Zoe gave her a look. She plucked the card from the roses. She read it and looked up into Eva's smiling face. “Five down, Eternity To Follow - ETH,” she whispered. She put her arms around Eva.
“I’ve got something for you,” Zoe said.
“Oh? You’re going to find more white hair and pluck them?”
Zoe laughed and went into the tiny bathroom. She grabbed a cloth-covered canvas and went back into the bedroom.
“Oh, I like the cloth, very festive,” Eva joked as Zoe set up the painting against a chair. “You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble of finding such beautiful material.”
“Unveil it.” Zoe stepped back.
Eva took the edge of the cloth and pulled it away. Her jaw dropped. In the center of the canvas was a large tree. Eva rested against it, with Zoe in between her legs leaning back against her. Surrounding them were images of their lives, places they had been.
“Do you like it?”
“I love it.” Eva put her arm around Zoe and kissed her tenderly. “This is gorgeous.”
“I had the artwork sent here so I didn’t have to carry it.”
“It’s just so beautiful.” Eva kissed her again. “So, are you going to tell me what’s been on your mind since you came back from the meeting with Mrs. Muldoon?”
“How did you know that? Now who is reading my mind?” Zoe asked as Eva led her to the sofa. “Never mind, don’t answer that. You always know.”
“Like you know when I’m thinking about something.”
“Ah.” Zoe nodded. “Yes. I have been thinking about my meeting with Mrs. Muldoon.”
“What tipped you off about her?” Eva smiled.
“You were right. There was something there.”
“Yes. I was suspicious the minute she gave me the photo.”
“What about it?”
“I know you know this, but describe what we are wearing in David’s photo,” Eva said.
“What we are wearing? Um...you were wearing a light blue blouse with those cute monkeys on them, pleated dark blue pants, and you wore your hair short because it was when we were living at the apartment. I was wearing a bright pink shirt with embroidery around the collar and a black pleated skirt. It was a sunny day.” Zoe opened her eyes and smiled.
“Are you sure it was sunny?”
“Yes.”
“Was a ship docked at the international terminal?”
“I don’t know because we weren’t overlooking the terminal. We were closer to the heads than inside the harbor. Is that all?”
“We both had long hair in the photo that Mrs. Muldoon showed me. But what made me wary, and I just couldn’t put my finger on it, was that, other than the long hair, there was the healing cut above your eye.”
“The cut above my eye? Right after the accident?”
“Yes. Remember it was the first weekend that you were allowed out of bed and we went out? We went to the same spot we love, overlooking the city, but this time it was a bit further down.”
“Yes, I remember that.”
“It was a cloudy day, love. It wasn’t sunny at all. I remember because I took photos of the harbor and kept hoping the cloud cover would clear so I could take a good photo of the ship that had just sailed in.”
“The ship was in the photo?”
“The ship was in the photo,” Eva said. “There was no ship in David’s photo. We were sitting in a spot that had a good view of the international terminal in this photo, but not in David’s photo.”
“You were looking a little perplexed this morning,” Zoe added. “You had this weird look on your face when you spotted Mrs. Muldoon at breakfast.”
“It all clicked this morning.”
“Wow. That’s good detective work, Miss Holmes. She spied on us so she can know who she had working for her.”
“That photo was taken before we decided to go to Europe.” Eva put her arm around Zoe. “This woman has had us watched before she even knew we were going.”
“Oh, that’s strange. Do you think she caused my accident?”
“No.” Eva shook her head. “I thought of that but dismissed it. There was no way of knowing which route you were going to take that day. Half the time you don’t even know.”
Zoe grinned. “I like changing the route.”
“I know.” Eva returned Zoe’s smile and touched her lightly on the nose. “You drove me crazy because the Legacy Road route is longer and you like to speed on it. What happened to you was an accident.”
“That’s a whole lot of trouble to keep a close watch on us, isn’t it? How do we know her?”
“We didn’t know her, but she knows someone that knows me.”
