Chapter 11
11
‘I heard about Hector,’ Louise said coldly when Stella came down for breakfast the next morning.
The two women hadn’t seen each other since last night, before Stella left the villa to find Hector. By the time they’d returned, Louise had already gone to bed and Jon was in his room, too.
‘Yes. I was so relieved when I saw him on the beach,’ Stella replied, settling down at the garden table, which was covered with a yellow linen cloth, and helping herself to a mug of coffee from the cafetière.
She glanced round at all the empty places. ‘Where are the others? No sign yet?’
‘Still asleep.’ Louise took a sip of her own coffee before removing her big, round sunglasses and eyeing Stella strangely.
‘It’s lucky you found him. Anything could have happened.’
‘What do you mean?’
The accusing tone wasn’t lost on Stella, who slapped down her mug harder than she’d intended, slopping coffee on the surface. Yesterday, her friend wasn’t speaking to her. Today, resuming conversation with her could prove to be even worse.
‘I was afraid something like this would happen,’ Louise went on through narrowed eyes. ‘He’s so unhappy and confused and Jon’s made it considerably harder for him.’
That old chestnut. Blood rose to Stella’s cheeks. Who was this icy woman with pursed lips sitting in judgement opposite her? She felt she didn’t know her any more. Perhaps she never really had.
Jerking back in her chair, Stella glared at Louise, crossing her arms defensively. ‘We had a really good talk, actually. We cleared up lots of things.’
‘Great.’ She didn’t sound convinced.
‘He was worried we wouldn’t be able to afford for him to go to university. I explained it wasn’t the case at all.’
‘Poor Hector.’ Louise shook her head, making Stella’s chest tighten and her neck tense.
‘His world’s turned upside down and he probably feels he’s got no control over you guys.’
‘Over me and Jon, or me and Al? Which one are you referring to?’
‘Both.’
Stella felt herself grow larger; she was expanding with rage and upset. Unable to take any more, she leaped from her seat.
‘I thought you supported me,’ she said in a loud, high-pitched tone. ‘I’m incredibly hurt by your criticism. I don’t think I deserve it. You don’t understand Hector, either. I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’m doing the best I can. It’s not been easy, you know, without Al?—’
Louise didn’t let her finish. ‘I was waiting for you to bring him into it. You wanted him to leave, remember? You can’t turn round now and complain he’s not there to help you with Hector.’
Stella saw red. ‘Actually, he is there for me, especially when it comes to the children. We’ve got a very good relationship in that sense. Not like you and Josh, who’s so unreliable, he won’t even commit to a holiday with you, let alone move in with you. You run round after him all the time and bend over backwards but as far as I can see, you get nothing in return. It’s sad.’
The words tumbled out with such ferocity, Stella shocked herself. Louise’s face crumpled and she lowered her gaze and seemed to focus hard on some crumbs on the table.
‘That’s so unkind.’
Her shoulders drooped and she had an uncharacteristic air of defeat. Stella felt a stab of guilt, but it quickly passed. ‘Well, you’ve been incredibly unkind to me.’
Glancing up again, Louise caught Stella’s eye and her own eyes seemed to plead for a truce. She reached an arm across the table. ‘Stella, I?—’
But Stella wasn’t listening. With a burning face and throbbing head, she marched indoors to find her bag, water bottle and shoes.
She was wearing a short, pink sundress, which didn’t really go with walking boots, but she pulled them on anyway. Then she took out her phone and texted Hector and Lily.
Gone for a hike. Be back later xx
With that, she left through the front entrance, so she wouldn’t bump into Louise, and banged the door shut behind her.
It seemed almost unbelievable she’d fallen out so spectacularly with her once dear friend, she thought as she set off down the mountain, with no clue where she was going.
In hindsight, of course she shouldn’t have invited Jon, but it was done with good intentions and it wasn’t her fault he’d become infatuated with her.
Deep down, she reckoned Louise must have been jealous and critical of her for a long time, and hidden it. She’d seemed to back Stella’s decision to break up with Al, but perhaps she’d never really approved of any of her choices.
Her hurtful behaviour cast into doubt everything she’d said in recent months, every piece of advice she’d given. Stella now wondered if Louise had ever really even liked her. Maybe she’d just been faking.
About halfway down the mountain, she noticed a small, slight figure walking purposefully towards her, carrying two big brown bags.
