Chapter 9
Thought of the day…
Laughter is a salve for the soul.
Make time to laugh every day.
(And, yes, hysterical ‘if I don’t laugh I’ll cry’ laughter counts.)
‘Oh, speak of the devil,’ said Trudy when we arrived at the helipad. ‘It’s Tom.’
It took a sec for her words to register, but when I looked across the large concrete circle, there he (fucking) was.
So much for a husband-free day. And god, he looked good – well-fitting shorts sitting just above his knees and showing off his tanned calves, and a short-sleeved white shirt that was slightly see-through.
The trail of dark hair that started at his chest, tapered, then disappeared beneath his waistline was every kind of hot.
‘Oh, my fucking god,’ I muttered under my breath.
‘What’s that, hun?’ asked Trudy.
‘Nothing,’ I replied brightly.
‘Yoo-hoo, Tom!’ she called out.
Please, Aphrodite, kill me now, I wished, but no such luck.
Tommy looked up from his phone, then headed over.
If only I’d brought protection from his potent presence – but alas, my Hazmat suit was back in London.
‘Hi, Tom,’ Trudy said as he joined us.
‘Good morning, Trudy. Ally,’ he added, making a show of acknowledging me.
‘Tom,’ I replied, wishing he was anywhere else.
‘Morning, all!’
Niki and Minh had arrived and when Trudy turned to talk to them, I stepped closer to Tommy.
‘Don’t tell me you’re also a helicopter pilot,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘You should be grateful I’m not – I’m a nervous flier, remember?’ he replied. I vaguely remembered that, yes, but there was a more pressing question.
‘Then what are you doing here?’
‘Well, Elsa was supposed to be leading this excursion, but something came up – a work thing – so…’ He stretched his arms out wide and shrugged.
‘You’re joking. You’re coming to Naxos?’
‘Don’t sound so thrilled about it,’ he said, pretending to be hurt.
‘This may come as a surprise to you, but I wouldn’t have agreed to come to Aetheria if I’d known you’d be here.’
This time, Tommy appeared legitimately hurt – and it cut me to the quick. I took a breath, schooling my expression.
‘I only meant—’
I was interrupted by the sound of a helicopter approaching. We all looked skyward and Tommy shepherded us to the side of the helipad to safety.
It was probably best that I didn’t get to finish my thought, because it would have been a lie.
I wouldn’t have gone to Aetheria if I’d known Tommy was there.
With Elsa. Who I did not care for and, in all likelihood, was his girlfriend.
What he saw in her was baffling, but Tommy was a big boy – he could make his own mistakes.
Besides, he was no longer mine to worry about.
It was my turn to climb into the helicopter, and I snapped back to the present.
The same pilot who’d flown me to the island gave me a little salute, which I returned with a smile.
But it fell away when Tommy climbed in and sat next to me, his thigh pressed against mine.
I scooched over to put a few centimetres between us.
If it wouldn’t have been such an obvious move, I’d have asked to swap with Niki, who was across from me.
But then I would have had to face him. A lose-lose situation.
Once we were all buckled in – a manoeuvre that required me to lift my arse off the seat so Tommy could fumble around beneath me to latch his lap belt – a steward closed the door and we were suddenly airborne – like the Skyscreamer at Blackpool, a ride I’ve been on exactly once and never (fucking) again.
Tommy nudged me with the back of his hand, but I didn’t respond. Then he pressed up against me, making it impossible to ignore him. He signalled for me to lift the headset away from my ear. Curious, I did.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, leaning in close. His breath tickled my skin and in a feat of terrible timing, I inhaled deeply, catching a lungful of his freshly showered scent. Both were an assault on my senses, and I wished I’d left the headset where it was.
‘Fine,’ I replied out of the side of my mouth. I let the headset fall back into place, then Tommy lifted it again.
‘Do you mind?’ I asked curtly.
‘You were never a nervous flier,’ he said, seeming perplexed.
‘That’s planes, not helicopters. And don’t you feel queasy?’ I asked, shooting him an annoyed look.
‘No. Actually, it’s kind of exhilarating,’ he said earnestly.
‘Whatever.’
Doing my best to ignore Tommy – his thigh pressed against mine, the scent of his cologne, his very existence – I watched out the front window. It was impossible not to be impressed by the spectacular sight of Naxos looming before us – queasy stomach or not. It was huge compared to Aetheria.
But just as we approached the coast, we swung in a wide arc to the north, then back out over the sea.
‘Where are we setting down?’ I asked, holding down the talk button on my headset.
