Chapter Three
She couldn’t go to Kefalonia.
There was too much to do, wasn’t there? She needed to look for another job, another flat, possibly a flatmate.
She had been at her old job for five years, her redundancy pay wasn’t going to last forever.
She needed to decide where she wanted to live, what she wanted to do.
The thought set her heart racing again as panic set in; everything had been going to plan, she’d thought her life was on track.
Now, when she thought about the future her mind went dark and her palms began to sweat.
She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea how to begin rebuilding her life.
Nina looked at her reflection in the mirror of her dressing table. She’d loved that thing as a teenager, carefully plucking eyebrows and curling hair and painting nails. All with the pictures of her mum that were attached to the mirror, looking as glamorous as ever, smiling down at her.
She stared at her reflection now, pale and blotched and makeup free. Her hair a mess and, to be honest, a bit dirty. There was something blank about her expression. She needed to shower and blow-dry her hair, paint her face, fix her nails. Then she’d feel better, feel more like herself.
Somehow she couldn’t summon the energy. She gazed at the pictures of her mum, Clare, long dark hair bouncing around her face, her eyes bright and full of warmth.
Nina would watch her getting ready to go out with her dad, spraying perfume and putting on earrings, squeezing her feet into high-heeled shoes.
Laughing, pulling Nina into a fragrant hug before they left, promising not to be too late and warning the babysitter not to let her eat too many biscuits. She always did.
Nina didn’t know what her mum would think of her now. This plain, wet-blanket of a girl she’d apparently turned into.
Her favourite picture was the one on the bedside table, the one she took with her wherever she went.
The one of them together, both grinning at the camera, Nina wrapped in her mum’s arms. They were windswept in this photo, hair tangled, their cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
She remembered that day as if it were yesterday.
She was about ten. It was a family trip, a drive, a picnic, a walk up Stanage Edge.
Nina had raced to the top, scrambling like a little mountain goat with her parents close behind, Theo calling for her to be careful, to slow down, and Clare laughing and telling him to stop fussing, cheering Nina on.
It was that trip that kicked off her love of climbing.
Theo and Clare had taken her every Saturday to lessons at the local sports centre, and she’d raced up those walls.
She was strong and she was smart, always working out the best route to the top.
And she was brave, never hesitating or second-guessing herself.
She joined the club, learned to belay. Her muscles still remembered the feeling of balancing and pulling herself to the next position.
She’d almost let herself forget the soaring joy of seeing the diminished world below as she gazed down from the top of yet another wall, filled with triumphant joy.
Nina found her reflection smiling, glimpsed a spark of that adventurous little girl in her eyes.
She’d never had the chance to learn about who her mum was before she’d settled down.
As a child Nina had no interest in that, and her later attempts to get Theo to open up had always been met with him shutting down.
Nina could see the pain that just mentioning her mum brought him, and so she gave up.
She knew they’d met in Kefalonia, when Theo was a young man still living there and Clare a young woman travelling through. Nina had vague memories of childhood holidays there, of meeting relatives, but since it had just been her and Theo they’d never been back.
She shook herself, showered and brushed out her hair. Downstairs, she found Theo loading the dishwasher. She helped him put the mugs in, laughing as he tutted and huffed and told her she was doing it all wrong.
‘Baba,’ she said. ‘I think I will come to Kefalonia.’
His face lit up. ‘Ah, my little Antheia,’ he said. ‘My heart will boom with joy.’
‘Burst,’ she said, kissing his cheek. ‘Your heart will burst, Baba.’
He opened his eyes wide in mock horror, clutching his chest and staggering backwards. ‘I hope not! How could you wish this thing on me, cruel girl?’
Shopping was the first order of the day. Money wasn’t tight, exactly; she’d always been sensible so she had savings, and her redundancy payout. Still, without knowing when she’d have a wage coming in, she knew she’d better go for budget options.
Nina tried to ignore the plummeting feeling in her stomach, quickly turning her mind away from job prospects and towards bikinis. She waved a couple at Heather.
‘Pink or black?’ she asked.
‘Isn’t the answer usually both with you?’ Heather held a frilled floral one-piece against herself. ‘What do you think about this?’
‘Hideous, you’ll look like Auntie Mabel. And yes, it used to be both, but I’m, you know, on a budget.’
