Chapter 12
12
Stella’s mind was in turmoil as she left the cottage and started to make her way back down the mountain. Just when she thought she’d conquered her fear of Marina and her creepy predictions, here was fresh information and cause for worry.
She trusted Katerina far more than the artist, whom she’d only met briefly a couple of times, but should she really pay any heed to the old woman’s psychic nonsense?
It was most likely pure coincidence that Katerina’s husband had drowned soon after the lady of the house’s prophecy. In fact, Stella was surprised a woman of Katerina’s evident intelligence set any store at all by someone’s supposed ability to see into the future.
But then again, was it worth the risk to dismiss it all as rubbish and ignore Marina’s warning? If something terrible did happen, Stella would blame herself forever.
She was busy pondering all this when she walked through the gates of the villa to see Lily hurrying towards her, brandishing a mobile.
‘I saw you through the window,’ she said, thrusting the phone in Stella’s hand. ‘It’s Dad. He wants to speak to you.’
The blood drained from Stella’s face and she started to shake, remembering the husband and wife rule she and Al had put in place: No contact unless it’s an emergency .
‘What’s happened?’ she asked, staring at her daughter, icy with fear.
Lily’s eyebrows shot up.
‘Mu-um! Calm down! He just wants a word about Hector.’
Relief washed over Stella and she exhaled loudly before glancing at her daughter, who gave a small, exasperated smile before turning tail.
Stella finally put the phone to her ear, feeling little bubbles of hope start to fizz in her stomach. Now the panic was over, it occurred to her that Al was the only person in the world who’d truly understand her dilemma and tell her what to do.
‘Hello!’ she said eagerly. ‘How are you?’
Walking swiftly over to a patch of grass in the shade under an olive tree, she sat down, with her things on the ground beside her, so she could fully focus on the conversation.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to give you a fright—’ he began.
‘Oh! No problem at all,’ she interrupted, unable to disguise the keenness in her voice.
‘I’m okay,’ he went on. ‘You?’
He sounded a bit stilted, but that was understandable, given the circumstances. Stella hesitated, wondering where to begin, and before she could reply, he jumped back in.
‘As Lily said, I wanted a quick word about Hector. She mentioned he wandered off somewhere yesterday and you had to look for him. Is he all right?’
‘He’s absolutely fine.’ Stella was anxious to get this over with as quickly as possible, so she could tell Al what was really troubling her. ‘He was on the beach. We had a good, helpful chat, actually. Listen, I’ve got something?—’
They were disturbed by a woman’s voice in the background.
‘No thanks,’ she heard Al reply crisply. ‘I’ll be with you in a sec.’
Stella’s pulse quickened and anxiety nibbled at her insides.
‘Where are you?’ The question escaped from her lips before she could catch it.
‘Still in Cornwall. Like I said, the signal’s terrible here so if I suddenly?—’
‘Who with?’ She wanted to sound nonchalant, but the crackle in her voice gave her away.
Al cleared his throat. ‘With, um, my neighbour. Sasha. She lives in the flat above mine. We’ve become quite good friends. She needed a break, too…’
‘How nice!’ A feeling of dread descended on Stella and she could hardly breathe. But she was determined to seem in control and forced herself to sit up straight, jutting her chin. ‘I hope the weather’s being kind to you?’
It took a great deal of effort to free the words.
‘Very. It’s quite mild. A bit cloudy but it hasn’t rained.’
‘That’s lucky.’
‘Look,’ he went on, seriously, ‘I didn’t want to disturb your holiday. But when Lily said?—’
‘You were worried, I understand.’ She sounded staccato and faltering; she barely recognised herself. ‘He’s been moody and difficult since we got here, but I think I’ve got to the bottom of it.’
‘Really? Go on.’
‘I-I can’t talk about it now,’ she stammered. Sasha. The name was whirling round her head, which had started to spin, and she feared she couldn’t hold it together much longer. ‘It’s not the right time.’
‘Why?’ There was a pause, then, ‘Stella, are you all right?’
A thick mist seemed to creep over her eyes, disfiguring her vision.
‘I-I need to see the others. I’ve been out all day. Thanks for phoning. I hope you enjoy the rest of your holiday.’
