Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
I t was just an ordinary Monday. Grace repeated that to herself over and over again. She couldn’t let the fact that it was three years to the day since Phil had died overwhelm her. She refused to say she’d ‘lost’ Phil or that he’d ‘passed’. They were such silly words to use. She hadn’t ‘lost’ him– that sounded like he’d been mislaid in an aisle in Sainsbury’s– and ‘passed’ always made her think of exams. One old neighbour had rung her the week after Phil’s death to say she’d only just heard that Phil had ‘passed’. Grace had had to summon up every ounce of her strength not to say, ‘Yes, thankfully I don’t have to drive him around anymore.’
It was up to other people how they described what had happened to their loved ones, but she just preferred to go straight in with ‘died’. There was a lot of considering other people’s feelings after a death, far more than she’d thought, and there’d been days when she’d been too exhausted to cope with anyone else’s grief as well as her own. Her daughters or Sofia had gently turned people away from the door, saying that she was resting, which was a joke in itself. There’d been precious little rest in those first few weeks.
A vision of Phil’s emaciated body in his raised bed at the hospice caused her to let out a tiny cry. This was no good. She had a lesson in twenty minutes, with Stelios’s parents, the restaurant owners. Grace forced herself to think happy thoughts. She hadn’t wanted to take the day off, or draw attention to the date, which held no significance for anyone else on the island. She hadn’t even told Angeliki, although they were meeting for coffee later.
Grace had a quick look at her and Phil’s wedding photo on her phone, both of them so young and full of hope, her in a white silk meringue of a dress with a bouquet of forget-me-nots and roses, and Phil in top hat, tails and embroidered waistcoat, flanked by three bridesmaids and a pageboy, coming out of the church.
Neither of them had wanted anything quite so flamboyant, but her mother had insisted. Parents had had a lot more say in those days, mused Grace, as she dressed. They were usually paying for everything and wanted their own friends and numerous elderly relatives present.
These days, as far as she could see, the happy couple paid for most of it themselves and had complete say over the guestlist. She thought back to Flo and Jilly’s wedding, a ceremony in a barn, followed by an elegant vegetarian lunch for twenty, with their friends getting top billing, and none of her and Phil’s cronies present at all. In many ways, it made a lot more sense.
Grace added a little more makeup than usual and put plenty of concealer under her eyes to try and cover up the dark circles that were all too visible. After the relaxing afternoon on the boat, she’d barely slept, haunted by dreams of her husband: Phil as a young man, Phil with the girls, Phil fighting for breath in the hospice. She had thirty-five years of memories to draw on. It wasn’t like she was going to run out anytime soon.
A smiling Stelios opened the door to her when she arrived for his parents’ lesson– a few minutes late, as she’d needed to carry out emergency repairs to her face after more crying. Grace made a big fuss of Mikey the dog before the boy took her out onto the large covered terrace where his parents were waiting.
‘Grace. Welcome.’
Konstantina pulled her in for a hug, which almost set Grace off again. Was it a stupid idea to come to work today? It was people showing affection that undid all her good intentions, far more than indifference.
Grace held onto the woman for a few seconds longer than necessary and smiled in the direction of Apollo, her husband.
She managed to get through the lesson somehow, which she’d structured as role play: difficult restaurant customers and how to deal with them. Playing foreigners complaining about the table they’d been given, the wait for the food, and elements of the food itself was quite therapeutic, as was pretending to be annoyed by their responses to her gripes.
The couple worked calmly as a team to sort out the problems, and Grace was pleased with the progress she’d seen in their language skills in the few weeks she’d known them. They’d opted to take private lessons with her, and the investment was paying off.
‘Well done, both of you. Your English really is improving fast.’
Apollo gathered his wife up in his arms and kissed her thoroughly before speaking.
‘Thank you, Grace. You make it seem easy.’
The couple held hands all the way to the door to show her out again.
She mustn’t fall into the trap of feeling sorry for herself, not today.
* * *
Angeliki was waiting at the café in the port near the surgery, two cappuccinos already on the table.