“Oh shit, not another Nazi!”
Eva put her arm around Zoe and kissed her on the cheek. “No, love, not another Nazi, but someone just as controlling. She’sworking for Frau Beatriz Muller.”
“What? Why would you think Mrs. Muldoon is working for your grandmother?”
“She told she knew my grandmother, and the only reason she would have spied on us would have been at her request.”
“For someone that doesn’t love you, she wants to know a lot about you.”
“It’s not about love, Zoe, it’s about control. My grandmother doesn’t like to lose control. She never has and I doubt she has changed much.”
“I dislike this woman. Remember how I didn’t like her eyes in that photo you had in Larissa?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Cold. Your grandfather I liked a great deal. He had nice, kind eyes, but not her. So you think Grandmother Muller wants to keep an eye on you?”
“Yes.”
“So she knows where you are but hasn’t made any contact.”
Eva sighed. “She has made contact. Now, with Mrs. Muldoon.”
“Such a loving thing to do,” Zoe said sarcastically. “Did you have an inkling this was going on?”
“No, not really. She told she knew my grandmother, so I thought she may have done some digging, but I’m not surprised. How did your meeting go with her?”
“She said all the things a young artist would like to hear.” Zoe shrugged. “Tickled my ears and all of that.”
“But?”
“She made a mistake. If you showed me a photo you have taken and asked me what I thought of it—”
“As I have many times.”
“Yes. I take that photo and I say I hate it. Truly hate it and would like to rip it up. What would you say?”
“I would want to know why and what was in that photo that I could do better.”
Zoe smiled. “That’s the reaction an artist has. You and I are artists. You create your art through your photos and I create my art through painting and drawing. I saw an artwork. Truly hideous colors. Mrs. Muldoon asked me if I liked it. I said no.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“She revealed it was her artwork and then said nothing to defend it. Every artist I know would defend his or her work. She didn’t.”
“That made you suspicious?”
“It made me curious, but when I went up to the deck where you were taking photographs with the clown, Alice was there to deliver some paperwork from Mrs. M. I asked her if Mrs. M was an artist.”
“She’s not.”
“No. Did you see the artwork?”
“No, there wasn’t any art on the walls, but it could be because they had just moved in and didn’t have time to hang any. Was her signature on it?”
“I don’t remember seeing it.”
“So it was just that she didn’t defend her art?”
“Yes. It’s not normal for an artist not to defend their work. That made me suspicious. You know how much I hate liars.” Zoe shook her head as she got comfortable and leaned back into Eva’s body. “As much I like to think I’m a good artist and you think I’m the next Berthe Morisot, you are biased.”
“I don’t think you’re the next Berthe Morisot.” Eva kissed the top of Zoe’s head. “I think
you are better than Berthe.”
“I love you, but you are so blinkered.” Zoe giggled. “Anyway, Mrs. M paid too much attention to my work. Work that she described as seeing when she came to visit the Gallery.”
“How do you know she didn’t?”
Zoe looked up at Eva. “The artwork was sitting on my desk and nowhere near where she was. I’m a young artist, and she’s the patron of the Arts Council. Not in my wildest dreams would I dream that this woman would even know my name.”
“Unless you were Eva Muller’s lover.”
“Exactly. She doesn’t behave like a woman that found out about us only a few weeks ago when you submitted your application.”
“So we reached the same conclusion.”
“Yes.”
“The question now is...” Eva took Zoe’s hand and kissed it. “What do we do about this?”
“Do you want to stop working for her?”
“I like taking photographs, and I like this cabin,” Eva admitted. “The issue of her working for my grandmother won’t disappear. We don’t know how long she has been working for her and how long she has been spying on us.”
“So we play along?”
“I don’t see any benefit in telling her we know. You agree to work for her, but don’t do anything to arouse her suspicions.”
“This is like an Agatha Christie novel.”
“Yes. Hopefully, we won’t find out that the butler did it in the parlor,” Eva said.