With that, she just managed to make out the off sign on her phone and press it, before flinging the mobile, face down, on the grass.
Her heart was thudding and her chest was so tight, it was as if she’d run a marathon. Clenching her fists, she dug her nails into the palms of her hands to stop them shaking, and gasped for breath.
The blood was pounding so loudly in her ears, she couldn’t think, couldn’t even cry. Something was crushing her ribs and she feared her heart was about to burst open.
Through the fog, she heard her own faint voice telling her to breathe slowly, in and out, in and out. She started counting backwards – one hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven, ninety-six, ninety-five – and gradually, her pulse began to slow.
Of course she’d suspected Al was seeing someone, but she had secretly been hoping she was wrong. The truth hurt like hell.
How foolish she’d been to imagine there could ever be a reconciliation! After some of the unkind things she’d said to him, it was a miracle he was even talking to her.
The saying – you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone – never rang more true. He’d always had her back and she’d trusted him completely.
He’d been a great husband and dad and he’d tried so hard to be there for her when Harriet died, but she’d scorned his love and driven him away. She didn’t deserve him.
Cupping her forehead with her palms, she stared at the ground. All the light seemed to have gone, leaving her with nothing but her own black thoughts.
Another nasty saying came to mind – you’ve made your bed, now lie in it.
Letting out a groan, she rose clumsily and picked up her things. Everything felt heavy and seemed to hurt: her head, back, shoulders and knees – and most of all, her heart.
Whatever happened, though, she couldn’t show Lily and Hector she was sad. She needed to disguise her suffering and be strong for them.
As she made her way slowly towards the villa, she made a conscious effort to smile and walk tall. No one would see her despair or guess what had caused it. She was going to have to put on the performance of her life.
* * *
A loud splash followed by a burst of girlish laughter told her at least one of the children had jumped in the pool.
Instead of going into the house, she ventured straight to the back garden, where she found Hector, Will and Amelia watching Lily attempting a handstand in the water.
Her legs waved wildly and before long, she toppled over.
‘That was rubbish!’ Will shouted gleefully when she came up for air. ‘Ten seconds. A five-year-old could stay up longer than that!’
Lily stuck out her tongue.
‘Come on, Hector!’ she said. ‘It’s your turn.’
It was only then Stella noticed her son was in his bright-blue swimming trunks for the first time since they’d arrived in Crete.
Even more surprising, at Lily’s command, he leaped into the pool, spraying water everywhere. Then he bobbed down, headfirst, and raised his legs and feet skywards.
He was even worse than his sister, flapping his skinny, white, hairy limbs wildly and lurching clumsily to one side before keeling over.
The other three shrieked with laughter.
‘Five seconds!’ Will roared delightedly. ‘Team Johnston’s a complete flop. Amelia, show them how it’s done!’
Stella laughed, too, despite herself, when Amelia jump bombed into the pool and started a water fight with Hector and Lily. They were like little kids.
‘Hi, Mum!’ Hector said when he noticed Stella at last. He moved away from the girls and came to the edge of the pool, resting his elbows on the side. ‘I didn’t realise you were back.’
‘I haven’t been for long.’
‘Good walk?’ He looked and sounded so normal, he was like a different person. For a few delicious seconds, Stella completely forgot her misery as warmth spread through her body and her eyes lit up.
‘Yes thanks. I bumped into Katerina and went back to her house for a cup of tea.’
‘Nice.’ Hector looked doubtful. ‘I think?’
Stella nodded. ‘It was, actually. She’s got this funny old place in the middle of nowhere.’
All of a sudden, a vision of Al with Sasha in a remote part of Cornwall popped into her head, and blackness descended again.
‘I’m just going to get some water,’ she said quickly, her bottom lip trembling. ‘I’m really thirsty.’
She could feel her face crumpling as she left the garden. It would have been a big relief to let the tears flow uncontrollably, but as she approached the kitchen door, she spotted Jon, reaching for something in the fridge.
Her stomach churned and she was about to dart to the left, out of sight, but he must have heard her because he turned his head.
On seeing her, his face brightened then almost immediately fell again when he clocked her expression.
‘Hi,’ he said flatly, his body tense and rigid. ‘Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for ages.’
‘I went for a walk.’
