Ston
Deep in thought, Lloyd laid the blue and white striped shirt on his bed.
He hadn’t worn it for years, but he remembered the day they’d bought it as if it were yesterday.
He and Jenny had been going to a neighbour’s barbecue and the weather had turned unseasonably hot, so they’d popped up to the West End to find her a sundress and she’d insisted he have something new too.
He could see her now in Marks the idea would be pretty much ingrained by now.
But what had really happened to the jewellery?
It was pointless trying to speculate, but it gave him a small degree of comfort that Mirjana hadn’t made the story up out of vindictiveness.
Around him, Dida Krila was quiet. Meri had arrived an hour or so before, and he’d left her and Ana talking on deck, while Natali walked Obi into town for supplies.
Tomorrow she was taking the bus to Dubrovnik to visit Baka in hospital, and Lloyd was nervous about what she might find.
But that was another worry to set aside.
He looked at his watch. Time to shower, shave, then put on that shirt and send Ruth that selfie before they set off for the party.
* * *
Somewhere between attacking the enormous buffet, toasting the Croatian Defenders with local wine from the barrel, and the music starting, the party had moved from the Me?trovi?’s garden to the quayside in front of the house.
The food had proved irresistible: long boards of cured meat, cheeses, olives, gherkins, almonds and grapes, served with the freshest of bread, and, of course, there’d been huge bowls of steaming musule na buzaru, mussels fresh from the bay, cooked simply in white wine, olive oil and garlic.
Now Lloyd was feeling the effects of his overindulgence and needed a walk.
The sun had not long dropped behind the Pelje?ac’s spine of hills, and the red, blue and white lamps strung around the terrace glowed in the warm, still air.
Moths flitted between them, and a particularly confident chicken strutted beneath the table, looking for scraps.
After glancing around to check that Natali was still happily chatting about recipes with Ana’s mum, Tereza, Lloyd made his way down the side of the house.
Someone had set up an impromptu bar on the waterside, and surprisingly loud music pumped from a smart speaker balanced at one end of it.
Ana and Meri were dancing with a group of other young women, while the men stood around clutching their drinks.
Lloyd smiled wryly; some things didn’t change, no matter where you were in the world.
Soon after they’d arrived, Ana’s father Antun had taken him down to the quay to point out the oyster beds in Malostonski Bay, promising that one weekend he’d take him out in the boat to witness some of the process.
Lloyd had been surprised at the size of this long, narrow sea enclosed in the arms of mountains on either side, its conditions perfect for the shellfish that gave the area its wealth.
He strolled to the end of the extended breakwater, smart wooden trip boats creaking quietly as they jostled with their more workaday fibreglass counterparts in the tiniest of swells.
Further along the bay, a cluster of lights glowed as the muted pearls and greys of dusk deepened into silky blue.
Above the Croatian mainland proper, as he thought of it, the moon rose in an enormous silver-white ball.
Even with the music thudding behind him it was all so perfect.
He and Mirjana had walked home from the old olive press on many a night, the moon in all its phases glittering above those self-same hills – hills with a war bubbling and brewing beyond them, a war he’d ignored despite all Kesten’s warnings, until it was almost too late.
The end had come quicker than he and Mirjana had ever imagined.
They should have taken more notice when Kesten told them he was joining the army, but just a few days later they heard on the radio that the Croatian military had taken a number of Yugoslav barracks, including the one at Plo?e, just the other side of the Pelje?ac peninsula on the mainland.
Suddenly there had been no doubt in anyone’s mind that this was more than skirmishing over borders; it was the prelude to war.
* * *
That night there were no tourists in the restaurant, only locals anxiously discussing what might happen next.
Already the shop shelves in town were emptying of essentials – tinned food, candles, paraffin, medication.
Who knew what would happen and what would be needed?
Young men far less gung ho than Kesten were pledging to defend their homes and their country.
It wasn’t even eight o’clock when Mirjana’s father, Zoran, abruptly announced they would be closing early, and without even properly tidying up, bustled Mirjana and Lloyd upstairs to the apartment, where Kosana had prepared a supper of burek with sliced tomatoes and olives, and hard-boiled eggs.
As they sat at the table, Zoran opened a bottle of Po?ip wine, the good stuff, and poured them each a glass.
“Because it is the last time we will eat together,” he explained. Lloyd went cold at his words. “Moj sin, it is no longer right for you to remain here. Tonight you must pack up your belongings and tomorrow you must leave.”
Lloyd was almost too choked to speak. Zoran had called him his son. He gripped Mirjana’s hand tightly.
“So soon?” His voice felt scratchy.
“Yes.” Zoran sounded firm. “Already life is turning on its head. Who knows what will happen to ferries and flights. At least if you go now you can get to Dubrovnik, and even if there are no planes to England you can take a boat to Bari where you will be safe.”
Mirjana pushed her plate away. “I’m sorry, Mama, I just can’t…”
“Me neither,” Lloyd added. Everything seemed to be in freefall. How could they eat and drink as though nothing was wrong?