Zoe shook her head.
“What? That’s funny.”
“No, that’s awful.” Zoe chuckled. “Alright then. I’m Mrs. Muldoon’s new art assistant. Fancy name for a job I’m never going to have. Do you think Dr. Salvatore is real?”
“Oh, yes.” Eva nodded. “That man has great hands.”
“Oh, yes. How could I forget? The one and only time you have ever fallen asleep during a massage.”
“It was very soothing.”
“Is that right?” Zoe straddled Eva’s legs. She gently cupped Eva’s face in her hands. She looked into Eva’s beautiful eyes and tenderly kissed her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Four Weeks Later
Eva yawned for the second time as she put away her camera. The dark room had become her own for the last few weeks, and she was not going to be sorry to see the back of it. It was cramped and made her feel slightly claustrophobic. With a sigh she turned and surveyed the drying pictures. She had taken so many photos she wasn't sure which ones were going to go into the magazine. She would have to come back in the morning and finalize everything before they docked in Athens.
Eva smiled at a photo of Zoe hanging over the rail. The wind had tousled her long red hair, giving her an impish look. She couldn't believe Zoe was twenty-two years old. It seemed like yesterday when she had met the young, fresh-faced teenager. Now she was going back to where it all began. Not the happiest of places, but the whole trip was one huge step down the emotional pain that was part of her past life.
“Just a few weeks and you will be rid of it. Just endure for a few more weeks,” Eva said, and turned off the light.
She shut the cabin door and pulled her jacket around her. The weather had taken an unseasonably cool feel and the warm nights outside on the deck were long past. Rain and cold weather, she smiled, just what she liked.
It was late in the evening, and she had promised Zoe she would be back to their cabin before midnight. She had spent the last few days trying to get all the photos developed. That required spending long hours in the dark room. She glanced at her watch, which read eleven-thirty, and smiled. She was rather pleased with herself that she had managed to finish everything before midnight.
Dr. Salvatore leaned against the railing.
“Are you trying to catch a cold?” Eva asked as she came up beside him.
Dr. Salvatore laughed and shook his head. “Guten nacht.”
“Buona sera,” Eva replied in Italian.
They had developed quite a rapport while Dr. Salvatore taught Zoe his technique on her over the course of the last few weeks. He was supportive, and taught with great skill and patience. One of the nicest side benefits was the massages Zoe gave her.
“No, not trying to catch a cold.” He turned to Eva. “And how is Miss Haralambos tonight?”
“Very tired,” Eva replied. “I want to go to sleep.”
Dr. Salvatore nodded. “You've been working long hours.”
“I've been trying to finish up.” Eva rubbed the back of her neck.
“How's your back?”
Eva grinned. “I haven't had any problems thanks to you.”
“Ah.” Dr. Salvatore chuckled. “Thanks to Zoe. She's been giving you the massages. She is a good student. So where to from here?”
“Athens, Larissa, and then Berlin,” Eva replied. “Are you staying in Athens?”
“Yes. I have some things I need to do,” Dr. Salvatore said with a pensive expression.
“Something wrong?” Eva asked.
“No, not really. I have some friends I need to meet, and then go to Genova. I have an apartment I need to sell and then go back to Australia,” Dr. Salvatore replied. “Lots of memories.”
“Good memories?”
Dr. Salvatore smiled sadly. “Do you have a certain date in your life when you say, from here it's good memories and from here it's bad memories?”
“Yes,” Eva replied.
“I see you know what I mean.” Dr. Salvatore sighed. “Before the war I was married.”
“Oh? You have never mentioned Mrs. Salvatore.”
“No.” He shook his head sadly. “My Katarina was killed during the war.”
“Oh.” Eva looked down at her feet, not knowing what to say. So many lives had been shattered during the war that she doubted there was anyone alive who hadn't felt the sting of death in their family. “How old was she?”