He moved aside while she fetched a glass from one of the cupboards and poured herself some water from a bottle on the worktop. She wasn’t going to tell him about Katerina or try to make small talk. She just wanted to get away.
The safest place would have been her bedroom, but she didn’t fancy being alone with her thoughts. Better to re-join the children and try to blend into the background.
The heavy silence that followed when she picked up her glass and walked back to the door made her feel panicky and claustrophobic.
‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you so much,’ he said suddenly, forcing her to pause. ‘I know I shouldn’t have spoken to you about my feelings. I regret it now.’
At that moment, she hated him with a passion, not for what he’d said but because he’d picked the worst time for another weighty conversation. She didn’t want to hear his apology, welcome as it was. She could barely hold herself together.
‘Thanks,’ she managed to reply numbly. ‘Can we talk about this another time?’
The crack in her voice had returned and it was lucky she had her back to him, so he couldn’t see her eyes brimming over.
‘Of course.’ He inhaled sharply. ‘I-I think it would be better if I left, don’t you?’
Her skin prickled and her palms felt sweaty. If she turned to face him, he’d see her tears and then she’d have to explain.
‘Yes… Maybe. I don’t know.’
It wasn’t the response he wished for and he made a deep-throated groan, which made her insides curdle. She felt cruel, but didn’t have the strength to offer words of comfort; she needed comforting herself.
Still clutching her glass of water, she left the room without speaking, sensing him staring after her, shrouded in a cold mist of abandoned hope.
* * *
That night, at supper, Louise announced she intended to take her children on a hike the next day to a different gorge. She made it clear this was a family only excursion and Amelia and Will had obviously been primed, because neither demurred.
Lily, sensing something was up, made no move to muscle in on the trip or try to dissuade her friend from going.
Instead, she looked wide-eyed and a bit puzzled.
‘What shall we do, Mum?’ she asked, childlike.
‘I don’t know. What do you fancy?’ Stella replied, not looking up from her plate. ‘We could go back to Sweetwater Beach if you like and do some more snorkelling?’
Hector, displaying a new-found geniality, actually supported the idea, and Stella suggested picking up some things for a picnic on their way to the taxi boat.
As there was no longer any pretence, in private at least, that she and Louise were on the same wavelength, she realised they’d probably spend the rest of the holiday going their separate ways as often as possible.
Perhaps the atmosphere would improve when and if Jon went home. But Stella was now so devastated about Al, she didn’t know if she had the energy to try to patch things up with Louise, or even cared enough.
Jon hardly spoke a word. He hardly ate, either, but sat swigging red wine until his lips stained violet and his teeth turned black.
He made no mention of any plans to fly home, but when he went upstairs to bed, Stella spotted him clumsily picking up the towel and yellow swimming trunks he usually left outside to dry.
It made her wonder if he’d booked a ticket for tomorrow, but she couldn’t face asking.
She was exhausted when she finally got to bed, but tossed and turned all night and barely slept. She still wasn’t sure whether to finish the holiday or go home early, but the news about Al and Sasha had rather taken over and she decided to delay the decision for now.
Listening to podcasts provided some distraction from the washing machine in her head, but all too soon, her husband’s handsome, gentle face would reappear, and she felt as if her heart would crack into a thousand little pieces.
It was a relief when light finally started to filter into the room and she rose and opened the shutters. Watching the sun rise, spreading its golden glow across the mountain and olive groves, helped to lift her spirits a little.
She showered in cool water, washed her hair and put on a clean pair of denim shorts and a pale-pink shirt, rolled up at the sleeves.
No matter how desperate she felt inside, she was determined today would be a happy one for her beloved children. The show would go on.
* * *
Louise, Will and Amelia left at around 7a.m. Stella heard their feet scrunching on the gravel drive and saw them set off in walking boots and sunhats, carrying their backpacks.
There was no sound coming from Jon’s room when she tiptoed downstairs and made herself coffee, which she took into the garden.
About an hour later, she went to wake Hector and Lily, as agreed. Hector’s room smelled of cigarettes and stale sweat, but she held her tongue and was relieved when he rose without complaint and pulled on his crumpled clothes, lying on the floor beside the bed.
