Friday 15th September
“N o, agápi mou , let me drive,” Zina’s mother said, picking up the car keys. “You work so hard. It will be good for you to relax this evening and have a few drinks.”
How typically thoughtful of Mama, and anyway, Zina was too mentally exhausted to argue, so she settled into the passenger seat while they bumped along the track to collect Ellen and Susan.
When Zina had mentioned the plan for a girls’ night out to see Santorini’s annual firework display, Panora had swung into action, arranging for them to watch from the roof terrace of her cousin Eleni’s house in Firostefani on the rim of the caldera. Zina had been doubly pleased because as far as she knew, this was the first contact Mama had made with her family since her husband’s funeral. Maybe, just maybe, The Retreat House was doing her mother some good. If that was indeed the case, it was the one bright spot in Zina’s life at the moment.
Once they were on their way, with Jo following behind in her hire car, Zina snuggled down in her seat and closed her eyes. Under normal conditions the drive would take half an hour, but they’d left early because of the crowds that would doubtless be gathering in the cliffside towns and villages to watch the display.
Zina just hoped it would be enough time to get her head into party mode. This business with Lambros was tougher than tough. She’d never expected him to huff off and sleep on the terrace– and worse, stay there. She was sure it wouldn’t be long before her mother realised what was going on, and she couldn’t bear the questions and the minute analysis of her marriage that would surely follow. Especially as she was completely without answers.
She’d thought she knew her husband inside out, but this was an entirely new reaction. His temper had always been a match for hers, but he’d never been one to keep an argument going, and she realised, a little guiltily, she’d been relying on that. Relying on him to make the first move towards reconciliation, which she could graciously accept, as long as he promised never to put the farm ahead of her again. Skatá! He’d married her , not it . She had every right to be the most important thing in his life.
Lambros apologising would be a win, but right now she’d take a temporary truce. Breathing space from her tangled emotions. But Lambros was keeping out of her way. It wasn’t hard, given she was working all hours and so was he, but when he’d rounded the corner and seen her on the farm track he’d rammed that stupid sun hat of his down on his head and walked in the other direction, the message loud and clear.
“So what do you think, Zina?” Ellen asked, making her jump in her seat.
“Sorry, I was miles away. Having a little doze if I’m honest.”
“If an early buffet supper every Friday would give you and Ekaterini more time off?”
Right at this moment, more time in the farmhouse with Lambros and her mother was the last thing Zina wanted. Best be non-committal. “I’ll ask Ekaterini what she thinks.”
After squeezing both cars into the parking lot in front of Eleni’s husband’s bakery, the small party walked up the slope to the village square, the setting sun colouring the walls of Agios Gerasimos church a warm ochre. The Greek flag on its blue and white striped pole rippled overhead, largely ignored by the noisy crowds heading for the terrace looking over the caldera.
Trying not to lose each other in the mass of humanity, they threaded their way up the narrow street past restaurants and bars buzzing with music and light, the aroma of freshly grilled meat filling the air. Every table was full, with people queuing outside in the vain hope of a seat, and Zina was more than relieved to reach the wrought-iron gates of Cousin Eleni’s house.
After introductions in the terracotta-tiled living area, Eleni led them to the roof, just as the last of the light drained from the sky, the faintest orange glow a smudge on the horizon. Fairy lights were wrapped around the potted palms, and hung from the fringes of the rattan awning, which rustled gently in the warm breeze. It was the perfect vantage point, with a clear view of the caldera over the single-storey building across the street. Zina snapped a few pictures for her Instagram. If she got some of the fireworks as well she could eke them out over the next week or so. It was hard to feel particularly enthusiastic about it at the moment, but she couldn’t let it drift completely.
A buffet table was laden with sweet and savoury treats of every kind, and Zina was glad they had brought so much wine. The pastries had most likely come from Savvas’s bakery, but their generosity was eye-watering. There was enough to feed twenty, not just the small party from the retreat. When Zina thanked Eleni, she gave her a hug, saying how wonderful it was to see Panora again after all these months.
With that she rushed downstairs to make iced coffees for the drivers, and Zina made her way towards Diana, who was standing alone gazing out over the caldera.
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it?” Diana said. “All the little boats on the water are like fireflies. Thank you so much for bringing us here.”
