Chapter 44
CARRIE
Having struggled to sleep, Carrie woke up early and checked her phone.
An email. From Eliza. She skim-read it, stopping at the words ‘you do you’ that Eliza had written in capitals.
It reminded her of a song by a band called Broken Agenda, and Carrie picked up the guitar that was propped up against the bedside table.
She’d found it comforting to play Lenny Switchblades songs when she’d got in last night – or rather early this morning.
She strummed, whispering the words from Broken Agenda’s song about to hell with the consequences when it came to being yourself.
When she finished, Carrie read the email again, about her mum bawling in hospital as a baby, about that glare Eliza talked about, on Mel’s face, a glare that would say ‘sort yourself out’.
But she didn’t want to think about Queenie.
Carrie got up, showered and changed and, focusing on keeping busy, arrived at the rescue centre early.
Dafni was tending to a calico cat that had thrown up during the night.
The postman had already been and Carrie offered to open the letters and stack them for when Dafni got back to her desk.
Carrie also tidied up, throwing away chocolate bar wrappers, empty juice cartons and screwed-up scraps of paper.
She piled the mail neatly to the left of the desk, lining up a stapler, a pot of pens and a hole punch.
She went to the cleaning supplies cupboard, found a cloth, and wiped away coffee stains before dusting shelves.
After straightening the thick files of paperwork on them, Carrie opened a window to let the cooler morning air in. Dafni gasped when she got back.
‘My twinkling star!’
‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Are you crazy? It’s wonderful. I’m almost inspired to start the admin. Just got to go to the vet’s first. He can’t call by until late this afternoon and I’m worried about our beautiful calico. She’s been sick again and her eyes look watery.’
Carrie finished tidying the office, determined to find a distraction, even though the same thoughts kept going around her head, like a bloody carousel that would never stop turning in a horror movie.
Queenie is Eliza.
Eliza is my gran.
I’ve been emailing and joking with the evil witch who ruined my mum’s life.
A witch who could have easily run away from my grandfather and supported her daughter.
Or could she?
Nana arrived, and a couple of hours later after them emptying litter trays, putting out food, checking each cat for the calico’s symptoms, and brainstorming further fundraising ideas, she poured two coffees from a flask for her and Carrie.
Cicadas chirping, they stood outside, basking in the sunshine, now laser-intense.
When she’d first arrived in Greece, the dazzling sunrays had made Carrie a little woozy, but slowly her body had adapted, like it had to the Greek food that was less hearty than the English, but full of taste and texture.
Oregano, garlic, olive oil, dill… those aromas instantly lifted her, along with the taste of meat not slathered in a thick sauce or gravy like the meals she cooked back home.
Lighter. Life here was lighter, in so many ways – or had been until a bit of England had come calling yesterday.
‘What’s up?’ asked Nana.
‘Nothing.’
‘My flower, I’ve caught you several times deep in thought, biting your thumbnail, once even after changing the litter tray. Carrie! You must be more careful! And you exhausted me discussing fundraising. Talk about hyperfocus, as if you were trying—’
‘Not to think about other stuff?’ She sighed. ‘Like some unexpected visitors arriving from England last night?’
Nana’s eyes narrowed. She went over to a nearby grassy bank and sat down on the foliage that, despite the dry climate, was as green as the pretty scarf on her head. She patted the ground. Carrie joined her.
‘I’m okay,’ Carrie said. ‘Seriously. I’ve talked it out – with Drago, believe it or not; I stumbled into him on the beach. And I rang Dimitrios this morning but he didn’t pick up, so I’m hoping later—’
Nana spluttered and coffee went down her top. ‘Drago?’
‘We’d met to discuss the fundraiser, I went home, and my grandmother unexpectedly turned up. Upset, I headed to the sea and he was there and—’
‘Wait… what? Your grandmother? Here in Greece? This is too much!’
Carrie smiled. ‘Welcome to my world.’ Nana sat with her mouth open, coffee going cold, as Carrie told her the detail. Carrie’s eyes filled unexpectedly. ‘I didn’t handle it very well. Drago… he gave me some perspective. He’s a good listener.’
‘Pah!’
‘Honestly, Nana. He’s not a monster.’
Nana didn’t reply. ‘So how are you now, my darling? What are you going to do?’
‘I’ve messaged Jez. I’ve got more questions.
I’m hoping to meet Eliza for a drink later.
’ She thought about her fake Instagram account; how difficult it had been to convey to her friends exactly why she’d done it; how she’d never meant to cause so much hurt.
And how, like Drago, like Mum had said, Carrie had to face accountability for that and the consequences.
Eliza had struggled last night to convey her decision to stay with Howard.
Perhaps Carrie owed her one more chance to explain.
As Drago proved, things – or people – were not always as they seemed.
Her phone bleeped and she slid it out of her pocket. A text from Jez.
‘Shit. He and Eliza have already flown home.’ She rang Dimitrios. The call went to voicemail again.
The women got to their feet and Nana made a shooing gesture with her hand.
