Ariana Read online

  ‘Right little lady, what’re we going to do with you?’ she mumbled, her hand sweeping slowly across the peeling blue-paint on the vessel’s bow. She sucked through her teeth and set the sander carefully down on the wood. The buzzing noise drawing her concentration, the dust floating away on the light warm-breeze, she worked diligently until she had revealed the bare wood beneath the flaking paint. Standing, assessing, her hands caressing the smooth surface, she rubbed her forearm across her face, sticky with sweat and dust, and smiled.

  ‘Looks good,’ Manos remarked, smiling warmly.

  ‘Coming along,’ she said, stretching and pressing her thumbs into her lower back. Boat restoration was as much a hobby as it was a part of their business, and she was in no rush to finish this particular project.

  ‘Beer?’ he asked.

  She nodded, noting the sun was hiding behind the rocks. She’d lost track of time, and that was a good thing. Working on the boat had taken her away, revived her, refreshed her, and, rekindled old feelings; warm feelings that reminded her of the times she and Ariana had fished together as children. The raw anger that had surfaced earlier had already been chipped away, leaving an altogether different feeling.

  ‘You eating?’ Manos asked, handing her the cold bottle.

  ‘I’ll take something out with me.’

  He nodded and handed her a paper bag. ‘Thought you’d say that,’ he said.

  ‘I’m going to get a shower,’ she said, taking a long slug of the chilled drink. ‘Ahhh, that’s good!’ she remarked.

  ‘The shopping list is behind the bar, in case I don’t see you in the morning,’ he added.

  She smirked. ‘You’ll see me,’ she said.

  He had teased her for a long time now about not being around another day. He was only sixty-five and as fit as a fiddle, but it had become a habit and one which sometimes irritated her.

  ‘I put your fishing gear out front,’ he said.

  She winked, leant in and placed a kiss on his stubbly cheek. ‘Thanks Pops,’ she said. ‘You sure you can cope here?’ she asked with a wry smile, scanning the five bench-tables that made up the restaurant, three of which were empty. It was still early though, and the place would soon be buzzing, and she would hear the laughter from the rocks, and she would know, Pops would be coping just fine without her.

  ‘Away with you,’ he admonished, moving to clip her around the ear. ‘You’re not too old for disciplining,’ he teased.

  She chuckled, ducked under his arm, leaned in and planted another kiss on his cheek. ‘I’ll be back after midnight,’ she said, heading for the shower.

  ‘Aye,’ he said. He would be waiting.

  2.

  Ariana gazed out from The Sophia II’s highly polished deck, at the empty, isolated beach. Her shoulders slumped, her face drawn, looking closer to gaunt, she closed her eyes and breathed in the salty-warm air. The last few months had taken every ounce of energy she possessed, but she had done it. Free at last, she could concentrate on providing a future for her daughter, for them both. She released a long breath and opened her eyes.

  ‘This it?’ Soph asked, scanning the small barren cove bounded by rocks and what appeared to be a series of sandy pathways, leading to where she didn’t know.

  ‘Yes,’ Ariana replied, her voice weary, her tone tinged with something between concern and relief.

  There was a noticeable absence of the refreshing breeze that had accompanied them on the cabin cruiser. ‘It’s hot,’ Soph remarked, checking the deep-blue sky and rubbing at the beads of sweat clustering above her lip. ‘I like it,’ she added before her mum could comment.

  She hadn’t known about the island until recently, and even then it hadn’t meant anything to her, having never met or heard anything about her great-grandmother. Sakros was suddenly looking like the best-kept secret in the Carter-Cruz household if ever there was, and there had been a few of those that had come out of the woodwork recently, she mused. Even though she had kicked against leaving London, and the trip to get here via Italy where they had picked up The Sophia II had been hideous, she wasn’t averse to a holiday in the sun.

  Scanning the isolated beach, tuning into the birdsong and the crickets chirping loudly, and the soft hush of the waves lapping the shore, she grinned. She gazed over at the rock face and the vast array of shrubs bordering the beach and gracing the steep pathways to the cliff-top, with the sweet-salty aroma drifting in the warm air. This place was awesome.

