Šipan
Ana reached out and touched her phone. Six o’clock. She’d actually slept – eventually. No thanks to Pajo, phoning at about eleven last night to ask her to supper on Saturday.
She’d had no reason, no reason at all, to refuse his invitation.
He’d left her absolutely no wiggle room, and once she had finally agreed she’d been left in no doubt what they’d be talking about either.
His promises to make it a night to remember, one fit to mark the start of a new chapter, had kept her awake into the smallest hours, without coming anywhere near a conclusion.
She settled back into her pillows. In the light of day, common sense told her the fact she seemed to be incapable of telling Pajo honestly why she kept putting him off should be raising all sorts of alarm bells.
As should the uncomfortable realisation that she couldn’t quite get that winemaker, Ra?, out of her head.
If she could talk to Meri about it, she was sure her friend would have an angle.
She’d probably ask how Ana could even be considering sharing her life with someone she couldn’t fully open up to, especially when she found she was so intrigued by another man.
But what Pajo was offering wasn’t a conventional relationship; it was a marriage of convenience.
Quite literally. A way for them both to make their parents happy, and to start a family of her own.
If only she could be absolutely sure that she didn’t want children, then she could tell Pajo no.
At least there’d be a reason, not an excuse.
She’d searched and searched her heart for the answer most of the night, leaving her feeling like a limp and ragged mess.
This way and that, that way and this, and she was sick of it.
She needed the answer, not only for herself but for Pajo too.
If she didn’t want this, then she needed to tell him, so he could move on as well.
If it wasn’t so damn early she might even be able to screw up the courage to phone him right now and come clean about her uncertainties, but within minutes her resolve had drained away, like water trickling through her fingers.
She remembered Lloyd’s words about honesty sometimes hurting, and she didn’t want to hurt Pajo.
But if she couldn’t make him happy either…
Sranje! Round and round in circles again.
Whatever she decided, surely it was better to tell him to his face, which made Saturday a rather scary deadline, on top of all the other scary things this week – like worrying about what Mirjana might tell Kristina and like meeting the head of the school on Mljet.
Ana needed a clear head all right, and for that she needed a swim.
But first her morning message to Meri to find out if she’d slept at all was way overdue.
* * *
Even after her broken night, Ana was more than pleased to see Ra? on the beach.
Standing in the shadows of the trees around the path, she watched him pull his top over his head.
His muscular shoulders were completely in proportion to his body, not overdone in the gym, but presumably a natural result of his work.
He was absolutely gorg— But no. No way should she treat him as a sex object.
She’d hate it if the boot was on the other foot.
What would be nice this morning was his company, to take her away from her thoughts.
She almost called for him to wait for her, but instead of heading into the water he stared out to sea with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. Something made her hold back, waiting for him to move, but he didn’t.
When she slithered down the bank he turned, the ghost of a smile on his face.
“You looked thoughtful,” she said. “I didn’t know if I should disturb you.”
“It’s a public beach.”
“Yes, but…”
“And you are a tactful woman who can read body language very well. It’s nothing really, except it is something. My daughter chose not to come this week because one of her friends is having a party.”
“How old is she?”
“Nine going on nineteen.”
“Then parties are important. I guess she knows her tata will always be there.”
“But I’m not, am I?”
“You said you co-parent?”
“We do, and generally very well. We even go on family holidays, spend Christmas together and all that. But she is with her mother more during term time because of school, so holidays are precious.” He shrugged.
“At least the school is better in Dubrovnik. The one on ?ipan is so small. According to her mother, everything on ?ipan is small. Too small.”
“If you don’t think I’m prying, is that why you split up?”
Again, he looked out across the water towards Lopud.
“I should have known it was a risk. Jelka is a city girl, and she said she could settle here, but I think the reality didn’t live up to the dream of island life.
I don’t mean to put all the blame on her because it wasn’t like that.
She couldn’t stay, and I couldn’t leave.
My land, my vines … in the end they were more important than my wife and child.
” He turned, shaking his head. “So now you will think I’m a bastard. Well, it’s the truth.”
“If your ex said she could live here, then presumably she knew the score.”
“I don’t think she properly understood what it’s like though, especially in winter when everything is closed.
And, of course, the stakes were much, much higher once Manda was born.
” He sighed. “This land, my land, it’s in my blood, like it actually flows through my veins.
I could no more turn my back on it than…
It’s my purpose, Ana, the reason I was put on this earth.
” He paused. “I guess that sounds a bit crazy, and I’m sorry to burden you. You’re too good a listener, I guess.”
It didn’t sound crazy. In fact, it sounded more than familiar.
What Ra? felt about his land, what he knew, was exactly what the sea was for her.
No one, not even her dida, had put it so perfectly.
Or so honestly. But Ra? had also pointed out that it came at a terrible cost when you had a family.
If honesty sometimes hurt, perhaps being true to yourself did as well.
She needed to reply, although the words, when they came, sounded husky.
“It’s the same for me with the sea.” She stopped and met his eyes.
