Ston
Ana crept along the passageway and peeped around Lloyd’s cabin door.
He was fast asleep and snoring gently, his long arm flung towards the photo of Jenny on his bedside shelf.
It was no surprise that he was exhausted so, mug of tea still in hand, she returned the way she had come.
Yesterday had been some roller coaster for him – for all of them really, given he’d more or less collapsed in the galley after telling them his name was clear.
Scared out of her wits, Ana had grabbed his arm and steered him onto a banquette, but it had turned out the stupid, sleep-deprived man hadn’t eaten more than a biscuit or two, so Natali had rushed around making his favourite fried egg sandwich and a large mug of tea and slowly his colour had returned as he’d shared the extraordinary story.
“It’s like in a book,” Natali had whispered, her eyes like saucers. Very different to Ana’s own reaction – an expletive-ridden barrel of vitriol for Kesten – but Lloyd had shaken his head.
“He must have gone through hell that summer, seeing Mirjana and me so much in love.” So she’d told him he was a frigging saint and flounced off, but he’d laughed, and as soon as he’d finished his lunch, had gone to join Kristina in the library.
Having reassured herself that Lloyd was all right, Ana could put off her visit to her parents no longer.
To stop herself backing out, she’d called her mother yesterday afternoon to ask if they could set aside time before lunch to talk about her future.
There’d been a short silence before her mama had agreed, but what did that silence mean? Was she overthinking it?
The drive through the vineyards to the village had never felt so long, and it had little to do with the summer traffic, some of which was threading its way through the narrow streets to join her father’s trip boats.
The little harbour was packed with cars so she parked the jeep across the double doors of the workshop, then walked slowly up the shaded path towards the terrace.
There was no turning back now. She just had to remember that whatever was said, nothing could break the bonds of love between her and her parents.
This summer she’d come to realise that was a blessing rather than a god-given right. She knew how lucky she was.
Her mother and father were sitting at the table under the vine, which was lush with leaves and hung with dusky dessert grapes, full and almost ripe.
One of her father’s greatest pleasures was plucking one straight from the bunch and popping it into his mouth, and she felt more than a little tug at her heartstrings as she recalled him lifting her up when she was tiny so she could do the same.
She kissed her parents then sat at the end of the table as her mother poured from the jug of iced lemonade between them, asking how her week had gone.
“Very good. Very good indeed. Lloyd’s name has been cleared,” she said, and told them the outline of what had happened the day before.
“I only hope we can make up sufficient ground to persuade the powers that be that the pilot’s a success.
But if how busy the library was yesterday is anything to go by, that shouldn’t be a problem. ”
“So you’d do it again?” her father asked.
“Yes. Without a doubt. My share of the government grant covers my repayments on Dida Krila for the year, and more, so it rather underpins my future.”
“The future you want to talk about?” asked Mama. It wasn’t any of the openings that Ana had rehearsed, but it was as good a start as any, and it had happened all by itself. So much for her constant fretting about the right way to begin the conversation.
“I wanted to spend time this summer making some decisions, but as it happens I’ve barely had a moment to think.
But nevertheless … Tata, Mama, I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me these last few years, and the fact that you’ve always wanted to welcome me into the business, but … it isn’t for me.”
“So what will you do?” her mother asked, but Tata hushed her.
“Ana, please understand. We never intended to put pressure on you to join us and I really hope you didn’t see it that way.
We just wanted to make it clear that it was an option, something you could come back to at any time if things didn’t work out elsewhere.
” He shrugged. “A safety net, I suppose.”
Could that be right? He’d used exactly the same words as Lloyd. Lloyd who was a father himself. She fingered the glass in her hand. She’d need to think this one through properly later, but for now the most important thing was to keep the conversation moving forwards. “You really don’t mind?”
“In practical terms, I’m hoping you won’t drop off the radar completely.
It’s good to have you around to help catch up with the paperwork over the winter – you know what a mess I make of it.
But again, if you decide you want a clean break then I could always employ someone. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
“Of course I’ll help out when you need me, it’s just … I don’t think I’ll ever want the responsibility of running things. I know it sounds pathetic, and perhaps I should have grown out of it by now, but I don’t want to be tied down.”
“I understand,” said her mother. “Probably more than you realise. You want to be on the water, and in that way you are so like my father. How he ever stayed around long enough to have two children I’ll never know.
” She laughed. “We barely saw him, but you … you were his little soulmate, so I suppose, in my heart of hearts, I always knew…”
“You’re not disappointed?”
Mama looked a little unsure, but her father burst out, “Of course not! We’re so damned proud of you, Ana, of everything you’ve achieved, of how independent you are.
You’ve always worried that you can’t make decisions, but as a matter of fact you’ve made some really tough ones, because you’ve never taken the easy way out of anything.
Most of the village girls would have married Pajo, had a brood of children, and done bits and bobs for the business.
But no, you’re different, you’ve followed your own dreams, and that’s really rather wonderful. ”
Instead of looking regretful, Tata’s eyes were shining with pride. She glanced across at her mother, who nodded.
“All we want is for you to be happy.”
“I want to make you happy too,” Ana replied, “and it was hard to come to terms with the fact that my choices probably weren’t the ones you’d have made for me…”
“No!” Her father slapped his palm on the table. “It’s your life, Ana. Your happiness. We make our own.” He reached for his wife’s hand.
Ana closed her eyes. “Even without grandchildren?”
“Even that. The family name might continue with the business after my days or it might not. Legacy is not so important. In fact, it’s not important at all. It’s how you live your life while you’re on this earth that matters. That’s how you should be remembered.”
Oh my god, they were so bloody wonderful, making it this easy for her. Parenting was such a tough job – too tough for her – and they were absolutely ace at it. “Thank you. I mean, that sounds inadequate but I’m just so damned grateful to have the best parents in the world.”
Her father winked. “I don’t know about that, but perhaps now you know you can stop pleasing us, you’ll stop trying to please other people too.”
“I’m trying. Really I am.”
“So tell us,” asked Mama, “what are your plans?”
“In truth, they’re a little up in the air.
I suppose I’m still searching, in a way.
But if the library runs for the next few years, and if I can continue to charter for people I actually like …
and there are other opportunities I’m learning about.
There’s a very swanky holiday let on Lopud whose guests sometimes want a day trip on a boat and they’ve asked if I’m interested.
They can’t be the only place, either. There’s that boutique hotel on ?ipan, for a start. ”
“So not one, but a number of different income streams? I think that will suit you down to the ground, Ana. And if money’s tight, well—”
“No, Tata. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll live off what I earn. Anyway, it’s not as though you charge me rent for my room here.”
“You make enough money and I might!”
“Our own daughter? Over my dead body!”
Laughter filled the terrace, bathing Ana in its warmth.
Everything had been so easy that now she was wondering why she’d been worrying about it for so long.
But in so many ways she was a different person to the one who’d helped Lloyd to load the books onto the boat back in Dubrovnik those few short weeks ago.
A more confident one, despite the cock-ups along the way.
Boy, it had been some learning curve. A learning curve that was just the beginning.
And that made her fizz with excitement.