Chapter Thirty-Eight
Thirty-eight
Andreas had been married.
Married, and he hadn’t said a word.
He’d looked at Skye with disappointment, frustration, even anger for not opening up to him. And yet this was what he’d kept from her?
“Did you know?” she asked Joy as they made their way back along the winding mountain pathway.
“No, but come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever asked him outright. So he hasn’t exactly lied, has he?”
Heat flared in Skye’s cheeks as she recalled doing exactly that when Joy had first asked her.
“I guess so,” she allowed. “But we’ve had so many conversations over the past six weeks—he could have told me at any time.”
She stumbled in her haste, the bag containing her new sandals bashing against her legs.
“He must’ve had his reasons,” Joy said. “Maybe it was a painful breakup? A raw subject for him. He might’ve been unfaithful, or she could have. Relationships are always bloody complicated. Even me and Bobs had our trials over the years.”
“But Andreas is so direct,” Skye persisted. “All this…secrecy, it doesn’t sit right with me. It’s not like him.”
“No,” Joy agreed flatly. “It isn’t.”
Skye stopped short. Joy took a few more paces before turning back, her brow furrowed.
“What are you d—”
“Maybe we should go back,” Skye said.
“Back where? Not all the way up there?”
“You don’t have to come. Go on ahead and wait for me in town.”
Joy drew in a long breath and folded her arms.
“You want to ask his ex what happened?”
“Maybe.” Skye stared at the stony ground.
“And you reckon she’ll be quite happy to spill her guts to you—a complete stranger?”
Skye puffed air into her cheeks.
“ ’Cause I wouldn’t,” Joy added. “Especially not when I was in the middle of leading a tour. And you know what I’d do the minute you walked off with your tail between your nethers? I’d be straight on the phone to Andreas.”
Skye conceded that she had a point.
“Just ask him yourself,” Joy said with mild exasperation.
“But he’s been acting so cold toward me.”
“And you reckon going behind his back to gossip about him with his ex will help that?”
“Stop being so reasonable,” Skye said, groaning her way into a helpless laugh. “You’re supposed to be the naughty one, remember?”
“Yeah, I know. But now it looks like I’ll be handing over that crown to Andreas.”
They did not linger long in Chora. The early-afternoon ferry had docked, bringing scores of daytime tourists along the road from Karavostasis.
“We’ll never get a bloody taxi,” Joy said. “Shall I give the girls a call, see if one of them will come and get us? I don’t much fancy the walk, do you?”
“It’s far too hot,” Skye agreed.
Joy dug her phone out, trying first Dusty and then Louisa.
“No answer,” she said.
“What about Mia?”
“She’s working today. I could try Andre—”
“No,” Skye interrupted. “I’ll ring Victoria.”
Twenty minutes later, they were buckled into the 4x4, the leather seats cool against the heat of the day.
“I’m glad you called,” Victoria said. “I know things have been…that I’ve been a bit quiet. I want you to know, it’s not on you. I just have some stuff going on.”
“No need to explain,” Skye assured her. “I hope we didn’t pull you away from anything important?”
“Fat chance of that.” Victoria leaned over the wheel, checking for oncoming traffic. The indicator clicked in the quiet. In the passenger seat, Skye caught the edge in her voice and wondered at the sudden shift in tone.
“You look nice,” she said. Gone were the leggings and sneakers, replaced by a dress the color of sunlit sea. Her dark blond hair was loose, brushed smooth, and gold shimmered at her ears, throat, and wrists.
“We were supposed to be going out for lunch,” Victoria said, pressing her foot to the gas pedal with enough force to make the tires screech. “But then Adam had an emergency at work.”
The way she said emergency made it sound like anything but.
“We could all go for lunch?” Joy suggested. “Why don’t we stop at the taverna on the way back?”
Victoria flipped down her sun visor.
“That’s kind of you,” she said in a brittle voice. “But I wouldn’t be the best company. I’ve been a bit up and down since— Well, since what feels like forever, to be honest. I guess I’m just homesick or something.”
“Are you sure it’s only that?” Skye asked gently.
Victoria drummed her fingers.
“The thing is,” she said, staring straight ahead, “we’ve had a rough time of it, Adam and me.
We’ve been trying to start a family for years now, and despite spending a small goddamn fortune on IVF, we’re yet to stay pregnant more than a few months.
The other day, when you mentioned a school, I don’t know, I just flipped out a bit, you know?
Like, I didn’t want to be reminded of what we didn’t have.
You probably think I’m an awful person.”
“No, no—God no,” Skye said. “I totally understand.”
“Sounds like you’ve really been through it,” Joy added. “Poor little chook. Bobby and me, we tried. Never got very far, mind you. If you ever want to talk—”
“Thanks.” Victoria shook her head. “But let’s just drop it. I’ll only get all maudlin on you both.”
Beyond the windows, the landscape was a blur.
A journey that should have taken fifteen minutes took less than ten, and Skye winced as they rounded the corner up to the hillside and almost collided with two people dragging suitcases.
Victoria pulled up outside her house at an angle, dust pluming around the truck.
Skye hopped out, followed by Joy, the two of them staring after Victoria as she stalked away without a word.
“Crikey,” Joy said. “I wouldn’t want to be in Adam’s thongs tonight.”
Skye wheeled around.
“Adam wears thongs?”
“Yeah, on his feet, you ’nana.”
“Thongs, as in knickers made mostly of string?”
Joy untangled her sunglasses from her frizzy hair.
“As in flip-flops or whatever you bloody Brits call them.”
“Oh…” Skye said, the word vibrating over a laugh. “That makes far more sense.”
“Listen,” Joy said as Skye struggled to control her mirth. “I need a piddle. Beers back at yours in ten?”
“Mine is full of paint fumes,” Skye replied. “I’ll come to you.”
She watched Joy walk across the hillside, her laughter draining away as thoughts of Andreas intruded.
There was no sign of his truck, though she hadn’t expected there to be.
Disappointment was fast becoming her companion, pushing its way to the front, ahead of the fear and anxiety that had plagued her for so many months.
She glanced up at the ferocious sun, but the sky offered no answers.
A movement caught her attention. It was Tigri emerging from the side of the house and sidling toward her. The cat rubbed his slim body against her leg, mewling with the unique indignance that only cats could muster.
“You daft animal,” she said affectionately, stooping to stroke him. Tigri writhed for a moment, then he froze, yellow eyes fixed on a point in the near distance, fur rising as he arched his back.
“What’s the matter?” she asked, toppling backward as the cat bolted, his claws catching her ankles on his way.
Skye winced, dabbing at the scratches. Blood smeared her fingertips.
She looked up, squinting into the distance.
Not one figure, but two.
A man and a woman.
Her breath caught.
No.
It couldn’t be.