Dr. Salvatore smiled. “Katarina was seventeen years old, a young girl. I was twenty-five years old and a medic in the Italian army. Katarina was Jewish, and I foolishly believed that she was not going to suffer the fate of other Jews. Not my Katarina. I was an officer in the army. I am a stupid fool to have believed that. I've never seen her since. I tried to find out where she was but she was sent to a concentration camp. I don’t know which one.” He glanced at Eva.
“People have survived the camps...”
“Yes. I told myself that for many years. I went to Poland and Germany looking for her. I haven't found her. I tried to convince myself that she was in a hospital and didn't know her name or some other thing. Last year I tracked down some Auschwitz survivors from Genova.”
“Did they remember Katarina?”
“Hmm.” Dr. Salvatore looked out into the heavens. “The last they saw of her was when they were on the trains.”
Eva shivered and closed her eyes.
“Do you know why there are so many stars in heaven?” Dr. Salvatore asked.
“God created them?”
Dr. Salvatore turned to her and smiled. “There's an old myth that says that when someone dies, they are reborn as stars.”
Eva looked up into the myriads of stars in the heavens. “There're a lot of them.”
“Yes. It’s a nice little story, but I used to sit outside in my apartment in Genova and see this bright star up in heaven and talk to my Katarina,” he said wistfully. “Do you think that's strange?”
Eva shook her head. “No, not strange at all.”
“Hmm.” Dr. Salvatore nodded. “I would have been in big trouble if Katarina had responded.” He chuckled. “I would make up stories in my head. She was just stuck in some refugee place and she would find a way to get to me. I would find her. I would scold her for being so tardy in returning back to me and we would be fine.”
“We all want to believe.”
“Yes, I want to believe, but with each day that passes, another summer, another autumn, another winter and spring, it is obvious she is not coming back.”
Eva pu
t her hand on his shoulder. “How long were you married for?”
Dr. Salvatore looked down at his hand and the ring on his finger. “Three months. Three very short months.”
“I’m sorry, Vito. Are you going to sell up and go back to Australia?”
“Yes. I don't have any family in Genova.” He glanced at Eva. “I have to apologize to you.”
“What for?”
“For trying to woo Zoe,” he replied.
Eva smiled. “I can't say I was overjoyed by your attentions on her. She is a beautiful woman.”
Dr. Salvatore laughed. “If I had been paying attention at the time, I think I’m lucky I wasn’t thrown overboard.”
Eva chuckled. “Alright, I was a little jealous.”
Dr. Salvatore laughed even more. “Just a little, but I have a good reason for trying to woo Zoe.”
“Apart from the fact that she's a gorgeous woman?” Eva smiled. She surprised herself by how relaxed she was with him.
“That she is,” Dr. Salvatore said, and looked up. “But there is another reason.” He took out a photo from his top pocket. He looked at it for a moment and gave it to Eva.
The photo was creased in the middle and the edges were tattered. The young man in the photo wore a uniform and was smiling broadly, his arm around a young woman. Eva looked at Dr. Salvatore with an upraised eyebrow. The young woman was slightly shorter than Zoe but with the same smile, and although the photograph was damaged, the woman’s colouring did in fact resemble Zoe.
“Katarina had chestnut-coloured hair, like Zoe, and those green eyes.” Dr. Salvatore closed his eyes and smiled. “She was the most beautiful woman I had ever met.”
“She does look like Zoe,” Eva said, and looked at the photo again.
“Yes, I saw Zoe and my heart nearly stopped. I thought at last I had found my Katarina.” He looked away, his voice breaking a little. He cleared his throat and turned back to Eva. “I thought my search was over and here she was, but she is not my Katarina.”
“When did you last see her?”
“On the day I was being shipped to Greece in 1940.” He took out his handkerchief, wiped his eyes, and put the handkerchief back in his pocket. “Excuse me. I don't usually talk about my Katarina. I'm a sentimental fool some days.” He sighed. “Where did you two meet?”
Hidden Truths (Intertwined Souls Series Book 3) Page 15
