One
It was only a key.
Slim. Grooved. Silver.
But pressed into Skye’s palm, it felt like something more. A beginning.
A paper tag dangled from it, a number inked in thick black strokes that matched the one on the plaque by the door.Herdoor, she reminded herself.Herhouse.
She slid her thumb along the shaft, rotating the key until it caught the light, a white-hot flash that made her pupils contract. The fierce heat that had greeted her at the port was dogged in its pursuit, and Skye shifted beneath the weight of it, senses alert as she breathed in the scent of dust, heard the distant buzz of a tinny engine, looked down to see lilac petals strewn in artful heaps along the stone pathway, a beauty so raw as to be insolent.
“Change Your Life for €1,” the headline had read, and Skye had clicked on the link—of course she had clicked on the link. Following similarly successful schemes that had been launched in France and Italy, the municipality of a remote Greek island wasoffering six individuals the chance to buy a house for one euro. There were stipulations, naturally. The new owners must commit to spending a minimum of two years on Folegandros and must renovate their properties—all six of which had been abandoned since the end of the Second World War—in a manner that was in keeping with the traditional village setting. Demand was expected to be high, and in order to give every person an equal chance of winning, there would be a lottery. The button to place a one-euro bid had been at the bottom of the article, the deadline for entries just hours away. It had felt like fate.
Skye had the key in the lock when she heard the crunch of approaching feet and turned in time to see a man coming toward her. When she recoiled, he stopped, raising both hands in the universal gesture of surrender.
“English?” he asked in a voice that was heavily accented.
Skye agreed with a murmur that she was.
“You are one of the lottery winners,” he said.
There was no upward inflection to the statement, and Skye did not immediately reply. Instead, she allowed herself a few beats in which to study him, take in the heavy brows above shrewd dark eyes, pale short-sleeve shirt tucked into belted jeans, workmen’s boots knotted tight. He was taller than her, but not so tall that it was notable, and seemed harmless enough. Though didn’t they always?
Skye folded her arms.
“You heard about that, then?” she said, to which he nodded briskly.
“Of course. We are all”—he paused, chewed over his next word, searching, perhaps, for the correct one to use—“eager to see who is coming.”
“Am I the first?” she asked, though the question was rhetorical. The woman who’d presented her with the key had told her asmuch. Skye had registered a slight reticence on her part, as if by turning up one day prior to the agreed moving date of June 3, she’d upset the proverbial cart. It was unclear whether the locals had been consulted about the scheme, though she had to assume some form of permission had been granted. If the village of Ano Meria’s existing inhabitants were hostile toward their new neighbors, it would very quickly become impossible for them to live side by side, let alone harmoniously.
The man rubbed a hand across his stubbled jaw, smoothing out the beginnings of a smile.
“In Greece, we have a saying for those who like to be early,” he said. “It goes something like ‘The children of the wise cook before they go hungry.’ ”
Skye considered this.
“Where I’m from, we say it’s the early bird that catches the worm,” she replied, and was rewarded with a gravelly laugh.
“Where do you live in England?” he asked.
Skye motioned to the house, then more widely into the space around them.
“This is where I live now,” she said. “What came before no longer matters.”
“Entáxei,” he said. “So, you want to become a Greek?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” Skye unfolded and refolded her arms.
“If you say you are a Greek, then I promise not to argue with you.”
“Thank you.”
“But you must understand that we do not have many Greeks here with hair like yours.”
Skye patted her blond locks self-consciously.
“And you will have to work on your accent.”
