich. ‘Come and have your lunch.’

  ‘What – with you and Lynne?’

  ‘No, not with Lynne – just me.’

  Alice looked at him. It would be so easy to stop things now, she thought – to walk away and forget about her and Ben. It had all been a huge mistake and the sooner it was all over, the better.

  ‘Please, Alice,’ he said, his blue eyes full of warmth, and something inside Alice just melted. She couldn’t make the break – not yet – and so she allowed Ben’s arm to slip around her waist and lead her to a bench that wasn’t occupied by an ex-girlfriend.

  Milo and Tiana were in the kitchen when the earthquake happened. At first, there was nothing more than a distant rumble that could easily have been mistaken for thunder but then the cups and plates on the kitchen table started to judder and Tiana looked up from where she was doing her homework, her dark eyes full of fear.

  ‘Get under the table!’ Milo yelled from the other side of the room and Tiana slid off her chair and flung herself to the safety of the ground underneath the hard wood. It was a move she’d rehearsed before because, although earthquakes weren’t common in Kethos, they were possible.

  As the rumbling continued, Milo dived under the table and held Tiana against him and felt her fingers curl around his arms.

  ‘It’ll be all right. It’ll soon be over,’ he said, kissing the top of her head and holding her close. He could feel her shaking or perhaps it was just part of the quake, he wasn’t sure. Perhaps he was shaking too.

  He watched as the whole room shook by an unseen force. It would be easy to imagine that the ancient gods had awoken and were displeased. Many of the older residents believed in such things.

  ‘You must not anger the gods,’ they would say, gazing mysteriously into the sky or pointing into the mountains. Milo didn’t believe in it all, of course. He believed in tectonic plates and the irrepressible force of nature. Still, whatever caused them, it was of no comfort when it was your own house that was being pushed, pulled and pummelled to within an inch of its life.

  A white plate smashed to the floor. It was followed by the old china teapot which had been their mother’s pride and joy. Crash! The work of a careless and thoughtless second by Mother Nature. Milo only hoped that would be the only damage and that their little home would survive intact. His salary as head gardener wouldn’t stretch to structural repairs on the old place.

  It was at times like this when your mind descended towards darkness. What if this was the end, Milo thought? What if his time was up? Would he have truly lived the life he had wanted to? Would his existence have counted for something?

  A kaleidoscope of images spiralled through his mind: the little home which he loved, his beautiful sister whom he adored, and the island that he held so close to his heart. Yes, he had lived a good life but it was much too soon to think about it all being over. Besides, he had only just started and there was so much more to do.

  What about his plans to have his own garden to open to the public one day? A garden that was truly his own where he could grow exactly what he wanted where he wanted, taking cuttings and collecting seed and selling his own plants to the public. And what about the wife and children he’d always envisaged? That wasn’t to be just an idle daydream, was it?

  And Alice. Where was she? Would she hear the news about their little island and would she find out about his death if this was to be the end? Would she wonder what his last hours were like and have any regrets that she didn’t try to get in touch with him again? Would she even come out to Kethos to try to search for his remains amongst the ruins?

  He shook his head. He was becoming hysterical. He needed to stop thinking that the ground was going to crack open and swallow him at any moment and just calm down. He kissed Tiana’s head again and squeezed her.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘There’s no need to panic.’

  ‘I’m not panicking,’ she replied as another plate hit the tiled floor and smashed, and he couldn’t help but smile knowing that it was his little sister who was the calming influence here.

  He’d lost all track of time whilst they were cowering under the table. How long had it been since the first rumble? Five minutes? Twenty minutes? He cocked his head and listened. The world seemed to be settling. It seemed to be straightening up again.

  ‘Has it stopped?’ Tiana asked in a small voice a moment later.

  �
�Don’t move,’ Milo said, getting out from underneath the table. His limbs had seized up and he stretched as he looked around the kitchen at the broken cups and plates and then ventured into the hallway and opened the front door. Everything looked perfectly normal. His moped had fallen over and a couple of buckets had been tipped onto their sides but the earth was still intact. A little stone wall at the end of their driveway had cracked but was still standing. They’d got away lightly.

  Tiana joined him.

  ‘I told you to stay where you were!’ Milo said.

  ‘But it’s over now, isn’t it?’

