Lopud
Propping a note saying he would be back at half past four against a pile of books on the library table, Lloyd called to Filip that he was going for some fresh air.
His days at the community centre were long because of reading to the children, but they were so very rewarding.
This morning he’d had a lengthy and complicated conversation in German with two older teenagers studying languages at the high school in Dubrovnik, and just an hour ago a university student who was working in one of the restaurants for the summer had asked him a question about Shakespeare. Now that had really stretched him.
This insight had made Lloyd even more passionate about making the library the very best it could be.
It was one thing being told about the Croatian education system, but quite another seeing the results of it first-hand.
And despite how it sounded, from what he could tell, the results were generally good.
It just felt strange to think that children could leave school so young, like Natali had.
He had an inkling that with a longer education she’d have far more options in life. The same went for these kids too.
But Filip had also told him there was a new system giving adults the opportunity to catch up on some of the schooling they’d missed.
It was only in its second year, and normally the participants had to pay, but if Natali was interested it could be just the thing to broaden her career prospects.
Lloyd had ascertained that distance learning was possible, and Filip had said he thought there were plans for students’ work experience to count towards their grades as well.
Once Natali was over the shock of what had happened to Baka, he’d need to sit down and talk to her about it.
Lloyd had been relieved that when Ana had dropped by with his lunchtime sandwich, she’d told him Natali had had a call from Baka’s son, saying his mother was doing well in hospital and thanking her for her prompt action.
It was too soon to know how good Baka’s recovery would be in the long term, but she was certainly well enough for Natali to visit if she wanted to.
Lloyd was delighted that Natali had made such a good connection with the old lady.
The youngster clearly didn’t have many friends, and in just a few weeks the crew of Dida Krila would go their separate ways.
He knew Ana was trying to find work for Natali close to her in Ston, so far without luck, and he worried about how she would fare as winter approached, because as things stood she had no job and no home after the beginning of September.
The park was all but empty at this time of day, the view down the broad central walkway to the sea overhung with vibrant pink bougainvillea, the pillared pots on either side of the steps to the promenade framing ?ipan opposite in a picture-perfect postcard of the Elafiti islands.
Down every path was some interesting piece of stonework – a rustic arch set with seashells, an intricately carved column with animals and birds highlighted by the sunlight slanting through the palms and Aleppo pines above.
Whoever designed this garden had surely had peace in mind.
Jenny would have loved it, and in his heart Lloyd was telling her all about it.
His fruitless discussion with Mirjana behind him, and Ivana away from her desk for a week, some of the weight had been lifted, giving him the mental space to return to dealing with his grief.
Except now that grief seemed to be subtly different.
Had telling Jenny about Mirjana really been as cathartic as it had felt at the time?
He’d only loved two women in his life: his young, all-consuming passion for Mirjana, then the solid, deep wonder of finding his soulmate in Jenny.
That description made his feelings for Jenny sound rather unexciting, which wasn’t fair, or true.
His relationship with his wife had been everything in every season.
A lifetime partnership, ended far too early, which he could now look back on with intense gratitude.
Nobody could touch that, or take it away, and whatever happened it would always comfort him.
It didn’t mean there weren’t still moments when he missed her so keenly he could weep, but they were fewer and further between.
He was actually beginning to heal. He felt ready to move on with his life.
He still didn’t know where the hell it would take him, but perhaps that came next, provided the long shadow of the theft accusations didn’t follow him home as well.
But surely, surely, Ivana couldn’t put something in a reference without an iota of proof.
In five weeks’ time he’d be back in London.
Maybe he could talk to his old headteacher.
If she thought it might be possible, one idea was to ease himself back into the profession with some supply work – provided anyone would have him.
A very big provided indeed. But with Jenny gone, he had to try.
He had to try to return to the profession they’d both loved.
The way he’d behaved towards that child had been terribly, terribly wrong, and it always would be, but it had been an aberration.
He understood that now. Understood that grief was a kind of madness; that his guilt about what he’d done shouldn’t be allowed to change who he was.
Lloyd looked at his watch. He needed to get back to the community hall and prepare for story time. The children would be waiting, and he’d spent the quieter moments of his week rewriting Little Red Riding Hood in Croatian. They were going to love it.