Lily was grumpy and monosyllabic until she’d had a glass of orange juice and a couple of pieces of toast and honey. Then the three headed out in the cool morning air. No one asked if Jon were coming or even mentioned him.
There was a commotion outside the mini-market in Porto Liakáda, with April talking in a loud, agitated voice to a group of tourists holding maps and water bottles.
They were shaking their heads, and as Stella came closer, she heard them say in American accents they hadn’t seen anyone, while April kept repeating, ‘He can’t have vanished into thin air!’
When Stella approached to enquire what had happened, April threw up her arms in despair.
‘It’s Meaty! He’s gone again. He must have sneaked out of the house when I was changing the baby’s nappy. He didn’t want to go to school, the little bugger. He’s for it now!’
‘Oh dear!’ Stella glanced round rather half-heartedly because she doubted he’d be anywhere nearby. He was probably up the mountain now and wouldn’t venture down till school was over.
‘We’ll look out for him when we go to get the boat,’ she promised, before stepping into the shop, followed by Hector and Lily.
They bought fresh bread, local cheeses, ripe red tomatoes, olives, crisps and grapes, along with plenty of cold drinks.
April’s husband, Georgios, served them, but he didn’t seem particularly worried about his son.
‘Ah, he’ll turn up; he always does,’ he said in broken English, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Kids! What can you do?’
As they strolled towards the quay, carrying their supplies, Lily gave a shout.
‘Look! He’s there!’
To Stella’s surprise, Meaty was sitting on a low wall, his legs dangling over the side and his bare feet almost touching the water.
When Stella told him his mother was looking for him and he’d better get home sharpish, he scowled and stuck out his bottom lip.
‘I’m not going to school. I hate school!’
‘But you have to; every child does,’ Stella said gently. ‘It’s the law.’
‘Can’t he come with us today? He’d love it at the beach. He’s probably too late for school now anyway.’
Lily’s question came out of the blue and Stella hesitated, frowning.
‘I don’t think?—’
‘Plee-ase!’ Meaty begged, fixing on her with his big, round, melting brown eyes.
Stella was powerless to say no.
‘Run and ask your mother. It’s up to her. Lily, you go with him. Be quick!’
It wasn’t long before the pair reappeared, with Meaty carrying a small rucksack and beaming from ear to ear.
‘She said I can come if I promise to go to school tomorrow.’
‘And will you keep your promise?’ Stella asked, giving him her best stern and masterful expression.
‘Yes,’ he replied solemnly, lowering his long, black lashes.
Having him with them turned out to be a good thing. He made everyone laugh and keeping an eye on him stopped Stella from dwelling too much on her troubles.
Hector seemed to enjoy having a small boy to tease and play silly games with, and it gave Lily and Stella some time to talk on their own.
‘What’s the matter with Louise?’ Lily asked, lying face down on her towel, tanning her back. ‘She’s gone all weird and cold. She won’t look you in the eye. It’s obvious she’s fuming about something.’
Stella decided there was no point hiding the truth now it seemed Jon would be leaving. She explained Louise had wanted her to tell him to go sooner, but she’d refused and they’d rowed about it.
‘I’m not surprised she has such a problem with him,’ Lily retorted. ‘Everyone does.’
Stella sighed. ‘I just feel so bad him being here has caused so much nastiness. I wanted to help him, for Harriet’s sake more than anything.’
‘It’s not your fault, Mum,’ Lily said kindly. ‘You didn’t know this was going to happen. He must’ve gone a bit mad.’
‘I fear you’re right.’ Stella scratched an old mosquito bite on her thigh, which had started to itch again. It stopped irritating, but the scab came off and a thin trail of blood dribbled down her leg. Annoyed with herself, she licked her finger and tried to wipe away the evidence.
Her legs were a mess, covered in scrapes and bruises. Al would have told her off.
Him again. She swallowed down the painful lump, which had wedged itself in her throat, like a hard, tight plug, and focused on the turquoise sea.
Will and Meaty were a little way out but still in their depth. They weren’t moving but appeared to be chatting. She smiled, wondering what about.
Thank God she’d found Hector on the beach and had the conversation with him, she thought. She was truly grateful for that.