  ‘There might be aftershocks,’ he said.

  ‘Mama’s teapot is broken,’ Tiana said.

  ‘Yes, but at least our bones aren’t,’ Milo said.

  ‘I think I’d rather have broken bones than a broken teapot,’ Tiana said and Milo hugged her to him.

  ‘We still have her casserole dish, don’t we? It’s safe in the cupboard.’ Tiana nodded. They kept it in a snug wooden box filled with straw because it was so precious.

  ‘And there’s orange juice all over my homework.’

  ‘I think your teacher will understand,’ Milo said.

  They both walked back indoors together, marvelling at the wonky pictures on the walls and the broken crockery everywhere.

  ‘Mind where you step!’ Milo said, guiding Tiana over a large broken bowl which had smashed onto the kitchen floor. It was going to take hours to tidy up.

  Tiana ran through to her bedroom.

  ‘Careful!’ Milo shouted after her, following her down the hallway. He stood in the doorway of her bedroom and saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, a broken photo frame in her hand. ‘You shouldn’t have picked that up!’ Milo said, taking it from her.

  ‘It’s cracked,’ she said, tears in her eyes.

  ‘Just the glass,’ he said. ‘We can fix it.’ He looked at the photo. It was the only one they had of Tiana with their mama. Tiana was just a few weeks old and their mama was cradling her in her arms, a huge smile on her face as she looked at the camera with her large sloe-dark eyes.

  ‘She’s so beautiful,’ Tiana said.

  Milo nodded and sat down on the bed next to her. ‘We’ll get a new frame for it.’

  They were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts as they looked at the photograph.

  ‘Why did she die?’ Tiana asked at last.

  ‘She got sick,’ Milo said. ‘You were so small at the time. You don’t remember. But Mama got very sick and there was nothing the doctors could do.’

  ‘What was wrong with her?’

  Milo took a deep breath. ‘She had a tumour,’ he said. ‘It’s a bad growth that you can’t get rid of.’

  ‘And it killed her?’

  Milo nodded.

  ‘So she’s with Papa?’

  He nodded again. ‘Yes. She’s with Papa.’

  ‘He got sick too, didn’t he?’ Tiana said.

  ‘Papa was very old,’ Milo said. ‘But he loved you so much. Mama did too.’

  ‘You’re not going to die, are you?’ Tiana suddenly asked.

  ‘I’m not planning to,’ he said with a little smile.

  ‘I’m not either,’ she said resolutely, her eyes wide.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then we’ve got each other. The two fierce survivors of the great Kethos earthquake. We can survive anything now.’

  Tiana smiled up at him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We’re indes—’ she paused, looking for the right word.

  ‘Indestructible?’ Milo said.

  She nodded. ‘Yes!’

  ‘And we’re indescribable,’ he said.

  ‘No, we’re not!’

  ‘And we’re indigestible,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘Milo!’ she giggled and punched him in the ribs.

  ‘Ouch!’ he yelled. ‘And we’re—’ he paused.

  ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘We’re in this together!’

  ‘Yes!’ she said. ‘That one is true!’

  Chapter 26

  It was only when Milo arrived at the Villa Argenti the next day that he saw the full extent of the damage of the earthquake. His side of the island had got away lightly in comparison and he looked around his beloved garden in despair.

  The Goddess Garden had taken the brunt of the quake and one of Artemis’s hounds had cracked in two and Athena had lost an arm but actually looked better for it, Milo couldn’t help thinking. More traditional, he thought. She’d probably pass for an ancient work of art now and scholars would come from all over the world to gaze upon her and write sonnets.

  But it was his beautiful Aphrodite that almost caused him to shed a tear. She lay smashed in at least a dozen different pieces, her lovely face gazing up at the sky uncomprehendingly.

  ‘What should we do with her?’ Lander asked him as they looked at the broken beauty who no longer towered above them but had been brought down to earth.

  ‘We’ll have to take her to that guy who did the repair on Hera last summer after that idiot tourist carved his initials into her bottom. Mr Carlson will be furious. Aphrodite is his favourite. He’ll want her mended or a new one made,’ Milo said.

  ‘I don’t think they’ll be able to fix her,’ Lander said, running his finger along the crack around her pretty neck.