  She stepped off the boat excitedly and wandered down the short jetty. Reaching the beach, she threw off her deck shoes and wiggled her toes in the soft, warm sand, stopping when she touched the cold bit beneath the surface. ‘Cool,’ she mumbled, with a chuckle. A couple of paces up the beach, she stopped suddenly, faced into the sun, and lay down.

  Ariana sighed. Her features softened as she watched Soph settling herself on the beach and basking in the warm sea air. Heartened by Soph’s obvious delight, going some way to containing the concerns that had given her so many sleepless nights, she started the short trek up the sandy slope to the white house.

  She stopped just past halfway to gain her breath and perched on the familiar ledge, overlooking the cove and The Sophia II. The crew were busying themselves. She inhaled the heady scent of sage and smiled, fond memories of years past creating a soothing feeling she hadn’t felt in as long as she could remember. Her eyes quickly absorbed the array of colours provided by the wildflowers: mauve geraniums, yellow chamomile, and the delicate star-shape of blue borage, and then there was the olive grove to her left with dark green leaves scattered across the southern tip of the island, row after row, stretching for what seemed like forever. Each plant would be laden with young developing fruit. Twenty years, and yet it was as if time had stood still. Nothing had changed. Except, of course, grandma Sophia was no longer here. She sighed at the thought, feasted on the beautiful landscape in front of her, and then Soph, still laid out on the sandy beach below.

  Rising slowly to her feet, she continued up the dusty path, puffing as she reached the flatter, wider area at the top of the incline, leading directly to the house. She stood, settled her breathing again, wiped the sweat from her eyes, and gazed at the whitewashed walls. The house looked in better condition from the beach, where the sun seemed to accentuate what little white paint still clung to the rendered walls. The shutters were fixed open, airing their insides, and even here the blue colour was flaking from the wood. Even though this was the more exposed aspect of the house, she sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of the task ahead. As she approached the door, it opened.

  ‘Hello Mrs Carter-Cruz,’ the beaming smile greeted her, the dark-brown eyes assessing her with interest.

  Ariana didn’t recognise the young girl, though her features resonated, her tanned skin and dark curls, native to the island. ‘Hello…’ she responded, her tone seeking a name.

  ‘I’m Gianna,’ the girl said, her white teeth shining with her expanding grin. She stepped back from the door, for Ariana to enter the house. ‘Maria and Nikos’ daughter,’ she added.

  ‘Ah, yes, how are your mother and father?’ she asked, her smile forced. Knowing the impact the message she was just about to deliver to the Papadopoulos family, a wave of guilt passed through her and anxiety flared in her gut.

  ‘They’re good,’ Gianna said, excitedly. ‘Papa’s in the garden and Mama’s in the kitchen. They’re expecting you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ariana said reservedly, observing the young girl with mild curiosity. She looked over her shoulder at the puffing and panting noises heading towards them.

  ‘Wow, that’s steep,’ Soph said, with a beaming smile. She rubbed her forearm across her brow to gather the sweat, scanned the house briefly and settled her gaze on the smiling dark-eyes that were fixed intently on her.

  ‘Gianna, this is my daughter Soph.’

  ‘Hi,’ Soph said, her grin widening. She studied Gianna through squinted eyes, her head tilting at the young woman who stood a couple of i
nches shorter than her five-feet-eight-inches. She looked a bit older than Soph, almost eighteen years, maybe nineteen, or twenty even. Her eyes wandered down the slender body, small breasts, and slim tanned legs. She looked fit. Cute!

  ‘Hi,’ Gianna said, staring at the scruffy looking mousy-brown haired girl, her eyes drawn to the sparkling piercing in her nose. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, Soph’s eyes lingering on her, asking questions, finding answers.

  Soph smiled mischievously, her gaze flicking from the girl staring at her to her mother and back again. She stepped past a still-staring Gianna and into the house. Ariana followed her into the cool space. ‘Why’s it so cold in here?’ Soph complained.

  ‘The house is designed to keep out the heat,’ Ariana said, taking in the décor. This part of the house was always colder than the other side, but the chill that passed through her had a quality unrelated to the temperature.