The four of them ate their picnic, swam together and separately and snoozed in the sun. By about 3.30p.m., Stella’s skin was beginning to feel hot and tight, despite having slathered on high-factor sun cream and covered up for a while in her cotton shirt.
‘We should probably go,’ she told Hector, who was beside her now, while Lily was near the water, covering Meaty in sand.
‘It’s been a great day, Mum,’ Hector said warmly. Stella reached out, put her hand on his, and squeezed.
By the time they’d packed up, waited for the taxi boat and got back to Porto Liakáda, the heat of the day was over and the sun was beginning to cast longish shadows.
‘I’ll drop Meaty off and pick up a few things for supper,’ Stella told Hector and Lily. ‘You head back now. I know you’re tired.’
‘Are you sure? We can help with the shopping?’ Lily offered, but Stella shook her head.
‘It’s fine. I can manage. We don’t need much.’
April had the baby on her boob and was serving a male customer at the same time when Stella and Meaty entered the mini-market.
Meaty immediately started telling his mum all about his day in short, animated sentences, which were quite hard to follow as he spoke so fast.
It seemed April had already forgotten about his naughty disappearance and as soon as the customer left with his purchases, she turned to Stella with a big grin.
‘Thanks, love,’ she said, unlatching the baby and deftly plugging him onto the other boob. ‘He’s obviously had the best time ever.’
They talked for a little while and April insisted on fetching a Coke from one of the giant coolers and presenting it to Stella as a thank you.
‘You can have a beer or a little bottle of wine instead, if you prefer?’ she offered, but Stella shook her head, pulling back the tab on the can, which made a pop, and taking a grateful swig.
She didn’t realise how long they’d been talking until her phone rang. It was Hector, and he and Lily were already back at the villa.
‘The front door was unlocked,’ Hector said uncertainly. ‘We thought Jon was in, but Lily went past his room and the door was open and it was a real mess in there. He’d thrown a load of clothes and stuff on his bed. There’s an envelope addressed to you on the side table. It’s sealed. Do you want me to open it?’
Stella’s legs felt wobbly and her mouth went dry.
‘No, don’t do that,’ she said quickly, anxious to protect her son from anything unpleasant that Jon might have written. ‘I’m still in Porto Liakáda. I’ll come back now. Have you checked everywhere – the garden, the pool?’
‘Yeah. He’s definitely not here unless he’s hiding up a tree or something.’
‘Okay, I won’t be long,’ Stella added shakily.
After saying goodbye to April, she hurried towards the steps, almost knocking over an elderly gentleman with a stick, which he waved crossly at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ she cried, pausing only to check he was all right before rushing on.
To her dismay, she noticed Marina on the quayside, in the spot where they’d first met. It would be hard to miss her in her bright-orange dress and jangly silver bracelets, her long, dark hair blowing gently in the breeze.
Luckily, she was sitting at her easel facing the water, but before Stella could dash up the steps out of sight, Marina swung round, as if she’d been startled by something.
Though the two women were some distance from each other, their eyes met. Stella felt her gaze locking and found she couldn’t look away.
She walked slowly, almost robotically, towards the artist, sensing herself being dragged, as if by a magnetic force.
When she was standing in front of Marina, she realised the artist had a peculiar glazed look, as if she were focused on something far away.
‘What is it?’ Stella asked fearfully.
‘Stay close to the sea tonight,’ Marina replied darkly, still staring into space. ‘I see danger. Don’t leave the water’s edge.’
For a moment, Stella couldn’t speak. Shock had destroyed her vocal cords.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked at last in a shrill voice. ‘Which sea? This sea? What danger?’
In an instant, Marina’s glazed look vanished, as if a switch had been flicked, and she concentrated fully on Stella.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that,’ she said softly. ‘I wish I knew. All I can say is, you must not go back up the mountain now.’
All of a sudden, Stella saw the ridiculousness of it all and gave a cynical laugh. ‘Your advice changes all the time. Can’t you see how you contradict yourself? Only a few days ago, you were warning me to be wary of the water; now you’re telling me to not leave the waterside. Why should I listen to you at all?’
Marina shrugged, which only maddened and confused Stella all the more.
‘You don’t have to listen. You can walk away right now and return to the villa without ever looking back. The choice is yours.’