Chapter Twenty-One
Claudia StarMyStay– The Ionian Escape, Kefalonia * Ican’t believe how much this place charges for an average room FULL OF MOSQUITOES AND SPIDERS!!!! The air con didn’t work properly and the breakfast was cold and disgusting. There was a leak in the bathroom sink and the room hadn’t been hoovered properly. Also the pillows were so uncomfortable, like trying to sleep on concrete blocks. REALLY DISAPPOINTED. Don’t waste your money!!!! Theresa Honeywell, Jersey
StarMyStay– The Ionian Escape, Kefalonia ***** We came here for our honeymoon and I’ve never felt so well looked after at a hotel. A beautiful room, the most comfortable bed, a wonderful pool, with a great beach five minutes’ walk away. The food is amazing, the staff couldn’t have been kinder and more helpful. Thank you to all the staff, especially Claudia and Dimitris who made our stay truly memorable. Dream team! Rosie and Ned, Aberdeen
For a long time, Claudia had enjoyed being with Marcus, first as his girlfriend, then wife. He was handsome and urbane, with his well-cut suits and gym-toned physique; his whitened teeth that were always (almost always) flashing a broad, confident smile. Before their paths crossed, her life was pretty ordinary, what with her unremarkable marketing job, her shared Collingwood flat, her evenings spent at the pub with friends or with TV and takeaways. But then one evening she came home from work to see a removal van in the street, and found her flatmates clustered excitedly at the front window, all perving over the apparently drop-dead gorgeous man moving in across the road. ‘Wait till you see him,’ they cried, sighing and clapping their hands to their hearts. ‘Should we go round and introduce ourselves?’ they giggled. ‘Invite him over for Wednesday-night takeaway?’
It became something of a running joke between them, the arrival of Hot Neighbour (as he quickly became known), with all sorts of enjoyable musings about his name, his occupation, his proclivities. What his voice sounded like (deep, husky, suggestive, they predicted), his star sign (Madison was certain he’d be a dynamic Aries, Kayla thought he had the heft of a Capricorn, while Claudia’s vote was for a sultry Scorpio). What he listened to when he went out running (rock classics? hip-hop?) and if it would be too obvious if they all took up running as well and orchestrated an accidental collision in the nearest park.
So far so fun. Who doesn’t love a crush? Then one morning the postie accidentally delivered a letter addressed to Claudia to the Hot Neighbour’s house. Answering the door that evening, already in her PJs and big fluffy slippers (it had been a long day), she felt a delicious fluster at seeing him standing there, even more handsome close up than when spied on through bamboo blinds. ‘Claudia?’ he asked, holding up the letter. WHAM. Straight to the heart.
‘Yes,’ she said, as an explosion of lust detonated throughout her body. ‘That’s me. Hi.’
Easy as that. Nice moves, Cupid. She was twenty-nine and conscious of the next decade looming on the horizon. Friends were starting to get engaged or move in with their partners; one couple she knew had just announced that they were having a baby. While Claudia was not by anyone’s standards a shy princess waiting for her prince, the boys she’d dated before then had been pretty lame, on the whole. Flakes. Cheaters. Stoners. Woefully immature, the lot of them. Enter Marcus, a proper grown-up with his own car and mortgage, a successful career, someone who knew all the best restaurants in town. He flossed his teeth, he competed in triathlons, he was dynamite in the sack. It was like winning the boyfriend lottery. Too right she said yes when, less than a year later, he got down on one knee in the Grace Darling and proposed.
‘It’s like a fairy-tale,’ Barb sighed the night before the wedding, when Claudia was back home for a family dinner. The white dress was hanging upstairs, she’d packed a honeymoon case full of swimwear and lingerie, and she was looking forward to wife life with all her heart. ‘Your happy ever after, Claudie!’
That was what they all thought, anyway. And why wouldn’t they? He’d been nothing but charming and generous to Claudia, and everyone in her immediate circle, from the off. The only person who hadn’t fallen under Marcus’s spell was Elodie, Claudia’s friend from work. ‘So what’s the catch?’ she’d asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. ‘Imean. . . he seems too perfect to be true. There must be a dark side somewhere, right? A few dodgy skeletons clattering around in the old closet. Don’t you think?’
Claudia had laughed. ‘Not at all! He’s just. . . good. Men like that do exist, you know.’
‘Hmm,’ Elodie said. ‘Well, I’m glad for you, Claud. Although if it turns out he’s secretly into devil worship and kills old ladies for kicks, then. . .’ The eyebrow was lowered again. ‘Don’t say Ididn’t warn you.’