‘Go, Carrie. There is not much left to do. Go clear your head. Remember, I am always here to talk, with a free coffee and orange blossom baklava – my father’s latest flavour.
’ She took Carrie’s mug and put her arms around her.
‘I can’t imagine what a shock seeing your yiayia must have been.
But I know my Carrie will work out what to do. ’
Carrie speed-walked down the hillside and into the village, towards The Bar by the sea.
As she entered, Carrie was greeted by the familiar fairy lights, wooden beams, and the smell of the garlic dressing slathered on the pitta sandwiches she loved so much.
Ajax stood at the bar in uniform, drinking coffee, and he and Carrie nodded at each other.
A woman played the piano in the corner, a gentle jazz piece, so soothing.
Dimitrios stood serving drinks. He looked tired and didn’t smile for some reason.
They went outside and sat at one of the tables on the decking, behind the hedge.
‘I’ve been trying to contact you,’ she said, glad for the breeze.
‘Everything all right?’ he asked. ‘Late night?’
‘Yes.’ Once again, she explained what had happened. Dimitrios became increasingly aghast. Recounting yesterday’s events for the third time – after telling Drago, and then Nana – crystallised in her mind what she had to do – to her surprise.
‘Can The Bar cope for a few days without its employee who doesn’t speak Greek and eats for free?’ she said. ‘I’m going back to England. I need to see Eliza. I can’t leave things like this. There is so much more to ask and say. And I need to see my friends.’
Accountability. Responsibility. Taking charge of your reaction to situations.
‘Of course,’ he said tightly.
‘You okay?’ she asked.
‘Just worn out. A late night, like you.’ He stared her straight in the face. ‘I saw you on the beach last night, your arms around Drago.’
‘Oh. Right.’ God, how must that have looked? ‘Yes, you did, but I can explain—’
‘It took me by surprise, that’s all – how close you and he were.’
‘You see, we’d been brainstorming the fundraising and then I went back home. Eliza turned up. I was upset and ran down there, bumped into him. He… he’s a really good listener and we both confided in each other.’ She took his hand. ‘You don’t think he and I… It must have looked bad but…?’
He rolled his lips together. ‘Over the years I’ve had numerous women fake a relationship with me because of my fame.
I got hooked in badly once, developed deeper feelings, and then found out she’d been going through my personal stuff.
Turned out she was a music journalist hoping to find some dirt on me that would give her a promotion. ’
‘God! That’s awful!’
A staff member came up to them. A problem with the till. Dimitrios went inside to sort it. Ten minutes later he was back and sat down next to her. ‘I’d better go in a minute, packing to do,’ he said.
‘You’re leaving? Business trip? When?’
‘As soon as.’
‘Right.’ His words stunned her. ‘Are you off to Athens to write with the band? When will you be coming back?’
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘You tell me,’ he said. ‘I have many thousands of air miles to use. They’ll easily cover two seats to Manchester.’
Huh? She tilted her head.
‘I’d love to see where you live, meet Boo and… be there for you after you see your grandmother.’
‘What? But I thought… Drago…?’
His cheeks flushed. ‘I admit it was a shock seeing you both together like that, after everything with my dad. Confused, I went down to the beach, hoping for answers, and sat on the sand until dawn.’ He gave a sheepish smile.
‘As it always does when I’ve got a problem, the sea spoke to me.
In the same way I trust the tide to always go back out, in the same way I know waves never fail to roll up and down, up and down…
In my heart I know you are totally trustworthy, Carrie.
I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit… off. But the history between me and Drago…
I had to see you in person first to confirm what I already knew. ’
She leant into him. ‘I’m glad you worked out that I’ve only got eyes for Doritos – must be the MSG in them… the Mr Sexy Greekness.’
‘Even though, now and again, Doritos can be fragile and crumble?’
‘Especially because of that,’ she whispered.
‘In that split second when I saw you together, my heart broke a little, Carrie, and it was nothing to do with Drago, it was all to do with you. No one’s made me feel like that before.
I don’t like it. Yet I do.’ He leant forwards and kissed her lips, confident, urgent, addictive.
Piano notes sailed their way, ‘Clair de Lune’ by Debussy.
It reminded Carrie of the film Twilight and how she’d watch it as a young teen, wishing she had a vampire boyfriend.
Dimitrios was no vampire, but kissing him felt as if he were filling her with mythical powers like enhanced sensitivity, and the confidence to know that someone wholly believed in her.
Perhaps it was time she believed in herself.
‘So your worldwide hit “Can’t Break My Heart” was a lie,’ she murmured.
‘Written in good faith,’ he murmured back.
When they eventually parted, he fetched two iced lemonades.
Driven by a sense of purpose, she was already online googling flights.
When she looked up to consult him about a departure time, Dimitrios’s beautiful face, more handsome than any vampire king, had taken on an unfamiliar, ugly expression.
Carrie followed his gaze to the end of the decking, where Drago stood. In his hand was a cat carrier.