Chapter Thirty-Two
Thirty-two
Joy used the sleeve of her turquoise beach shirt to dab at her eyes.
They were still in Skye’s bedroom, sitting side by side, the sunlight a fallen sail across the stripped wooden boards.
“Bloody hell,” Joy said at last.
“I know.” Skye put her face in her hands. “The whole situation is such a mess. You probably think I should’ve stayed, stood up to him, and—”
“No.” Joy put a steadying hand on her knee. “I think you did exactly what you had to, exactly what that bastard forced you to do. I could kill him,” she added harshly. “I would, given half a chance.”
Skye lowered her hands and let out a helpless laugh.
“I was weak,” she said. “I am weak.”
“Stop that,” Joy scolded. “You’re here, aren’t you? You escaped. That must’ve taken guts.”
Skye glanced down at her friend’s hand, still resting on her knee.
She wore rings on every finger, including her thumb, a jumble of silver, amethyst, and amber surrounding the plain gold wedding band.
Skye’s own band was somewhere in the depths of the Aegean.
She had kept hold of her diamond engagement ring, though, fully prepared to sell it if or when her funds began to run out.
“I didn’t tell Martyn about this place,” she said.
“The house, the island, the lottery—he doesn’t know about any of it, or at least he didn’t.
But now, with the story being in the newspaper, it’s only a matter of time before he tracks me down.
He could be on his way here already, and if he does come and finds me, then he—he’ll be so angry. That’s why I have to go.”
She got up from the bed. Restlessness had taken hold, and it felt as if the room was shrinking around her.
“You might hate me for saying this,” Joy began, “but if you leave, he wins.”
“Finding me is the only way he wins,” Skye argued. “If I stay here, I’ll only lose.”
“Lose what?”
“Everything,” Skye said, the word pushed out on a breath. She leaned toward her friend, willing her to understand. “Everything I’ve built here, he’ll ruin it.”
Joy continued to meet her gaze.
“Ruin it how?”
“You don’t understand,” Skye said, her voice catching. “Martyn’s a master manipulator. He won’t just turn up here all guns blazing. He’ll have a plan, a way to destroy me if I don’t do as he says.”
“He can’t force you to do anything,” Joy said, her tone gentle but firm. “We won’t let him.”
Skye shook her head and began to pace up and down.
“Things are different now,” Joy went on. “You’re not in his house anymore. This isn’t his domain, it’s not even his country. If he does come, he’ll have no power here. Can you imagine what Andreas would do if some fella turned up making threats against you?”
Skye halted abruptly.
“I don’t want Andreas involved,” she said. “I don’t want him to know anything about this.”
Joy’s lips parted slightly. She pressed her palms flat against her thighs.
“Can I ask why?”
“Because it isn’t his fight,” Skye replied. “It’s not his problem to solve, and it’s not yours, either. If I go now, the problem goes away with me.”
Joy tilted her head, the corners of her mouth tight. She was not convinced, that much was glaringly clear. Skye felt the guilt begin to swallow her like quicksand.
“The last thing I want is to be a burden to any of you,” she mumbled. “You came here for a quiet life, remember?”
At this, Joy gave in to a small smile.
“In all the weeks you’ve known me, have you ever known me to be remotely quiet?
” she said. “Truth is, I love being in the middle of everyone’s business.
Bobby used to joke that he’d order a giant bug swatter if I didn’t stop buzzing around all our friends, getting involved in their lives.
I didn’t come to Greece to be lonely,” she went on. “And I don’t think you did, either.”
“I came because I won the house,” Skye said.
“Yeah, but it wasn’t only the house you came for, was it? I read the paperwork, too, you know. The whole idea of the scheme was to bring new life to this small village, build a community. You can’t very well live in a place like Ano Meria and not become close to your neighbors.”
“I know that, but—”
“You’re a part of this community now, chook. It’s your home, and we—me and the girls, and Vicky and Adam, and Theo and George, and Andreas—we’re your family. Nobody can hurt you here because we won’t let them.”
“I don’t want to drag anyone else into my mess,” Skye said again, the wretchedness making her weary.
“You didn’t cause this mess,” Joy insisted. “He did, that bloody mongrel husband of yours.”
Skye turned away. Beyond the square window, a bird soared, skimming its wings along the current of the wind, free in a way she no longer remembered how to be.
“There’d be so much I’d miss if I left,” she murmured. “The view, the mountains, the sea, the sunshine; waking up to the sound of church bells; the smell of wild herbs and the early evening chorus of the crickets—and that’s before I get to all of you.”
Joy came to stand beside her.
“If you don’t want anyone else to know about Martyn, that’s fine by me,” she said. “I’ll keep your secret for you, and if he does show up here, I’ll help you get rid of him.”
Skye gave her a sidelong look.
“Get rid of him?”
“Yeah,” Joy replied. “Not in the Mafia way, obviously. I’ll just have a quiet word, woman to brute, tell him to sling it or else.”
Skye tried to imagine that precise scenario and found she couldn’t.
If she left the island tomorrow, boarded a morning ferry, and abandoned her little house, she’d need to have a destination in mind.
Going back to her mother’s place in England wasn’t an option, and anywhere else would require spending money she couldn’t spare.
To run now would be condemning herself to a lifetime of running, of living with fear at the center of everything.
Joy was right; that path constituted a win for only one person, and it certainly wasn’t her.
She thought of Katerina, who must have been scared by the prospect of war. Many Greeks had fled before the occupying forces caught up with them, but not her—not Kat.
She had stayed.
Skye crossed the room and picked up her suitcase, laying it flat on the bed.
“Does this mean you’ve changed your mind? Joy asked.
“It means I’ve run out of options,” Skye said. “I figure I have to face Martyn somewhere, and it may as well be here.”
“You won’t have to do it alone,” Joy assured her. “I’ll be right here, and Andreas, too, if—”
“Not Andreas.” Skye was firm. “I mean it.”
Joy’s face fell, though she managed a weak smile.
“He cares about you, you know?” she said. “He cares about all of us. That’s just who he is. A good man, a man you can trust. They’re not all bad.”
“I don’t think he’s bad,” Skye said. “I just…Promise me you won’t tell him?”
Joy breathed in deeply, pressing her lips together before nodding once, almost to herself.
“All right,” she said. “I promise.”