“But you must,” Zoran urged. “If only so we break bread together one last time, and raise a toast to meeting again.”
Lloyd picked up his wine and Mirjana followed suit. As four glasses clinked in the centre of the table, Lloyd cleared his throat. “Thank you. Thank you for being a family to me. I will come back – as soon as I can. I promise.”
They stayed a little longer, then Zoran shooed the two of them outside, claiming fresh air would do them good. But the reality was that he understood they would need to say their private goodbyes.
In silence, they passed the fishing boats, then headed along the rock path towards Bilin ?al beach.
The night had an otherworldly quality to it – the moon streaking the water as the tiniest of waves lapped the shore.
It was a shred of continuity to cling to, when everything else was so out of kilter.
Tomorrow they would be saying goodbye, and the war made it uncertain for how long.
“Now it’s come to it, I wish … I wish I’d tried harder to find a way for you to come with me. I can’t bear the thought of you staying, especially if there’s going to be a war.”
Mirjana clamped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. “But it cannot be, we know that. You saw how pale Mama was tonight. Even if it was practical for me to go with you…”
Now, having refused to see it all summer, Lloyd had no doubt they were sleepwalking into agony. There was only one way to get through this, one way to make the pain even remotely bearable. They had to believe in their future.
He lifted her face, and together they looked back across the bay. “The mountains, the sea … they will not change. And it will be the same moon we see. And I will not change, Mirjana. I will come back. And all the time I’m away, I’ll love you.”
“And I you,” she whispered.
In the gallery above the old olive press they lay in each other’s arms, but did not make love. They just held on in the velvet darkness until the church clock chimed midnight, when they walked silently home.
* * *
Lloyd sighed. The same moon was above him now, shimmering in the water in time with the pump of music.
But everything else… Still, it was too late to dwell on it.
It was what it was, and he should get back to the party, if for no other reason than he needed a glass of water.
He was scanning the bar when someone grabbed him from behind, pulling him into the mass of dancers.
Ana. It had to be. Her face was glowing with happiness and exertion.
Then he noticed Meri pushing through the crowd, dragging Natali behind her.
“Got them both!” she said, laughing breathlessly.
“You have to dance to this one – it’s Ana’s favourite.
” Lloyd knew the song too; it took him back to happier times before Jenny fell ill, and an outdoor George Ezra concert they’d been to with Ruth.
The rain may have poured down, but they’d had the most amazing evening.
Memories were everywhere today, and he was learning to keep the good ones and shake off the bad.
By the time the chorus came around he was yelling “shotgun” with the best of them.
Ana wrapped the four of them together into a tight group, arms around each other’s shoulders.
Even Natali looked less self-conscious now, and Lloyd felt friendship and love course through their embrace.
These young women were nothing short of amazing, each in their own way, and he was the luckiest man on earth to have met them.
They danced together for two or three songs until the music slowed, then Lloyd and Natali stepped away, heading for the bar to renew his quest for a drink.
Looking behind him he could see that amongst the couples wrapped up in each other, Ana and Meri were holding each other’s hands while they swayed drunkenly to the music.
“Now d’you see why I had to dump her?” He recognised that voice and turned to see Pajo a few feet ahead of him in the middle of a knot of men, his words slurred and more than loud enough to cut through the music.
“Just look at Ana with that woman. Odvratno pona?anje! Did I ever tell you I saw them together in a gay bar? I should have known then, shouldn’t I? ”
Lloyd stopped in shock at what he had heard, and Natali barrelled into his back. He wasn’t going to let that homophobic little shit get away with this. But he wasn’t as quick as Ana’s father, who pushed his way into the heart of the group.
“Got a problem with my daughter, Glavas? Doesn’t look as though you have a problem with my hospitality.” He eyed the brimming wine glass in Pajo’s hand.
“I didn’t—” Pajo started, but Antun held up his hand.
“Oh yes you did. You shot your mouth off, as per usual, but now you’ll listen to me.
It was a very good day my daughter left you.
Just look at what she’s achieved since: her own boat, her own flourishing business, an independent way of life that makes her happier than you ever would have done.
She’s her own woman now. A pioneer. An example for others to follow where she leads and I, for one, am extremely proud of her. ”
Beside him, Natali began to clap and Lloyd joined in. Antun turned to them. “Knowing Ana as you do, naturally you agree.”
“Best boss I’ve ever had,” Lloyd said.
“And me,” Natali added.
“Long may it remain so. I don’t want anyone tying my Ana down. Certainly not anyone so”—he stared at Pajo with a look of disdain on his face—“mediocre. I want her to continue to fly.”
Pajo was studying his shoes as though they were the most interesting things in the world, and a few of the men around him nodded, while others looked away. Ana’s father clapped his hand on the shoulder of the nearest one.
“Enjoy the rest of the party, lads, but maybe one of you ought to take Pajo home before he gets into any more trouble.”