“Sometimes, if I can’t get out on the water, I feel as though something inside me will shrivel and die.
I could never be happy without being able to take off on Dida Krila whenever I want.
” There. She’d said it. But she had a family too; a family she would hurt almost as badly as Ra? had hurt his if she followed this through.
But at least she’d realised before she started another one. Realised with a start that the truth she had voiced with such clarity to Ra? meant the answer to the children question was definitely no.
He interrupted her thoughts. “Dida Krila?”
“My catamaran. My grandad was the same. All his life. The sea was his gift to me.”
“I’ve seen her in the harbour and she’s a stunner. It’s great that you’re keeping his memory alive in such a special way.”
The tears that had been threatening most of the night welled into Ana’s eyes. Regret? Relief? She turned away and began to unwind her sarong.
“Talking of the sea, time to get in, I reckon, don’t you?”
“Yes, but Ana, first … I don’t suppose you’d like to have dinner with me? Not next week because Manda will be here, and we don’t date when…” He flushed. “Actually, we’ve agreed not to date at all at the moment. It’s complicated, but I’d love to spend more time with you. As a friend?”
“As a friend is good. Perfect, in fact.” But was it really?
Or was she just saying it to please him?
Ra? in his bathing shorts certainly pushed all the right buttons in her body, but if friendship was all that was on offer, she’d take it.
She already knew she was looking forward to dinner with Ra? far more than supper with Pajo.
Which didn’t just tell her something; it screamed it.
But she still owed it to Pajo to explain to his face that she couldn’t keep their promise.
* * *
Back in her cabin, Ana stood in front of the mirror and tried the words out.
“I am not going to have children.” She watched her mouth as it shaped them, waiting for a reaction to kick in. Nothing. All she felt was relief.
She tried again. “I will never have children.” No strong emotions at all.
“Mama and Tata will never be grandparents.” Now that stung. She bit her lip, her brow furrowing. But the feeling was for them, not for herself.
What had Lloyd said? Something about every child being really wanted? And she had to face it: hers would not be. She couldn’t play god with someone’s life like that. She thought about Natali, and everything she’d gone through, because neither of her parents wanted her.
She pulled her hair into its scrunchie then stepped away from the mirror to make her bed.
Around her, Dida Krila creaked and rocked on her mooring, and she could hear Natali setting the table for breakfast in the salon above.
The smell of coffee mingled with the vague undertone of diesel.
This time tomorrow they’d be on the water, heading for Mljet, the open sea around them, salt in her hair, and already she was craving it. She simply could not give it up.
Every so often during the morning as she pottered around the boat, Ana found herself testing her decision.
The thing that surprised her most was that it hardly felt like a decision at all, just something she had always known, which had floated to the surface.
She knew it was right and that she had to tell Pajo, but how the hell she would explain it to her parents, she could not imagine.
She had almost forgotten that Kristina was meeting Mirjana until her email arrived.
It was short and to the point: the woman would not change her story.
As far as she was concerned, Lloyd was a thief.
Ana thumped the chart table in frustration.
That told her nothing she didn’t already know.
What had Lloyd supposedly stolen? Why had no one challenged him at the time?
Did Kristina even know? When Ana tried to call her, her phone went straight to voicemail.
Kristina was clearly avoiding her, so what was the point of leaving a message?
She powered down her laptop and made her way along the harbour to where Lloyd had set up the library next to the ferry ticket cabin.
He was chatting to a couple of teenage boys with beach towels under their arms, so Ana hung back, idly watching a young couple on a table in front of the konoba, trying to feed their toddler some pasta.
Everywhere, everywhere, were parents and children. But now it mattered so much less.
Once the boys had moved away, she approached the table. There were a good few gaps in the collection of books, which was a positive sign.
“Going well?” she asked.
Lloyd nodded. “Best day here yet, I think.”
“That’s good, because I don’t have the greatest news for you. I’ve had an email from Kristina, and Mirjana is sticking to her story.”
“So what happens now?”
Ana shook her head. “She didn’t say.”
Lloyd walked away from the table into the shade of the cabin that served as the ferry ticket office, and Ana followed.
“Do you know what’s pissing me off most about this?
” she said. “That there’s no substance to her accusations.
I mean, obviously you didn’t steal anything, but what were you meant to have taken, and when?
How on earth can you even begin to defend yourself if you don’t know? ”
“There’s only one way, and I probably should have done it before now. I need to talk to Mirjana, whether she wants to or not. I’ll stay over on Friday night again, then get the ferry and bus back to Ston afterwards.”
“You’ll do no such thing. We’ll all stay over. I’ll phone the marina at Lumbarda now to see if we can get a berth.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
Ana silenced him with a glare. “But I want to. And I know Natali will too. We’re in this together, remember.”
It was going to be an awkward conversation with Pajo, even to do no more than put him off for a week or so, but she was sure she’d made the right call. Not only did she want to support Lloyd, but given her decision, she needed the library to succeed more than ever.