They must have been heavy because the woman was arching forwards, her arms stretching down so far, they almost touched the ground. It looked quite painful.
Stella soon recognised Katerina and started to wave, but quickly stopped herself, realising the old woman would have to put down her bags to return the greeting.
‘Good morning, Mrs Johnston,’ Katerina said politely when she drew up close, still holding the bags. ‘It’s another beautiful day.’
Stella smiled. ‘Yes, gorgeous.’
It seemed for a moment as if Katerina would continue on her way without stopping. Stella was relieved. After the fallout with Louise, she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.
But there must have been something in her expression that made the housekeeper hesitate.
‘Is everything all right?’ she asked, plonking down her load at last. A juicy-looking fat orange rolled out and Stella stooped to pick it up.
‘Fine.’
‘Are you sure?’
Katerina fixed two sharp black eyes on Stella, who felt herself buckle under the scrutiny.
‘Not really,’ she admitted, her shoulders drooping.
‘Whatever’s happened?’
She didn’t intend to tell Katerina much of her sorry story, but somehow she couldn’t help herself.
When the housekeeper pointed to a grassy mound and they sat down, side by side, the words gushed from Stella’s mouth like water from a burst pipe.
Katerina was a sympathetic listener and before she knew it, Stella was explaining all about Harriet, the marriage split, Jon’s infatuation, Hector’s unhappiness and Louise’s fury.
‘I came here to give the kids a treat. I thought they deserved it – well, Lily anyway. I also hoped I’d be able to relax and recover a bit from the last couple of horrible years, but now things are worse than ever. I don’t know what to do.’
Her nose and eyes were dribbling and she sniffed noisily; she couldn’t help it. Katerina patted her knee gently before leaving a small hand there to rest. To Stella’s surprise, this felt comforting and entirely natural.
‘I knew you had troubles,’ Katerina said softly in her pronounced Greek accent. ‘You have suffered a great deal, but you’ve come to the right place. You will heal; you just have to be patient.’
Stella wished she had such faith. She desperately wanted to believe in the old woman’s reassurances, but couldn’t.
‘But what about Jon?’ she said croakily. ‘I don’t know how to handle the situation. Whatever I say seems to make it worse. And Louise? I’ve already lost my best friend, Harriet. Now Louise has gone as well.’
Katerina removed her hand and placed them both on her lap, her knees lightly touching. She was neat all over, in a straw hat, short-sleeved white blouse, black skirt and brown leather sandals. Her skin was tanned in the places where it showed, and her arms were thin and wiry.
She made a clicking sound with her tongue and shook her head.
‘You can’t force these things,’ she said. ‘You have to wait for the clouds to part. Only then will the way become clear.’
Stella frowned. This sounded like wishful thinking to her, but she was slightly afraid of the doughty housekeeper and didn’t fancy challenging her.
‘Would you like some water?’ she asked, pulling a plastic bottle from her bag.
‘I have some, thank you.’
Katerina fetched her own from one of the shopping bags and poured a few inches into a see-through cup, which she’d clearly brought with her.
She took a few ladylike sips before dabbing her mouth with a clean white handkerchief from her pocket. After that, Stella felt slightly embarrassed swigging straight from the container.
‘Where are you going now? Into Porto Liakáda?’ Katerina asked, replacing her cup in the carrier bag and smoothing some invisible creases on the front of her skirt.
She noticed Stella looking at the two gold rings on Katerina’s left finger, one with three small round diamonds in the centre. Katerina’s knuckles had swollen with age and it was doubtful the rings would ever come off, even if she wanted them to.
‘My husband was a good man,’ she said wistfully, holding up her hand and gazing at the jewels, too. ‘But he died so young – before he even reached his thirtieth birthday. He was a fisherman. The boat capsized in a storm and all were lost.’ She sighed. ‘It was a tragedy for the wives and families, but you have to pick yourself up and keep going.’
Stella swallowed, feeling guilty for moaning on about her own problems.
‘That must have been so hard,’ she said, bending almost double and resting her elbows on her knees. ‘How on earth did you cope?’
Katerina shrugged. ‘I was lucky, really. I had a good job.’ She nodded in the direction of Villa Ariadne. ‘The owners looked after me. They were very kind.’
Stella’s ears pricked. An opening at last! She seized her chance. ‘Who were they? I read something about Leo Skordyles, who was the mayor of Sfakia. Did you work for him and his wife? And who took over the villa after they died?’