The pilot pointed ahead of us and there it was – a yacht with a helipad on top. A yacht I knew far too well. Julian’s yacht.
We were landing on Julian’s bloody yacht and he hadn’t even changed the bloody name, like he’d promised. It was still called Ally’s (bloody) Odyssey.
And no woman wants her name plastered across the scene of her marital demise.
Next time I saw Julian, I wouldn’t ask him to change it – I’d tell him. And if he was short on ideas, I had plenty.
Tommy must have noticed I was rattled – and why. He leaned forward to look out the front window, then sat back abruptly and fixed me with a troubled stare.
Yes, Tommy, I know. I’m not thrilled about it either.
From the reactions of the others, they hadn’t noticed – too fixated on the view of Naxos – which was a relief. Not that I was hiding my connection to Julian, but touching down on a yacht with my name splashed across the bow in giant gold letters was… mortifying.
After we disembarked, I was grateful – as always – to be back on solid ground. Even if that ‘solid ground’ was bobbing about in the Aegean.
As I sucked in a deep breath of briny air, Tommy drew near.
‘Nice name,’ he murmured low in my ear.
I really wished he’d stop doing that, whispering in my ear.
Was he purposefully trying to turn me on?
And I didn’t acknowledge his unnecessary jab.
Instead, I strode purposefully towards the steward, who was waiting to greet us.
I didn’t recognise him so hopefully he had no idea that I was once the Lady of the Yacht.
‘Welcome aboard,’ he said in a Scottish brogue. ‘I’m Scott, the chief steward’ – I stifled a laugh at a Scot called Scott – ‘and if you need anything, just let me or another crew member know. The tender to shore leaves in thirty minutes. In the meantime, we have some refreshments for you.’
He signalled to another steward who stepped forward with a tray of freshly poured Champagne, something Julian insisted on every time we boarded.
I took one of the offered glasses and expelled a soft sigh. From Scott’s welcome, there was no way he knew that I was the Ally.
‘This way, please,’ he said, leading us down the staircase to the flybridge – just a fancy name for the uppermost deck where people like to hang out.
‘Oh, I could live on this yacht in a heartbeat,’ said Trudy, hooking her arm through mine and unwittingly saving me from another interaction with Tommy. ‘Can you imagine?’ she asked. ‘I mean, Dale and I are comfortable – far more fortunate than a lot of people – but this… Oh, it’s something else.’
‘It would probably wear thin after a while,’ I said. ‘I imagine it could get very lonely.’
I didn’t have to imagine it. When there were no guests aboard and it was just me, Julian, and a bloated crew – seriously, it was a five-to-one-ratio – then it was extremely lonely. There are only so many hours you can lie in the sun wishing that you and your husband had more in common.
Actually, it was often lonely when we did have guests. None of them were actual friends and I had to be on the entire time playing hostess, earning that gold lettering.
‘Hmm, I suppose,’ Trudy mused beside me.
She clearly thought otherwise but I wasn’t about to try and convince her. That would be yet another venture into dangerous territory – and it was obvious Julian hadn’t told her and Dale about our history.
Once I might have tried harder with Trudy. I don’t have that many female friends – besides Claude and she’s family, so she’s obligated to love me. I wanted to let Trudy in, but there were already secrets between us. And that’s hardly the foundation of a solid friendship.
‘Oh my god, look at that!’ she said, gawking at the enormous jacuzzi with its glass sides – a feature that had thrilled an exhibitionist like Julian no end. But that’s another story.
And Trudy was so distracted by the opulence (some might say ostentatiousness) that she almost missed the next step. I caught her before she tumbled down the staircase.
‘Oh, thank you, Ally. You’re so strong for such a petite gal.’
‘Pilates,’ I replied, and she laughed, even though I was being truthful.
With Scott in the lead, we stepped onto the flybridge and Minh rushed ahead of us, pointing his camera at me.
‘Ally? Look this way please,’ he prompted.
I posed, glass tilted and poised at my lips. This excursion was becoming curiouser and curiouser. The Julian I knew would never welcome groups of strangers onto his yacht – even just for drinks on the deck. But if Minh was photographing me aboard Ally’s Odyssey, then that must have been the plan.
Two more stewards appeared, each carrying a tray of delicious-looking nibbles, but I declined and wandered over to the railing.
My eyes roved the boxy structures on the shoreline of Naxos, soaking in the atmosphere as I sipped my champers.
Predictably, it was Krug – some things would never change – and the taste triggered a memory.