‘You’re late!’
‘Yes, sorry. My lesson overran a bit.’
And she’d had to hide round the corner after leaving Stelios’s house to have a little cry.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘Yes, fine.’
Angeliki didn’t seem convinced. ‘You look a little… tired.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m worried about you.’
‘There’s nothing to worry about, honestly.’
She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell her new friend about the significance of the date. It would all be over tomorrow, and then she could carry on as normal.
‘Enough about me. What about you and Nick? How was the date?’
Angeliki’s eyes turned dreamy.
‘It was lovely. He took me to a rooftop bar and ordered champagne and strawberries with chocolate sauce.’
‘Oooh, fancy. And did you feed them to each other?’
‘No, we’re not at that stage yet.’
‘OK, didn’t realise that was a stage.’
‘But we’re seeing each other again tomorrow night, for a proper dinner.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘I really like him, Grace. He’s easy to talk to, he has minimal baggage for a man of his age and I think he’s cute, like a cuddly teddy bear.’
‘Yes, I bet he’d be very considerate in bed.’
‘Grace!’
She wasn’t sure where that had come from. Everything was out of kilter today. It was Sofia who came up with the raunchy comments, not her. At that moment a message came in on her phone. Will’s name flashed up.
Karen seems good today. But she’s asking for you. Can you come over after work?
A picture of the cat with its paw raised, being held in Will’s big hand, made her smile, but she couldn’t possibly do what he asked, not today anyway.
Angeliki’s eyes were on her as she took a sip of coffee.
‘Who was that?’
‘Oh, just Will. Asking me if I want to visit Karen today.’
‘“Just Will”? What is going on between you two?’
‘Nothing, I’ve told you before. We’re friends but that’s it.’
‘Friends don’t look at each other the way I saw you and Will looking at each other on the dancefloor at the party. He looked like he wanted to rip your clothes off on the spot, and you looked like you wanted to let him. You couldn’t get a cigarette paper between you.’
‘Rubbish. And anyway, why weren’t you staring into Nick’s eyes? You shouldn’t have been spying on us.’
‘I wasn’t spying. It was hard to miss. Celine certainly thought so. She had me up against the fridge-freezer demanding I give her all the details.’
‘Well, luckily there were none to give, because there is nothing going on.’
‘OK, if you want to carry on saying that, it’s up to you…’
‘I do.’
Grace had to look away for a moment. If she told her friend about the significance of the day, Angeliki would probably feel awful about suggesting there was something going on with Will while Grace was mourning her dead husband. Angeliki knew that she was a widow, but obviously not what a big deal today was.
Grace rushed through the rest of her coffee under Angeliki’s watchful eye.
‘I’ll have to leave a bit early. I forgot I’d booked in an extra lesson, and I’ve got to do some prep for it, sorry.’
‘That’s not like you, to forget.’
Nor was barefaced lying to your friends, but needs must.
‘Can I make it up to you by taking you for a posh coffee at the Hotel Artemis tomorrow? Same time?’
Angeliki raised her eyebrows.
‘Sure, see you there.’
Grace managed to get back to her room before she allowed herself a proper cry. She lay on the bed face down and wept into the pillow. When she raised her head, all the extra makeup she’d put on earlier was smeared across the pillowcase. She’d have to get it in the wash as soon as possible.
The computer in the corner sprang into life, and Sofia’s icon appeared on screen. Her best friend was the only person she could bear to talk to. She’d messaged both her daughters earlier saying she was thinking of them today and put a picture of the four of them together on the WhatsApp group. They’d replied with kisses and hearts but, based on what had happened on the same day last year, they’d all agreed in advance that it would only be agony to try and speak. There was an added pressure not to get upset this year. Lottie needed to keep calm for the baby.
Sofia’s smiling face appeared on screen but dimmed as soon as Grace appeared in vision.
‘You look bloody awful.’
‘Thanks. You’re supposed to be my friend.’
‘I am your friend. And I’m telling you that you can’t go out looking like that.’
