Chapter 26
AMBER
The next morning, at breakfast, Barney announces that he’s going to catch the sea taxi to Thalassia to visit the weekly market.
‘But we were going to spend the day at Kalypso Bay, remember? Maria’s making a picnic,’ Simone says.
‘You won’t miss me. Besides, I have a present for the birthday girl to buy.’
She brightens. ‘In that case, you have my permission to leave. Just make sure you buy me something nice.’ She winks at him.
‘The boats usually leave on the half-hour,’ Felix says, not looking up from his paper. ‘Check with Maria before you go, in case she needs anything.’
A look of annoyance crosses Barney’s face and I can’t say I blame him. Felix’s peremptory tone would put my back up, too. But Felix is oblivious and no one else seems to notice.
I think of the hastily wrapped gift set from The Body Shop I’d bought as a birthday present for Simone and realise it’s not going to cut it.
‘Mind if I tag along?’ I ask Barney. ‘I need to pick up a few things.’
Once again, irritation scores his features, then he shrugs and says, ‘Sure. Anyone else?’
‘Dom?’ I ask. ‘Want to come?’
He shakes his head. ‘Sorry, angel. It’s far too hot to tramp round a market looking at tat. Besides, I promised I’d help Simone crunch the numbers for her partner pitch.’
‘You did.’ Simone grins, like she’s just won a competition I didn’t know I was taking part in.
‘No worries. I’d best go and get ready.’ Not usually one for public displays of affection, I decide to make an exception, leaning over and kissing Dominic full on the lips before pushing my chair back and strolling from the room.
I stifle the urge to stop at the door and ask Simone, ‘Who’s the winner now? ’
* * *
Barney and I catch the eleven o’clock sea taxi to Thalassia.
Apart from the skipper, a wiry old sea dog with a thatch of white hair under a faded navy fisherman’s cap, we’re the only people on the boat.
Barney has been monosyllabic since the moment we left the villa, which suits me just fine.
I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of the spray on my face and the dip and roll of the little boat as it putters through the waves.
After half an hour we’re pulling up in Thalassia’s small harbour. Just as I’m wondering if Barney’s going to suggest we have lunch together, he looks at his watch and says, ‘Meet you back here at a quarter to three?’
‘Sure.’
He pauses, then pulls something from his back pocket. It’s a shopping list. ‘Don’t suppose you could pick up the things Maria needs?’
‘Um, OK. Of course.’
There are at least a dozen things on the list and I wait for him to hand me some money to pay for it all, but he just says breezily, ‘Thanks, you’re a star,’ and strides off without waiting for a reply.
I watch him go, with his Fred Perry polo shirt, tailored chino shorts and box-fresh leather deck shoes.
The Ray-Bans and the TAG Heuer watch. The expensive-looking crossbody messenger bag.
Would it even occur to him that a single item of his clothing would blow my entire monthly food budget?
Of course it wouldn’t, because he’s probably never stopped to wonder how the other half live.
The half who make the clothes and clean the streets and look after the sick and elderly…
I give my head a little shake. It’s too hot to get worked up about it. I can’t change anything, anyway. I haul my bag onto my shoulder, thank the boat guy and head across the small quay to the town.
The market is noisy, colourful and teeming with locals and tourists.
I wander past stalls selling plump tomatoes and glossy red peppers, sun-bleached onions and aubergines the colour of polished amethyst. I pause at a stall selling Greek trinkets.
The kind of things Dominic would probably dismiss as tat.
Worry beads and hand-painted ceramics, natural sea sponges and dreamcatchers.
I buy a set of pretty lapis lazuli worry beads for Nessa as a joke, because she never worries about anything.
I fish the shopping list out of my pocket and scan it.
Two whole chickens, a kilo of squid, tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, feta, olive oil, a couple of loaves of bread and some eggs and coffee.
I’m hunting for a fish stall when I catch a shimmer of blue out of the corner of my eye.
I turn to see a tiny stall strung with dozens of pendants, bracelets and dreamcatchers, each set with concentric circles of white and cobalt blue.
They are vibrant and beautiful, but I’ve already bought worry beads for Nessa and I’m conscious that Maria’s food shop is going to cost a small fortune. I can’t afford to treat myself.
‘Mati,’ says the woman behind the stall, picking a necklace from a hook and holding it towards me so it flashes in the sunlight. ‘Very good. Very powerful.’
Mati. I cast my mind back to my Duolingo lessons but draw a blank and shrug, about to walk away, when her arm shoots out and grabs my elbow, making me jump.
‘It is amulet. Will watch over you. Give you protection, yes?’
‘Protection?’ I frown. ‘Against what?’
She glances over her shoulder as if she’s checking no one’s in earshot.
‘The evil eye.’ Her grip on me tightens and I fight the urge to wriggle out of her grasp.
She tuts, as if I’m being deliberately obtuse.
‘The gaze of jealous people,’ she hisses.
‘People who envy you,’ she adds, to hit home the point.
She thrusts the necklace at me. ‘This all-seeing eye will keep you safe from the evil eye. Only ten euros. Two for eighteen. Credit card is fine.’
It seems easier to give in. Besides, it’s only ten euros and it is pretty. And if it shields me from Simone’s icy stares and Willow’s dagger looks, it’ll be the best ten euros I’ve ever spent. I reach for my purse and the old woman’s weathered face splits into a toothy grin.
‘Two?’ she asks hopefully.
‘Just one.’ I fish about in my purse for a ten-euro note and she asks if I’d like the necklace gift-wrapped.
‘It’s fine, thanks. I’ll wear it now.’ I reach behind my neck to undo the clasp of my amber necklace. My fingers scrabble at bare skin. My necklace – Gran’s necklace – is gone.