Heather placed the swimsuit back onto the rail and pulled a face. ‘Auntie Who?’
‘Mabel, you know, from the old kids – never mind. Pink or black?’
Heather had turned away and was holding a pair of giant flesh-coloured pants up to herself. ‘Black,’ she said, without looking. Nina chose the pink. ‘What do you think about these?’
‘Ugly.’
‘Comfy.’
‘Rosie will divorce you if you take those home.’
‘She’d have to marry me first.’ Heather sighed and sagged at the knees. ‘Can we get a coffee now? I’m bored.’
‘Yep, just let me pay. And pick up a couple of other bits.’
Forty-five minutes later, with sun cream, travel toiletries, hat and flip-flops purchased, they were sitting in the café.
‘Ugh,’ Heather groaned. ‘That was exhausting; please tell me you’re done.’
Nina shook her head. ‘Hardly started, haven’t even begun with sundresses and sandals and waterproof makeup. I’ll need to get my nails done and maybe a fake tan so I don’t look too – what?’ Heather rolled her eyes and slumped down her chair. ‘I’ll buy you lunch,’ Nina said sheepishly.
‘You’re not staying in a five-star hotel you know. You’re helping your sixty-five-year-old dad renovate a tumbledown house.’
‘Well, I’m just keeping him company,’ Nina said, her mind filled again with the images of beaches and cocktails.
Heather raised her eyebrows, but was too busy sipping her Americano to argue.
She and Theo booked the flights together.
It was a while since he’d travelled and she wanted to check everything.
He huffed and rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not some doddery old man, you know.
I’m in my prime! I’m an accountant, trained and clever man, not some stupid old fool needs his daughter to help him. ’
‘Retired accountant,’ she couldn’t help pointing out. Which did nothing to improve his mood. He glowered at her.
Nina cleared her throat and stared at the laptop screen. ‘We need hold luggage.’
Theo sighed. ‘All these extra costs, it used to be you just booked your ticket and off you fly. Now they squeeze you for every little extra, they’ll be charging for using the toilet next.’
Nina grinned. ‘Spoken like a true accountant.’
‘No need for hold luggage, few clothes and a toothbrush is all you need.’
Nina turned to face him, her expression serious. ‘Baba, no. We’re going for weeks, we’ll need clothes and different types of shoes, and do you know what that climate does to my hair? Straighteners, and oh, must get a plug adaptor. What?’
He was staring at her as though she’d gone mad. ‘What do you need extra shoes for?’
Nina ticked off on her fingers. ‘Trainers for the flight, obviously, but I’ll be wearing those, flip-flops for the beach and pool, everyday sandals, going out sandals, those sparkly Manolos, just in case, oh and boots, I might want to go hiking at some point so –’
Theo was shaking his head. ‘You crazy, girl. Not going for a party-party.’
Nina was too busy booking the hold luggage to listen. ‘Right, all done. Now, have you researched hotels, Baba?’
Theo widened his eyes and lurched back on his chair, flinging his arms up in horror. ‘Hotel? You think I’m made of money? We’re going to work on the house, we stay in the house.’
‘Oh. I suppose . . .’ Nina had thought the building was in a state of disrepair, unsafe, and that was why the hotel was demanding they fix it up.
But perhaps it was just some finicky regulations about window sizes or pipes or something.
She imagined again the white-walled house with blue-painted shutters, air-con and a little garden that overlooked the beach.
That would do.
‘Right, then. Better start packing.’
Again, Theo rocked around in his chair, shaking his head in exaggerated disbelief. Nina couldn’t help but laugh. He always used his ‘Mediterranean temperament’ as an excuse for this dramatic flair, but she thought he just behaved this way to entertain her.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘We’re not going till Monday.’
‘And when are you planning to start packing?’
He shrugged. ‘Monday.’
‘Exactly.’ She stood up, planting a kiss on the top of his head. ‘That’s why it’s a good job you’ve got me coming with you.’
He chuckled. ‘I don’t argue with that.’
She made lists of what was needed; hers became a lengthy note on her phone, Theo’s less than half as long.
She shopped and washed and ironed and packed, trying to block the memories of last time she’d packed – flinging the remnants of her life into a case as she left the flat she’d shared with Sam, along with the future she no longer had with him.
Nina bit her lip and blinked back tears, trying not to lose herself in longing for how things had been such a short time ago.