Sailing from Ston to Koločep
Dida Krila’s motor puttered gently beneath them as they passed smoothly down the long channel that led from Ston to the sea, the gentlest of breezes finding its way through the galley windows, which Lloyd had opened wide.
In a drunken moment last Saturday, he’d rashly promised Meri an English Sunday roast, but it was far too hot for that.
She’d have to make do with chicken salad instead.
Already the delicious aroma of herbs, lemon and roasting chicken was seeping through the oven door.
He’d stopped counting the number of times he’d had to send Obi back to her basket, and not because she was looking for Natali, who had gone to visit Baka.
She seemed to be under his feet wherever he turned, her big brown eyes peeping out from under her floppy canine fringe, the epitome of cupboard-loving cuteness.
He’d never owned a dog in his life, but perhaps when he went home he might get one.
When he went home, or … if he went home.
Well, of course he’d go back to London to see Ruth, and he absolutely could not wait.
But after that? Possibilities were opening up for him, which was something he couldn’t have imagined would happen a little over forty-eight hours ago.
Mirjana discovering the truth had changed, well, everything.
He pulled a plump, sweet onion from the vegetable basket and, having sloughed off its skin, began to slice it for the salad.
Even the smallest thing seemed so much easier now, but it did feel a little strange not having the dead weight of Mirjana’s accusations on his shoulders.
It was as though his world had spun through a hundred and eighty degrees and left him feeling rather disorientated.
On Friday afternoon he’d been on such a high, and while he’d been chatting to Kristina in the scant gaps between library visitors, had told her about the part-time language teaching post the headmaster on Mljet had talked about.
To his surprise, she’d asked if he was going to take it, but he’d told her it was only half a job, if that.
And if she could find him the other half?
She’d gone on to explain that there were plenty of opportunities on Kor?ula, not least because Dubrovnik University was moving some of its courses to the island.
It was certainly food for thought, but he needed to get his head around it first, then talk to Ruth.
Being based partly on Kor?ula would probably bring him into Mirjana’s orbit, and whether that was a good thing he had no idea.
Even if he hadn’t imagined the tiniest of sparks was still there, it was highly unlikely she’d feel the same.
But this wasn’t about her. It was about him and what he wanted.
And more than anything, that was to get back into a classroom and teach – something that was being offered to him here in Croatia, and would at the very least prove difficult, if not impossible, back at home.
With the salad complete, the potatoes on the hob, and the chicken cooling, he clicked his fingers to Obi, then pulled some beers from the fridge before making his way up to the fly deck.
“Lunch won’t be long,” he told the girls, “but there’s time for a drink first.” He turned to Meri. “Not a traditional British roast, I’m afraid – it’s far too hot.”
She pursed her lips. “You disappoint me. But men normally do.”
“Then I apologise, on behalf of us all.” He swept a low bow, almost overbalancing.
“Don’t spill those beers,” said Ana.
“No chance of that.” He handed them around. “Cheers.”
They chinked bottles together, and Lloyd sank down next to Meri.
“We were just talking about Ana’s future,” she said. “What do you reckon the library’s chances are now that your little local difficulty on Kor?ula has been sorted?”
“Better. We were run off our feet on Friday afternoon.” He swigged his beer.
“I think the local organiser felt a bit guilty about the whole thing, although she has no reason to, so she pulled out all the stops to get the kids there. And once people have books, they’ll need to bring them back.
And hopefully they’ll borrow more. Then, if we can persuade Ivana that the whole summer on Kor?ula would have been like that, we’re laughing. ”
“And if she doesn’t throw me off the contract…” said Ana glumly.
“Whyever would she? As far as she’s concerned, I was the problem, not you.”
“Yes, but I haven’t handled it very well with her at times and I really don’t think she likes me.”
“Pah!” said Meri. “She doesn’t like anyone. She’s known for it. But she does like to be associated with something really successful.”
They’d come to the end of the channel, and Ana turned her face into the breeze, assessing it. “We could sail,” she said. “Lloyd? Up for it?”
“After lunch maybe? The potatoes will only be another few minutes and then we can eat.”
They took in the vista that was opening out in front of them, the only sounds the low murmur of the engine and the wind dancing through the wires.
Here the sea was almost a circular lake, enclosed on one side by the parched hills of the mainland, and on the other by fingers and dots of islands, some so tiny they were little more than rocks.
A couple of yachts scudded across the blue, and ahead of them Lloyd could see a small cruise ship pass the northwestern tip of ?ipan and turn into Slano Bay.
All was peaceful, all was calm. What a place this would be to live.
“So what happens to you, come September?” Meri asked, almost as though she could read his mind.
“First thing will be to go home and see my daughter. After that, I don’t know.
I had thought of maybe trying to see if I could get work as a supply teacher, you know, filling in when people are sick, but there are so many hoops I’d have to jump through.
” He stared into the distance. “But I’m also beginning to wonder if it might be possible to come back to Croatia. ”
“Lloyd! That would be incredible,” said Ana. “What would you do? Take that job on Mljet?”
“Yes. I mentioned it to Kristina yesterday and she thinks there might be opportunities on Kor?ula too. Language teaching, conversation classes, maybe even some private tutoring. But I need to find out what Ruth thinks about the idea first. Plus, there’s the question of how workable it would be in practical terms as there’s no direct ferry between Mljet and Kor?ula in the winter. ”
“That’s easy. Keep a car at Prapatno. The ferry from there to Sobra runs all year, as does the Orebi? to Kor?ula one.” Ana grinned. “You could even live in Ston, nice and close to me. There are plenty of empty holiday apartments out of season.”
Lloyd looked thoughtful. “In which case, I might be able to provide a base for Natali if she needs one. I really hope she decides to study to improve her qualifications, and that way I’d be around to help.”
“She is a worry.”
“How come?” Meri asked, so Ana explained that it was hard for Natali to find accommodation and anything other than the lowest paid work with Obi in tow.
“Does she have to keep the dog?”
“Sranje, yes. That dog’s her family. Her mother sounds like a manipulative bitch, and her father disappeared years ago.
I’m keeping her on for a while once the library finishes, but it’s only for a matter of weeks.
I’ve got a charter she can help with, then she can stay aboard and do some maintenance.
” Ana sighed. “After that, I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“You’re trying to make plans for her,” Meri said, “but maybe she has plans for herself. That’s typical of you, Ana. Just when you’re free of one set of ties you find another.”
Ana glowered at Meri, but Lloyd stepped in.
“Meri’s right. The best we can do is to keep talking to Natali about this, let her know we’re here for her, and that she doesn’t have to leave everything to her Auntie Stela’s karma.
” He stood and stretched. “Right. I need to rescue those potatoes before they boil dry. Meri, if you don’t mind, I’ll need a hand to bring everything up. ”
She followed him down the steps, stopping at the bottom. “Lloyd?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you’re thinking about staying. Ana will miss you if you go.”
“And I’ll miss her. And Natali. I’ve only known them a couple of months and yet…”
“You know what they say about friendships forged in fire?” Lloyd shook his head. “That they’re as strong as the ones that have weathered the test of time.”
Lloyd felt his eyes mist up. “I hope so, Meri, I really do.”