“This is my mother’s doing, and I’m doubly glad because she hasn’t seen her cousin since Babá’s funeral last autumn.”
Diana nodded. “It is hard, getting out and about again, but I think everyone finds their own way. Eventually. I do worry about Sophie when the time comes. Lawrence was a larger-than-life personality when he was well; he was a Member of Parliament for years and he’s gone downhill so fast. But at least she finally seems more settled here. She’s stopped snipping at people, anyway.”
“Snipping?” Zina wasn’t entirely sure what Diana meant.
“Being a bit short-tempered. You know, almost rude, but not quite. I felt like I spent the whole of the first week apologising for her, and it’s great that she’s beginning to relax. You’ve created something really special, Zina.”
Jo joined them, carrying a tall glass of iced coffee which was thick with cream-coloured foam. “I totally agree. The retreat is a brilliant environment to work in. It’s so calm and beautiful– not to mention the food. The whole place has… I don’t know, a generosity of spirit that reflects your personality.”
Zina felt quite choked by Jo’s words. To hear them from someone as genuine as her meant the world. “That’s just the loveliest thing to say. Thank you. I wanted to make it special and I’m so glad it’s hit the mark.”
“It’s the perfect size too. Just perfect. Everyone can get to know each other and for me, well, I think I’d have found a larger group a bit too daunting.”
“But don’t you have to speak at launches and the like?” Diana asked.
“Not if I can help it. I don’t know how Karmela stands up in front of a room full of students every day.”
Karmela wandered over. “Did I hear my name?”
“Only in praise and wonder,” Diana said with a laugh. “How you have the confidence to lecture.”
“It is not confidence. It is knowing your subject inside out, then you are ready for anything. Much like you do, Jo. And you have a great way of putting your knowledge across, making it relevant to each of us, and that is a real gift.”
Jo’s smile seemed to light her face from the inside out. Much as her words had made Zina feel. She liked everyone staying at The Retreat House right now, but their habit of chatting most nights made her feel a little closer to Karmela and Jo. How could you not like Karmela, with her natural warmth and interest in other people? And Jo had such a sweet personality… If only, if only, they weren’t her guests, then she could confide in them about Lambros. It was so very lonely not having anyone to share the awfulness with. Certainly not her so-called friends in Athens. They’d probably just tell her she was being a drama queen again.
Forcing her mind back to the conversation, Zina feigned interest as Karmela asked Diana whether she had finished the tricky scene on which she had sought the group’s advice, nodding enthusiastically as Diana outlined her progress.
Once she had finished speaking, Zina turned to Jo. “How is your new book going?”
For a split second it seemed that Jo gripped her coffee a little more tightly, but then she smiled and said, “Fine, thank you.” It wasn’t Jo’s normal smile, but perhaps Zina was imagining it. Had she seen a slipping mask because she herself was wearing one?
Eleni bustled up. “It’s almost time. Fill your glasses, everyone.”
The little group broke up, leaving Zina alone for a moment before her mother joined her, wrapping an arm over her shoulder.
“I have to tell you, Zina, I’m having a wonderful evening. For the first time without your father… Perhaps… perhaps the worst is over?”
Zina squeezed her back. “I hope so, Mama. I really do.” This was wonderful, wonderful, but instead of being filled with joy, Zina found herself awash with her own misery. This would not do. Mama’s newfound happiness deserved better.
“I don’t want you to think…” Her mother hesitated. “I mean, I still miss him terribly and some days I feel so wretched I can’t even bear to leave the house. But on others, well, I think I need to make more of them. Yes?”
“Definitely yes.”
“I also know… much as it is wonderful having you and Lambros living with me, it won’t be forever. Things between you…”
An explosion of light and sound filled the sky, huge starbursts vibrant and shimmering as they cascaded towards the water far below. Gold, green, red… so many colours. Then massive sparkling balls appeared from nowhere against the velvet backdrop of the night, overlapping silver circles mimicking full moons. Some burst a distance from them, others close enough to illuminate their upturned faces.
The lights dancing across the night were magical, and in Zina they stirred a memory: watching the Athens New Year fireworks over the Acropolis with Lambros, not long after they’d started going out. Drunk from wine and from love, their faces lit by cascading sparkles and stars had been wreathed in more happiness than she had thought she would ever know. The moment was made even more perfect when he’d bent his head and whispered, “I’m so glad I found you, Zi. You make me complete.”