  ‘Where’s my room?’ Soph asked.

  Gianna looked flustered.

  ‘Downstairs, take your pick of the two rooms on the right. The second one will be warmer,’ Ariana answered, casually. Soph dived down the stairs. ‘Gianna, we have luggage to…’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Gianna responded enthusiastically, bolting out the door and down the slope to the moored cruiser.

  ‘Hello Ariana.’

  The familiar voice turned Ariana’s head, and she opened her arms. ‘Hello Maria,’ she said, taking the woman into her embrace.

  ‘It’s been a long time,’ Maria said, pulling back and regarding Ariana affectionately. ‘You look well,’ she added.

  ‘Yes.’ Ariana held her gaze and released a deep sigh. She didn’t feel well, she felt tired and in need of a long break, but the chances of achieving that during their brief stay would be slim. ‘How have you been?’ she asked.

  Maria had started working for her grandmother when Ariana was a young child and had been with her until the end. Ariana stared with fondness at the woman eleven years her senior; reminded of the times Maria had baked cookies for her as a young child. Then, there was the time she had cried because her mother wouldn’t allow her to play with the other children on the beach and Maria had sat in the garden with her and made a picnic of the cookies and juice. When Ariana reached her teens, Maria had covered for her so she could explore beyond the confines of the estate. Since Sophia’s passing, Maria had helped with the maintenance of the grounds and supplying food to the workers. Ariana’s heart pained, weighed down by the blow she was about to deliver.

  Maria lowered her gaze a fraction. ‘We’re well,’ she said, in a tone that held sorrow. ‘It’s been difficult since your grandmother…’

  ‘Yes,’ Ariana interrupted. ‘I’m sure.’ She strained a smile, wanting to move the conversation along.

  She hadn’t had the time to give any thought to Sophia’s death, consumed by the depression that had taken over her life in the last few years, her husband’s philandering ways and her mother’s persistent need to control her, and now it almost seemed as though it was too late to grieve. She didn’t even know how she felt about her deceased grandmother. She hadn’t heard from her since shortly after the birth of Soph and had never understood why the letters had stopped suddenly.

  Teresa had been infuriated that the estate had been left to her, and hadn’t held back telling her she was unworthy of it, even though Teresa had estranged herself from Sophia since leaving the island. The vitriolic abuse her mother had launched at her had been the last straw. Now, she had no choice. She was here to sell up and move on, and that would have consequences for both Maria and Nikos, and Gianna too. She sighed, mustering the courage to speak.

  Maria smiled. Focusing her attention back to their newly arrived guest, she cleared her throat. ‘You must be thirsty,’ she stated. ‘I’ll make coffee,’ she added, hurrying towards the kitchen.

  ‘Thank you.’ Ariana said, softly. She glanced around the foyer and peeked into the reception room. The white-marble fireplace still looked spectacular, but the walls needed a lick of paint. Something was comforting about the scent of the lightly polished wood and the sweet smell of fresh roses that filled the space. She stood, staring, gathering her thoughts. This wasn’t going to be easy!

  ‘Ariana!’ The deep resonance jolted her, and she turned.

  ‘Nikos!’ She exclaimed, smiling as the man bounded towards her. He hadn’t changed much over the years either. Twelve years her senior, he had always been like an older brother. He had been kind and had taken the time to talk to her and teach her about the plants and farming the land as she had wandered around the estate as a child. He had worked for her grandmother since leaving school at fifteen and finally taken over management of the estate when his father retired ten years ago. Her stomach lurched.

  ‘You look as lovely as ever,’ he said, his soft-brown eyes sparkling. He pulled her into his arms and placed a kiss on her cheek. ‘How have you been? It’s been such a long time.’ The words spilt excitedly from his lips, his eyes holding hers with a mix of warmth and fascination.

  ‘I’m good, thank you,’ she said, averting his gaze. ‘I think Maria is making coffee,’ she added. ‘Join us won’t you? There’s something I need to say to you both.’ With her heart pounding in her chest and her hands beginning to sweat, she walked through to the kitchen.

  ‘There’s so much we need to catch up on,’ Nikos was saying, his arm hanging around her shoulder.