‘I know. Thankfully, I’ve finished work for the day, and I’m not planning to leave my room again until after dark.’
‘OK, that doesn’t sound weird at all.’ Sofia blew her a kiss. ‘I’m not going to ask you how you’re feeling, as I can see for myself.’
Grace let out a big sigh.
‘Oh, Sof. I thought it would be better this year, that it would get easier, not harder.’
‘The human mind is a strange thing. Its complexities can never truly be understood.’
‘Crikey. Are you channelling Freud or something?’
‘At least it’s made you smile.’
‘Seriously though, I don’t know why everyone says that all the bad memories will go away quickly and be replaced by only good ones. That’s bollocks.’
‘Yeah, bollocks.’
‘Some people seem to think that after a year, or two at the most, you should be over it and move on. That you’re somehow’—Grace drew quotation marks in the air—‘“wallowing” if you show any signs of still being heartbroken. That there’s some strict grief timetable to follow that’s written down somewhere, like the Bible.’
‘But we don’t care about the people who say that, do we?’
‘No, we don’t.’
A couple of serious-looking young women had appeared in her friend’s office, and were standing waiting behind her.
‘Really sorry, but I’m going to have to go into a?—’
‘Meeting?’
‘Yes, I’ll try you later. Chin up. Love you lots.’
‘Love you too.’
Even the briefest chat with her friend had cheered Grace up a bit. She had a plan to get through the rest of the evening and night. It involved beer, crisps and a blanket.
A crime caper starring George Clooney took up a chunk of the afternoon, but Grace was relieved when dusk arrived at long last, and she could set out on Operation Phil. She walked to her special cove and set up camp between some big rocks on the beach. A night under the stars would do her the power of good. Phil had loved camping, so he’d approve. It would make her feel closer to him.
Everyone had left the beach for the night, and the little bar was closed, but she felt completely safe. The air was warm, and she had chilled beer and cheese and onion crisps in her bag. What more could a girl need? She could always get a taxi back if it all got too much.
Grace opened the first of the bottles and took a sip of the dry Greek beer. It slipped down easily. It never got completely dark on the island, as the canopy of stars above her head in the pollution-free sky gave out plenty of light. Tonight, by coincidence, there was a full moon as well, which left a shining strip of gold on the sea, like a pathway to another world.
She got out the scented candle she’d bought the previous day in town and a box of matches. Luckily there was no wind tonight, and the candle burned strong, giving out wafts of bergamot and jasmine. Not that Phil had been a big candle fan, but she’d always scattered them around the house when he’d been alive, so the smell reminded her of cosy nights in by the fire.
Grace lay back on the sand with her beer and let her album of Phil photos run through her mind on a loop. She was tempted to put on some of Phil’s favourite music as well, but she’d forgotten her headphones and it probably wasn’t fair on other people. Not that she was letting other people intrude into her thoughts tonight.
A sudden noise to the right made her sit up.
Will’s face loomed up over the rock.
‘Grace? What the hell are you doing here? Is everything OK?’
Oh, yes, it had to be him. Why was he skulking around the beach at night? He had a perfectly good house just a few yards away. Maybe it hadn’t been such a brilliant idea to come here. Out of all the coves in all the world, she’d chosen this one.
He came round and knelt next to her. Again, his hair was wet and his chest was bare. He’d obviously just got out of the sea. Grace stared at the individual hairs on his chest until they blurred into one, unable to speak.
‘Grace, what is it? Are you hurt?’
She managed to shake her head.
‘Why are you here on the beach in the dark? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.’
It was true, he’d sent her several messages with different pictures of Karen, urging her to come over.
Will took her face in his hands.
‘You don’t want to talk. Is that it?’
Grace nodded.
‘Have you ever been moonlight swimming?’
What was he on about?
‘You swim along the line of the moon on the water. It’s very special. I think it might help you with whatever you’re struggling with.’
She had nothing to lose. The evening couldn’t possibly get any worse. She’d put her costume on underneath her shorts and T-shirt anyway in case she managed a swim before night fell.