She couldn’t let her mother see her tears so she slipped from under her arm and went to refill her glass. She watched from the dark shadows at the back of the terrace as the display reached its crescendo down in the caldera itself, the fireworks imitating the volcanic eruption that had formed the island’s unique geography. Shooting flames coloured the smoke an eerie red and rivulets of flickering light appeared to flow like lava. A terrible, terrible beauty indeed. Zina bit her lip, stifling a sob.
A voice beside her: “Are you all right?”
Karmela. What could Zina say?
“Sure. Happy tears. My mother just told me this is the first time she’s enjoyed an evening out since my dad passed away. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Karmela nodded. “I am so pleased. For you both.”
She had to buy a little time to pull herself together. “You have mentioned your mother but not your father?”
“He died more than twenty-five years ago, but my parents were already separated by then. It made it easier for her, I think. But I am guessing, because sadly she is not one to share her emotions.”
Right now, Zina got that. She didn’t want to share hers either. She nudged Karmela. “Shall we top up our glasses? And I don’t know why I’m hungry, but those hortópita look delicious.”
Jo joined them. “I didn’t know eating your greens could taste so good! But I suspect it’s to do with the herbs, and the quality of the olive oil in the filo.”
Karmela nudged Jo. “It is good to see you eating. I noticed you hardly took anything from the buffet at supper.”
Jo looked down. “I guess… I guess… Rees’s visit unnerved me. I know you know about our row, Karmela, and it wasn’t pretty.”
“I have to say, Jo, I didn’t warm to your husband,” Zina told her. “If I had known his visit would upset you I’d have told him to go.”
Jo put her hand on Zina’s arm. “Thank you, that’s really kind. You two… you really are…” She took a deep breath. “Karmela offered me moral support on the night but I turned it down. I’ve learnt how to manage him a bit over the years…” Suddenly she grinned. “At least this time I didn’t give in and let him have what he wanted. Something about being here gave me the strength.”
“I’m so glad, really I am.” Tears pooled in Zina’s eyes again. She wanted to return the confidence and tell her about the row with Lambros, if only to share their stories of men at their worst. She was sure they would have both felt better afterwards, but she couldn’t, just couldn’t. Instead, she popped the hortópita she was holding into her mouth and excused herself, going in search of another drink.
Over the course of the evening there were more than a few top-ups of wine, and Zina wasn’t the only one reeling when they more or less fell out of the cars at the retreat’s courtyard. There was talk of a night cap, but after very carefully setting out some glasses for Jo, Ellen and Susan, Zina made her way back down the path to the farmhouse.
It was late, and the tiniest sliver of new moon was no use to guide her, but she knew this track like the back of her hand. Every rustle from the pistachio trees was familiar as she trotted along, keen to fall into bed. Alone, without Lambros. She stopped. Put her hand over her mouth. She missed him. So much. Was she drunk enough to head out onto the terrace to talk to him? Or would he just be mad that she was tipsy? He’d told her often enough he’d never take her seriously when she was hammered so best not. Really best not. She didn’t want to make things worse.
As she approached the house she noticed the light was on in their bedroom window. She shouldn’t allow herself to hope he might be waiting for her– that would be foolish– but even so, she quickened her pace, almost falling up the steps into the kitchen.
The house was silent; Mama must have gone straight to bed. Turning out the lights behind her, Zina made her way to their bedroom. Please, please, let Lambros be there, holding his arms open to welcome her home.
She peeped around the door. He was there all right, but fast asleep on top of the sheet, a tanned arm flung over his head, his T-shirt riding up and his mouth so relaxed she could almost imagine he was smiling. As she gazed at his beautiful, familiar face, relief flooded through her, weakening her knees. He’d come back. The argument was over. They’d wake together in the morning, and he’d roll over and kiss her like he always did, and everything would be fine.
Silently she stripped off her clothes right where she was standing, then, praying the switch wouldn’t click too loudly, extinguished the lamp and slid under the sheet. It was hard to resist the temptation to cuddle up but she didn’t want to wake him. In any case, lying on her back might just stop the room from spinning. As would closing her eyes.
Within seconds Zina was dead to the world.