Glancing at Katerina out of the corner of an eye, she could tell the old woman was frowning and seemed lost in thought.
‘Come with me!’ Katerina said suddenly, as if inspiration had just struck. She rose and rubbed her creaky lower back. ‘Help me carry my bags home and I’ll explain some things you want to know.’
It was an opportunity not to be missed and perfect timing, as Stella had no other plans. She hadn’t particularly relished the idea of another long walk; she’d just needed to escape from Louise.
‘All right,’ she said, rising as well and picking up one of the bags of shopping. It weighed a lot and she wondered how on earth Katerina had managed to lug the two of them.
The prospect of trudging even further up the mountain wasn’t exactly appealing, but she was intrigued to see where Katerina lived and to hear about her life.
‘I found a black and white photograph of you inside a book in the villa,’ she said tentatively as they set off, with Katerina taking the lead. ‘And there’s a painting of you on the wall.’
There was no dawdling. Katerina set such a cracking pace, Stella had difficulty keeping up.
‘Ah yes,’ the housekeeper replied, pumping her legs and her loose arm. The weight of the bag in the other arm made her stoop, but she wasn’t even breathless. ‘My lady wanted it. I was honoured, but I didn’t like sitting for so long. The artist complained about my fidgeting!’
‘He painted your female employer too, right?’
Katerina nodded. ‘Several times. And her husband.’
‘How long did you work for them?’ Stella asked next.
‘I started as a maid when I was fourteen years old and I’m still there all these years on. I was very ignorant when I arrived, just a silly, na?ve little girl. My lady was the one who taught me to read and write, and speak English. She let me borrow all the books in her library and passed on her love of literature. I owe her a great deal.’
‘I read she’d sadly died a while ago, and her husband, too. So who’s taken over?’
The old woman was shrewd, and she must have picked up on Stella’s eagerness to discover the truth. She paused, before turning briefly to look at Stella over her shoulder.
‘They are dead, yes. They’ve been gone some years, as you know. That is all I wish to say on the subject, if you don’t mind.’
She was polite but firm, and Stella felt deflated, knowing there was no point pressing because she wouldn’t get anywhere. She fell into silence while they resumed walking, speculating again on why the villa’s new incumbents were such a secret.
Perhaps they were tycoons or famous actors, anxious to preserve their privacy. Such news usually got out eventually, though, and the fact no one seemed to have any clue as to their identity was a real mystery.
Furthermore, would a very wealthy person or a star really choose to rent the villa out to ordinary people like her? There didn’t seem to be much security round the place, so it was possible they’d bought it as an investment only and had never actually stayed there themselves.
The two women were almost at Villa Ariadne now and Stella’s heart started to pitter-patter. She was concerned about bumping into Louise or Jon, but Katerina seemed to be aware of this and skirted round on the other side of the trees, where they wouldn’t be seen.
Soon, the mountain steepened sharply, and Stella couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted to because she was so short of breath.
Still, the housekeeper kept to the same speed, only stopping once to put down her bag and pick it up with the other hand.
There was no one else about and after a while, Stella began to wonder if this was all a trick and they’d never actually reach their destination.
Before long, however, she spotted an isolated, higgledy-piggledy old stone cottage, which seemed to spring from the mountain as if it had grown there rather than been built.
Though rough and basic looking, it was obviously well maintained, with neat wooden shutters, a tiled roof and terracotta awnings over the small windows.
An extra concrete floor seemed to have been added at some point, which was painted white, and purple bougainvillea frothed around the front door, creating a welcome explosion of colour.
‘Is this yours?’ Stella exclaimed. ‘It’s charming!’
She was hot and sweaty and it was a relief when Katerina pushed open the door, which wasn’t locked, and led her into the cool, dark interior.
‘It’s only small, but it suits me,’ she said, setting down her shopping bag on the stone floor and placing her straw hat on top.
Glancing round, Stella could see they’d walked straight into a sparsely furnished kitchen, in the centre of which was a rough wooden table, surrounded by four chairs.
Resting on the table was an open laptop with a blank, staring screen, which seemed strangely out of place in these rustic surroundings.
The kitchen area itself consisted of a sink, a rickety-looking gas cooker and stone worktops, which could have been hewn from the rocks. There was no sign of a washing machine, dishwasher or even a fridge. The main storage space seemed to be wooden shelves of various sizes, laden with pans, mugs, glasses, jars and tins, labelled with Greek words Stella couldn’t read.