Marcus wasn’t into devil worship and killing old ladies– as far as Claudia knew– but he was, it turned out, highly skilled at psychological and emotional warfare. It started small, shortly after their marriage, with little put-downs that made her question herself, sudden bursts of temper about things she had apparently done wrong in his eyes. He became very jealous if she went out with friends, or saw her family without him there too, and he would blow up afterwards, accusing her of all sorts, refusing to believe her protestations of innocence. It became simpler, on the whole, to tell other people that she was busy, really busy, sorry, could they meet up some other time? It became easier, also, to leave her job, after he became convinced that she was having an affair with her boss there, a chubby family man called Peter, just because she’d once been foolish enough to comment on how nice he was to work for.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Elodie asked low-voiced at her leaving drinks when Marcus had gone to the bar. He had turned up as a surprise and had been at Claudia’s side the entire time until now. ‘You don’t seem yourself, Claud.’ She’d hesitated, glancing around, before asking urgently, ‘You would tell me, wouldn’t you, if something was wrong?’
‘For goodness’ sake! I’m fine!’ Claudia snapped, so sharply that Elodie’s eyes widened and she backed away. Was that another friend lost? Claudia had wondered in resignation that night in bed. Still, Marcus would be glad if so; he’d never liked Elodie anyway, calling her an interfering shit-stirrer and making crude remarks about her sexuality.
Thank goodness though that Elodie was harder to dissuade than some of her other friends. That she had persisted in being a so-called interfering shit-stirrer, doggedly calling and messaging, eventually contacting Claudia’s family and expressing her concerns about how controlling Marcus was. Thank goodness, most of all, that Marcus had been away on a business trip to Sydney when her parents and Elodie turned up and basically staged an intervention. ‘We’re worried about you, darl,’ Barb had said on the doorstep, her mouth scrunching up as it did whenever she was emotional. ‘We feel like something might have gone a bit wrong. And we want to help you.’
At first Claudia had rejected their help, insisting that everything was fine, she didn’t know what they were talking about, but then Barb took her hand, looked into her eyes and said, ‘Claudie, it’s us. We’re on your side. We love you.’ Somehow this broke the enchantment, because all of a sudden Claudia started crying and couldn’t stop. Her mum sat there holding her tight, while Jerry busied himself making everyone cups of tea and Elodie packed her an overnight bag. ‘Ican’t leave,’ Claudia wept, still unconvinced. ‘You don’t understand. He’ll be so angry.’
‘You can leave,’ they told her. ‘And him being angry is exactly why you should leave.’
It wasn’t until she was back in her old bedroom in Fitzroy, coddled and cared for, that she started to realise just how thoroughly and expertly Marcus had dismantled her life, so that she had virtually nothing left in it other than him. The perfect husband had, in fact, been rotten to the core.
She has only seen him once since then, back in January when she’d gone home for a holiday. She’d been in the Gem with Elodie and her partner Ash, and was waiting to be served at the bar when she heard his voice. ‘You stupid pathetic bitch,’ he said, and time instantly folded in on itself. There she was, back in their marital home, cringing with fear as he shouted at her, trying not to cry as he shook her and told her how worthless she was. For a moment she thought she might throw up with terror, her system drowning in adrenalin. In the next second Elodie and Ash were flanking her, and they were speaking on her behalf.
‘Don’t you dare even look at her, you fucking piece of shit,’ said Elodie.
‘Get away from her this minute,’ Ash said, putting a hand on Marcus’s chest and shoving him hard.
Marcus did not like being shoved or threatened, and he definitely didn’t like feeling as if he’d been bested by his stupid pathetic bitch ex-wife and her so-called weirdo mates. But then the bar manager was on the scene, asking, ‘Is there a problem, Elodie?’ and when Elodie replied, ‘Yes, this person is a problem’, Marcus was refused service and asked to leave the premises. ‘I’m not finished with you yet,’ he spat at Claudia before stalking out in a fury. ‘Not by a long shot.’
The words have haunted her ever since, even here on Kefalonia, miles away from the streets of Melbourne. She knows he is the sort to nurse a grudge, to play the long game, and she has been waiting for him to strike out eventually, show his hand. Receiving the aggressive email at work was the moment she has been dreading, the prelude to him smashing his way back into her life.
But perhaps she was wrong. Because when Andreas, Dimitris’ computer-wizard son, comes to the hotel to take a look at the message, he’s able to trace it back to an IP address not in Melbourne, as she’d predicted, but to a town in England called Leighton Buzzard. ‘Are you sure?’ Claudia asks, frowning. Has Marcus travelled there on business, maybe? It seems unlikely– the last she’d heard, he was working for a haulage operations company based in Geelong, and it’s a stretch to imagine them flying him out to a town in– where was it again? Bedfordshire, wherever that is.
‘Absolutely one hundred per cent,’ Andreas confirms.
She can feel Dimitris studying her face. ‘Ithink this is good news, yes?’ he says. ‘That this idiot is not in Greece, we do not have to take him too seriously. And that maybe. . .’ He hesitates. ‘Maybe this is not a person you know, after all?’