He held out his hand, and Grace got to her feet and stripped off her clothes. They walked together to the sea’s edge, still holding hands. Will turned to face her.
‘Do you trust me?’
Weirdly, and she’d probably regret it, but she did. She nodded.
They entered the water slowly, Grace acclimatising her body to the still warm water, but slightly disorientated by the dark.
Once her eyes focused, it was easy. They swam along the light path, and then floated on their backs for a while, staring up at the stars, in complete silence. The beauty of the moon on the water did lift her spirits a tiny bit.
Will seemed to know when she’d started to feel chilly and took her hand again to pull her towards the shore. They flopped down on the sand together and Grace took two beers out of the bag and passed one to him. He hadn’t pushed her to say anything, for which she was grateful. It also helped that it was properly dark now. She didn’t need to look at his face.
Halfway down her beer, Grace stopped drinking, unable to stop the tears.
His arm went around her shoulders.
‘What is it, Grace? You can tell me anything.’
She probably could as well.
‘Today is the third’—Grace paused for a gulp—‘anniversary of Phil’s death.’
‘Oh, you poor love. I’m so sorry.’
He reached round and folded her into his arms. Grace gave in to the temptation to sob on his chest. The living, breathing man in front of her wanted to comfort her, and she needed that comfort.
Grace lifted her head for a moment and was able to see his eyes illuminated in the moonlight. There was a lot more than simple comfort there. And she was going to take what was on offer. Grace bent down and kissed him gently on the mouth.
Will’s shock only lasted a second before he kissed her back, their tongues exploring each other’s mouth, and their bodies entwining.
A fire had been lit inside her, and Grace knew there was no stopping it. It had been smouldering for weeks, but she’d been too scared to fan the flames.
Will turned his body, so that she was partly underneath him. He raised himself up on one elbow and stared into her eyes.
‘Are you sure about this?’
It was like her body was making all the decisions rather than her mind. And her body had vetoed any objections that her mind could come up with.
Grace nodded and Will kept up eye contact all the time he spoke.
‘It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time… ever since the moment I saw you climbing over that wall, if I’m being completely honest, and more and more since I’ve got to know you. But I need to know that you want it too.’
Grace put her finger to his lips. There’d been enough talking.
‘Shush. I want it.’
Will pulled down the straps of her swimming costume, exposing her breasts to the night air, and stopped to lick and suck them, making Grace arch her back like a cat. She reached down and touched him through his swimming trucks. He moaned softly.
He whipped off the rest of her costume and his own trunks in seconds and threw them on the sand. Grace pulled him down on top of her. As their bodies connected, she tried not to question whether it mattered who was making her feel like this. After so long without physical affection, could it have been any man she’d stumbled across on the beach or in the town? Did it need to be Will?
Grace let out a little cry as he entered her, his urgency matching her own. Will was the man bringing her body alive again. She needed to stay in the present. Grace deliberately emptied her mind and prayed for oblivion.
Salty skin met salty skin and the sound of the waves in her ears added to the rhythms in her body, as Will pressed into her over and over again. The waves built, crashing to shore faster and faster, until her mind and body hit overload and she screamed into the night air at the same time as Will let out a shout.
But the night was far from over. Will moved slowly down her body, kissing every inch of her skin on the way to his ultimate goal, and Grace cried out again at the touch of his tongue. Their bodies, hands and mouths met each other time and time again, changing shape but constantly connected.
It was a night like Grace had never known.
Finally, she lay naked and spent under the moonlight, Will breathing softly next to her. Her mind zoned back in and overpowered her body. What the hell had she done? The logical part of her brain told her they were both single, fully consenting adults who’d experienced something incredible together. So why did it feel like she’d been unfaithful to her husband? And why had she picked the anniversary of his death to do it when there were three hundred and sixty-four other days to choose from? What kind of person did that? A little voice in her head was asking her over and over again how she could betray Phil like this. Tonight of all nights.