‘I’ll make us a pot of mountain tea,’ Katerina announced, proceeding to fill one of her saucepans with cold water.
Stella sat and watched in amazement as she placed the pan on the gas cooker and lit the ring with a match. The only time she’d ever done this herself was on camping trips.
While the water heated up, Katerina washed her hands in the sink, put on a flowery apron and bustled about unpacking her shopping and putting cups, spoons and plates on a little wooden tray.
Now that her eyes had fully adjusted, Stella noticed vases of wildflowers and pots of herbs on the windowsill. On one wall was a smallish, wooden-framed picture of three beautiful, smiling, bejewelled Minoan women in richly coloured clothes, with intricately coiled black hair, set against a vivid-blue background.
‘I love that,’ she commented, pointing to the image.
‘It’s from a fresco at Knossos. It’s known as the Ladies in Blue . They look happy, don’t you think? It makes me smile, too.’
Once the water had heated up, Katerina took a plain, brown, ceramic teapot from the shelf. Then she picked some dried stems, complete with flowers and leaves, from a glass jar, stuffed them in the pot, filled it up with water and left it to steep.
Next, she produced a large, chipped red tin which, when opened, contained six or seven small, round, golden pastries. They smelled delicious, and Stella’s mouth watered.
‘Have some Kalitsounia ,’ Katerina offered, popping one on a plate and passing it to her guest. ‘I make mine with myzithra cheese, as well as eggs, flour, yoghurt, sugar, orange juice, lemon zest and a pinch of cinnamon. They can be savoury too, with herbs, but I prefer the sweet variety. I usually add a drizzle of honey. They’re quite addictive.’
Reaching up to the top shelf, she brought down the biggest jar of honey Stella had ever seen and opened the lid.
‘It’s from the local farmer,’ Katerina announced proudly, placing the jar on a saucer and setting a spoon alongside, as well as two pressed white linen table napkins. ‘Now, eat! The tea should be ready. I don’t like it too strong.’
The long wait had been agony and Stella was longing to try the pastry. The others had scoffed all the ones Katerina had left for them at the villa.
After spooning on a little of the honey, she picked up the pie in her fingers and nibbled off a corner before taking a proper bite, and another, until it was almost gone.
All the while, Katerina watched keenly, relishing her visitor’s evident enjoyment.
‘Delicious!’ Stella muttered at last, licking her fingers and sighing.
Katerina smiled widely. She still hadn’t touched her pastry and Stella had deliberately left a tiny bit so as not to appear greedy.
Now, the old woman took hold of the teapot and poured the tea through a strainer into two cups, before passing one to Stella.
‘Be careful, it’s hot.’
The brew smelled aromatic and slightly sweet. Stella blew on it before trying a tentative sip.
‘Lovely. I feel like it’s very good for you.’
‘It is. It builds up your immune system. It will stop you getting sick.’
Once she’d had a few sips of her own tea, Katerina ate her pastry quickly before settling back contentedly in her chair.
‘Now I feel human again,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I won’t need to shop again for several days.’
Stella felt herself relaxing, too. In her own surroundings, Katerina seemed less intimidating somehow and perhaps more open to questions.
‘Did you and your husband live here, before he passed away?’ Stella continued, pushing back her own chair and resting a foot on the opposite knee.
‘We did. We moved here when we married. I’d lived with my family in town up to that point. It was wonderful to have our own place.’
‘And do you spend much time at Villa Ariadne when it’s unoccupied? Or maybe it’s always full? It’s so beautiful, I wouldn’t be surprised.’
Katerina raised her eyebrows, which, still dark, contrasted sharply with her grey-white hair.
‘Oh! It’s often empty,’ she replied, as if it the answer were obvious. ‘Not because people don’t want to come. We get many enquiries, but we only accept very special visitors.’
The ‘we’ dangled enticingly in the air between them, but Stella’s fingers had been burned when she’d asked about the owners earlier and she decided not pick up on it.
In any case, she was just as intrigued by the rest of the old woman’s statement.
‘What do you mean by “special”?’ she asked. ‘How do you know?’
Katerina took another sip of tea, her black eyes sparkling mischievously.
‘Let’s just say, it’s an intuitive thing. We can always tell from our visitors’ correspondence who will fit right in and gain the most from coming here.’
