“Soon it will be the school holiday,” she said with a sigh. “No peace for me.”
An unexpected lightness surged through Skye.
“I could give her some English lessons,” she said. “I’m already teaching George two days a week, so she’d have someone other than me to practice with. Ajax can come, too.”
Cora gasped.
“Are you sure?” she said, and when Skye nodded, Cora ran around from behind the counter to hug her.
“We will pay you,” she said, shaking her head when Skye began to protest. “Óchi—of course. We must, and you must take something now, a gift.”
“Really, there’s no need to—” The words died on Skye’s lips as Cora hurried out through the open back door, returning a moment later with a bulging bag.
“Klodi caught two octopuses this morning,” she said as Skye and Joy peered down at a tangle of tentacles. “It’s been drying onthe line, so the meat will be tender, perfect for your matsata. All you have to do is grill it, then mix it with the tomatoes, some garlic, a little herbs.”
Skye raised the bag, stepping back as water dripped onto the countertop.
“Perímene,” Iris said, taking a newspaper from the rack and peeling off the top few pages.
“Kaló karýtsi,” Cora told her warmly, taking the bag and upending its contents.
Skye said nothing.
She didn’t hear the octopus being wrapped or the chatter of Joy, Cora, and the children. A low buzzing filled her ears. Words surfaced in fragments, though none she could grasp. Bile burned her throat, the hand she brought up to her mouth trembling as she stared down at the open newspaper.
At the story.
At the photographs.
At herself.
Twenty-eight
“Can I take this?”
Skye’s voice was hoarse. She reached for the newspaper, covering the image of herself with a splayed hand.
“Of course,” Cora said, seemingly nonplussed. She must not have seen the article yet, though it could only be a matter of time.
Mumbling incoherently that she’d be in touch about the English lessons, Skye grabbed her bags and stumbled from the shop, Joy following a few moments later.
“Are you all right?” she said, running to keep up.
Skye tried to say yes, but she couldn’t force the word past the lump in her throat. Instead she leaned into the wind and continued to walk back toward the main road, toward home.
A horn sounded, and she swung around to see a truck slowing to a crawl. It was Andreas, his elbow resting on the open window, curls blowing around a smile that fell when he saw the look on her face. Skye said nothing; all she could do was stare at him.
“You on your way up the hill?” Joy called, panting slightly as she caught up with them.
“Nai,” he said, not taking his eyes off Skye. “Can I offer you a lift?”
Joy pulled open the back door, but Skye remained where she was.
“I’d better not,” she mumbled, holding up a carrier bag. “There’s an octopus in here and it’s dripping everywhere.”
“Do you think I care about a bit of water in the truck?” he replied, his tone more teasing.
Skye shrugged.