She gulps, because the news is still sinking in. The message is almost certainly not from Marcus, she repeats to herself. He hasn’t found her. He isn’t about to turn up and ruin everything in the name of some petty vengeance. It’s only then that she realises just how pent-up she’s been feeling. How the stress of his potential reappearance has been like a giant weight on her, pressing her flat. She nods, trying to pull herself together and react professionally, but instead, to her horror, she bursts into tears.
‘Hey, hey, come on, now,’ Dimitris says. He gestures for Andreas to make himself scarce, then grabs a handful of tissues and holds them out to her. ‘Here.’
‘Sorry,’ she says, taking the tissues and blowing her nose to buy herself some time. For heaven’s sake, Claudia, get a grip! ‘Ignore me,’ she says after a moment. ‘I’m fine, really.’
‘Well, no,’ he corrects her. ‘You’re not fine, Claudia. By the way.’
She laughs, although it sounds a pretty unhinged kind of laugh. ‘Iwill be fine,’ she says, as much to herself as to him. ‘It’s just. . .’ It’s not Marcus. He hasn’t found her. Perhaps it’s the relief, but in the next moment she drops her guard. ‘Okay, yes, Iwas a bit scared,’ she hears herself admitting. ‘Scared it was my ex-husband. He. . .’ Then she trails off, because even talking about Marcus is enough to conjure him up in the office, mocking her. ‘He was a bad mistake. A bad person,’ she says quietly.
They’re sitting either side of her desk, the computer screen pulled round so that it faces both of them, and he puts his hand over hers, clasping it momentarily. ‘You are safe here,’ he says. ‘Ipromise you. Bad people are not allowed in my hotel.’
‘Iknow. Thank you. Ijust. . .’ His hand is warm against her skin and it’s enough to ground her again. Back in your box, Marcus, she thinks. You’re in the past.
‘If it makes you feel better, Itoo once made a bad mistake with a. . .’ He glances towards the doorway, lowers his voice. ‘A not-so-great person. Lili and Andreas’s mother, Elena. Not a good marriage. And we were far too young, as well. Just twenty! We knew nothing.’ He shrugs. ‘But we are human beings, we make mistakes. And it’s painful when you realise that you married the wrong person, yes?’
She nods, slightly taken aback that he is revealing such personal information to her. He’s friendly and kind to everyone at the hotel, but he’s also a private sort of man, keeping his cards close to his chest. He mentions his kids frequently– they all know how proud he is of them– but this is the first she’s heard of his not-great ex-wife. ‘Yes,’ she says.
‘But Iam glad that your wrong person is not’– he gestures at the screen– ‘this arsehole who calls himself the god of war. And because of this, Iwill now reply to him on your behalf, Ithink.’ He grins at her as he pulls the keyboard towards him. ‘Let’s make him sweat for a change, hey? Let’s see who’s the most pathetic person here now.’
Blowing her nose one last time, Claudia feels a new lightness expand in her body. Dimitris is right– she is safe here. She has rebuilt her life on solid foundations, without any input from her ex. Even if Marcus were to burst through the door tomorrow, she has enough good people around her who would have her back, who’d send him packing. He’s only as scary as she allows him to be, she realises. Like the bogeyman, like a horror film. She can close the book, shut down the narrative. Stop believing.
‘Thanks, Dimitri,’ she says as he types furiously. He pauses to read under his breath whatever firm rebuttal he’s just concocted, then resumes typing. She’d almost like to be on the scene in Leighton Buzzard when this ‘Ares’ opens his email and gets the full burst of Greek wrath, she thinks. See how he likes it. Then she frowns. Leighton Buzzard. The place name is ringing a bell somewhere in her distant memory, but why?
‘There,’ says Dimitris, jabbing at the Send button with an air of finality. ‘You are not welcome at my hotel, you are not even welcome on the computer of my hotel.’ He turns his gaze on Claudia. ‘You are okay now?’
‘Yes,’ she assures him and he gets up from the desk, pats her on the shoulder and leaves her to it. She slowly lets out her breath then examines her feelings. She wishes now that she had kept her cool, that she had not burst into tears. It has been a point of pride that she has managed to keep a protective shell around her while she’s been working here; that she has not let the past ruin her future. But the strange thing just now was that she found herself wanting to confide in Dimitris, that she wanted to be truly honest with him, rather than pretend. He’s the sort of man she feels she could trust. The sort of man, even, that she could. . .well, love.
The word startles her and she blinks and closes down the thought immediately. No. That’s ridiculous. Has she learned nothing from this email episode? She’s his employee, they are colleagues, and she cannot– must not– do anything that would make that awkward. Been there, done that, fled the bastard, she reminds herself sternly, getting back to work.