‘Have you ever made a mistake?’
The housekeeper thought about this for a moment before shaking her head.
‘Not really, no. Perhaps one or two didn’t get as much out of their stay as I’d hoped. But mostly they leave in a better place than when they arrive.’
She was sounding peculiarly prophetic, like Marina, which prompted Stella to enquire now about the artist.
‘She means no harm,’ Katerina insisted when she heard about Marina’s alarming warning. ‘You shouldn’t take offence.’
If she were surprised by what had passed between the two women, though, she didn’t show it, which made Stella wonder if she’d heard already.
‘How well do you know Marina?’ She deliberately didn’t disclose what April had told her of their relationship. ‘Is she a friend of yours?’
Katerina breathed in and out deeply. ‘In a manner of speaking, yes. I’ve known her all her life, since before she was born, in fact. I was friends with her mother, Cora.’
‘And was Marina always, um, a bit different?’
This was met with a nod. ‘She was nothing like Cora. She took after…’
Her voice trailed off and Stella desperately wanted to hear the rest.
‘Took after who?’ she said eagerly.
Katerina reached into her pocket and pulled out a grey woollen pouch, which she rolled between her fingers. It seemed to contain several small items and Stella wondered what they were.
‘You said you saw the paintings of my lady in the villa?’ the housekeeper commented.
‘Yes.’
‘Well, take a good look at them when you go back and see if they remind you of anyone. The nose, the eyes, the lips. I think you know what I’m driving at?’
Stella’s eyes widened in astonishment. ‘Marina’s the daughter of your former employer?’
A slight incline of the housekeeper’s head confirmed the truth.
‘Are others in the village aware of this? Does Marina even know?’
‘Marina, yes. Everyone else, no.’
‘But why? Why was she given to Cora and her husband? What was the reason?’
She almost added, And why are you telling me , a virtual stranger? but stopped herself. She felt privileged to be party to the information, for whatever reason, and didn’t want to break the spell.
‘Ah, well that was because my lady wasn’t supposed to be able to have children. She and her husband were childless. When he found out, he agreed to keep it quiet on the one condition – that his wife give up the baby and have no contact with her whatsoever. I was entrusted with the job of arranging where to place her. Mr Makris and his wife were the obvious choice, as they were childless themselves, and I knew Cora would be a wonderful mother.’
‘Is Mr Makris Marina’s father?’
Katerina frowned again and opened the woollen pouch, taking out a silver pendant, which she ran through her fingers like a rosary.
‘He is, though he doesn’t deserve to be. It’s a mystery to me how anyone so beautiful and talented could come from someone like him.’
Stella’s mind was buzzing. She had a million more questions, but Katerina was beginning to tire.
‘I think that’s enough,’ Katerina said, finishing her tea and replacing the cup on the table. She gave a weary little smile. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Just one more thing,’ Stella gently pleaded. ‘Did your lady, as you call her, think she had special powers as well?’
‘Certainly,’ the old woman replied decisively. ‘She could see things before they even happened. She saw my husband’s death at sea, but unfortunately, I didn’t take heed. At that time, I thought she was, what do you call it? Fey. I think that’s the word. Now, I know better, of course.
‘I don’t have her gift; very few do. But I used to know when she’d had a vision. Her eyes would glaze over and she’d whisper things to herself. Sometimes, she’d become upset and I’d have to comfort her. I was the only one who could. She always wanted me by her side in those moments.’
Stella was silent for a few minutes while the information sank in, then her stomach clenched and she stared at the housekeeper in sudden panic.
‘If she foresaw your husband’s death, maybe Marina’s right to warn me ? Do I need to take her seriously? I’ve never really believed in things like that before, but should I be cautious this time? Should I get everybody home?’
Katerina took another deep breath before shrugging her thin shoulders and raising her hands, palms out.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t answer that. It’s for you to decide. You must make up your mind and do what you think is right.’
Stella felt dizzy and her leg started bouncing up and down involuntarily, making the table shake.
‘Can’t you give me some guidance? I don’t want to ruin the kids’ holiday unless I have to.’
‘Listen to your own intuition. Trust your gut.’
Katerina fixed Stella with an enigmatic gaze, which made her fists clench. She tapped her fingers on her thigh repeatedly.
‘You know what to do. You just have to figure it out,’ the old woman added.