Andreas made a low whistle.
“That does not explain how you convinced him to leave you alone,” he said.
Skye rubbed her hands over her face.
“For you to understand that,” she said, “I’ll need to tell you a little story about a watch…”
Fifty-seven
Skye went back to the start.
She told Andreas everything, ignoring the temptation to gloss over the less-palatable parts she had played. Lying, pretending, faking—they were all past tense. Honesty had stepped up and eradicated the lot.
He said little, though listened intently, head bent toward her, his lips slightly parted.
Filiá wandered out to join them. The dog pressed her cool snout into Skye’s hand before crossing to the discarded socks to give them a sniff.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “What I think is that you are a brave person.”
“I might’ve agreed with you yesterday,” Skye said. “But then I read the rest of the letters.”
She glanced down at the tote bag on her lap.
“I brought them here to show you,” she said. “When the earthquake happened, part of the wall upstairs at my house fell in.There’s a hollow on the landing, between the two bedrooms. I felt around inside and found a pouch containing some dogs tags, a gold cross, and a Nazi medal. I don’t know who the last one belonged to, but I think I do know how the other things got there.”
“They were all together inside your house?” Andreas frowned.
“It’s all linked,” she said. “The remains in my garden, the saber Dusty found, the dog tags. The only puzzle still to solve is that of the person buried under the lime tree in the empty house.”
“It is not the same man who wore the tags and the cross?”
“No,” she said. “Something else happened to him.”
Andreas cocked an eyebrow.
“Will you tell me?”
Skye inched the bag toward him.
“I think it’s better if Katerina does that herself.”
Andreas stretched his arms above his head, yawning widely.
“Must be catching,” Skye said, nodding toward Filiá. The little dog was turning around in ever-decreasing circles, trying to find a comfortable spot on Andreas’s socks. “Do you want me to go so you can sleep?”
“Éla, no.” Andreas reached down and patted her hand. “I want you to walk with me.”
They went together down the steps and crossed onto the beach, his arm brushing against hers, a light morning breeze blowing loose strands of hair across Skye’s cheeks. It was still quiet, though more of the surrounding shutters had been opened, the new day welcomed inside. Filiá followed them, her nose to the ground, stubby tail wagging.
“Will you keep her?” Skye asked.
Andreas made a soft tutting sound.
“I am too busy. But she is a nice dog. I am sure she will find a new home soon.”
“Maybe she could come and live in the village—although I’m not sure how Tigri would feel about that. He already has Bruno to contend with.”