  ‘We have to try,’ Milo said.

  ‘I don’t know much about statues,’ Lander said, ‘but she looks pretty dead to me.’

  Milo shook his head. ‘We can’t allow her to be dead. We have to try and save her. She’s too important to the tourists to let her go,’ he said, not daring to add that she was just as important to him.

  ‘And what about the garden?’ Lander asked, looking around. The damage to the plants was nothing compared to his master’s beloved statues but it still had to be cleared up. Terracotta pots had cracked, a wall had come down and the greenhouse had lost most of its windows.

  ‘Look,’ Milo said, ‘it’s Friday afternoon. There’s not a lot we can do now, is there?’

  ‘I guess not,’ Lander said.

  ‘Let’s just tidy up as best as we can and think about how we’re going to sort the rest of it out before his highness returns next week.’

  Friday afternoons were usually a time to wind down in the office. They were a time to sort out any bits of paperwork before the weekend exodus, to tidy away, to file and move on. So, it came as rather a surprise when Larry Baxter’s wife turned up.

  Monica Baxter was a tiny woman with a big attitude. She looked as if she spent half her life in a beauty salon and the other half in London’s Bond Street and, today, she didn’t look pleased. Larry was in an interview with someone and Alice was just about to offer Monica a cup of tea whilst she waited for him but it wasn’t a cup of tea she wanted. It was Alice.

  ‘I trusted you, Alice Archer!’ she all but screamed.

  Alice flinched as the little woman hovered menacingly over her desk. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I thought you were different.’

  ‘Mrs Baxter – what are you talking about?’

  ‘What am I talking about?’ Her scarlet-painted mouth quivered in a frightening manner. ‘I’m talking about you trying to seduce my husband – that’s what I’m talking about!’

  The whole of the open-plan office fell silent and Alice blushed to her very soul. ‘I think we should talk about this somewhere else,’ Alice said.

  ‘I bet you do, you double-crossing floozy!’

  Alice leapt up from her chair and did her best to guide Mrs Baxter through to a vacant interview room and closed the door behind them. ‘Please sit down.’

  ‘Don’t you tell me what to do!’ Mrs Baxter said. She looked quite wild now and Alice wondered if it was a good idea to be trapped in a room with her.

  ‘I don’t know what Larry’s been telling you,’ Alice ventured, ‘but–’

  ‘He’s not told me a single thing!’ Mrs Baxter said. ‘He just talks about you in his sleep – every single nig
ht.’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Alice said and she watched as Mrs Baxter sank into one of the interview chairs as if all the air had been knocked out of her and there was nothing Alice could do but sink into the chair opposite her.

  ‘I just can’t understand it,’ Mrs Baxter went on, a look of complete astonishment on her face. ‘I mean, you’re so plain. I didn’t think I needed to worry.’

  ‘But you don’t need to worry,’ Alice assured her. ‘Nothing’s happened, I promise you. It’s all just some misunderstanding. I’m not seeing your husband. He doesn’t even look at me in the office if you want to know the absolute truth. I’m seeing Ben Alexander.’

  ‘Ben Alexander? From the finance department?’ Monica Baxter looked perplexed. ‘Well, excuse me for saying so but you’re just not his type.’

  As much as it pained her, Alice had to agree with her. ‘Listen,’ she said, ‘something strange has been going on but I can’t really say any more than that.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Mrs Baxter said.

  ‘I mean, this thing with Larry. All you need to know is that nothing’s happening. I promise you,’ Alice said, wringing her hands together like a bad actress.

  ‘And why should I believe you?’

  ‘Because you know me!’ Alice said. ‘We’ve talked at a dozen office parties. You know the sort of person I am.’

  ‘I thought I did!’ Mrs Baxter said, her scarlet mouth narrowed into a thin, mean line.

  ‘But you do know me and you know I couldn’t go behind your back like that.’ Alice looked at Mrs Baxter beseechingly and saw that she was beginning to calm down. ‘And Larry – well –’ Alice paused, wondering how she could phrase this without insulting the poor woman, ‘he just isn’t my type.’

  Mrs Baxter stared at her for a moment, her lips twitching nervously and then a tiny smile shone through and a little giggle emerged. ‘He isn’t your type!’ she said and she made a strange snorting sound.