  She didn’t respond. She felt sick. What she had to say would change everything, after which he most likely wouldn’t want to catch up with her about anything. She tried to breathe deeply, to tame the thumping in her chest, but it was making her light-headed and anxiety was squeezing at her gut. Coming here after so long, she hadn’t imagined she would feel any warmth towards the old place. It should have been a simple exercise. But already, the smells, the sounds, and seeing the house again: the comforting familiarity of it all, reminded of something she had felt years ago. Happy. Regret struck her unexpectedly, and she started shaking, finding it impossible to speak. She tried to smile but a strained expression appeared, and her heart felt as if it were about to implode.

  The aroma of garlic and herbs drifted in the kitchen air from a pot bubbling away on the stove. It didn’t help. ‘I need to talk to you both,’ she said, her voice broken, facing two pairs of questioning eyes and encouraging smiles. She swallowed hard, but her mouth was dry. She couldn’t face them, and her eyes wandered to the sea beyond the kitchen-balcony. Small, young grapes hung from vines that spanned the trellised roof. They weren’t ripe yet, she noted distractedly. ‘I’m selling the house,’ she said. The calmness in her voice surprised her, but when she looked back at the wide-eyes staring at her, her insides crumbled. Nikos’ open-mouthed glare, and Maria’s paling face, frozen and confused, released the trembling in her stomach. She fought back the acid that rose in her throat and the heavy feeling pressing down on her shoulders that was causing her legs to want to give way.

  Nikos turned away and walked out of the kitchen in silence. Maria continued to stare. ‘Tell me this isn’t true,’ she said, her voice cold, accusatory.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ariana said. She turned swiftly, exited the kitchen, and dashed out the front door, a sharp prod of guilt causing her head to spin. Aarrgghh! She hated herself, hated her life; hated everything!

  Teresa had arranged for Nikos and Maria not to tell anyone about her visit and they had honoured the request, and now this was how she repaid them for their loyalty. She felt ashamed. She had had no choice, she told herself repeatedly. There was no other way. She was selling the house. And, if there was one thing she had learned from her mother it was to deal with bad news swiftly and concisely. People will get over the pain quickly enough. Her mother’s words rattled around her head while her feet carried her through the rose garden and onto the ragged cliff top, overlooking the adjoining coves. She stood, breathing deeply, fighting an internal battle; one she felt as if she had been fighting all her life.
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br />   She could see the ferry on the far side of the west-cove; the paddleboats, kayaks and windsurfers laid out on the beach just beyond the jetty, and the rocky route bordering the beach, and then across the sand to Kefalas. The taverna looked as it always had done, its big bright red and blue sign, the bench tables on the sand, and the loungers set out along the beach with red and white parasols, looking like lollipops from a distance. Laughter from the bar echoed around the cove, and she smiled, momentarily lost in that other world. Nikki! The thought jolted her. Her eyes desperately wanted to seek Nikki out, her mind curious, her heart unsure. Her pulse racing, she changed direction and headed for the lower ridge, overlooking the isolated, abandoned, east-cove, and the moored Sophia II.

  By the time she stopped at the ledge her legs were trembling and her mind was a blur, a physiological response for which she could find no legitimate and logical explanation. Nikki Kefalas. Surely not! She slumped heavily on the sandy ridge and supported her back against the grassy bank. Even the cheerful music emanating from the large cabin cruiser didn’t raise a smile. She studied the vessel with its chrome rails glistening in the sun, the white of its bows blinding-bright, the British flag hanging limply in the absence of any breeze.

  Twenty years. She had convinced herself Nikki would have moved on, and maybe she had. Seeing the taverna though, the leisure crafts, the ferry, and hearing the laughter, she hadn’t expected those feelings to come flooding back, and she was suddenly less sure. With all the years that had passed and the fact that they had never spoken since she left, it hadn’t seriously occurred to her that Nikki would be here. Yes, she had briefly considered it of course but dismissed the idea as highly unlikely. Nikki had always been the stronger of the two of them; she was talented, stunningly beautiful and would surely have made a life for herself off the island, somewhere more… cosmopolitan, and with a woman who loved her.