“Minutes,” he whispered. “The men are at the port. They are waiting. I cannot—”
“I understand,” Katerina said. Not because she did but because he needed to hear it. Her gift to him would be to let him go knowing that she would survive, would wait, would love him. When he walked away from her, Stefanos did not look back.
There was suddenly not enough air in her lungs. She gasped, coughing and spluttering. The ground came up to meet her, and she dug her hands through the mud and the dust, her fingers gouging the earth as she wept into Leni’s shoulder.
Neighbors and friends stared as they climbed the hillside, trading looks Katerina refused to meet. All she wanted was to slip back into the silence of their room, into the space that still held his shape, and close her eyes to this new world without him.
Then the screaming began.
Thirty-seven
The sun was already high when Joy appeared, a vast straw bag slung across her shoulder and sunglasses perched in her freshly washed hair.
“It’s the perfect day for an outing,” she declared.
Skye hesitated in the open doorway. She was still half-tethered to the heavy mood that had hung over her since the encounter with Andreas two days ago.
“An outing to where?”
“To Chora,” Joy said brightly. “I need to pop in and see Sander at his gallery, and thought I might chuck a sickie from life after that, play tourist for the day.”
“I’m not sure,” Skye began.
“Oh, come on,” Joy needled. “It won’t be half as fun on my own. I haven’t even been up to the church over there yet, have you?”
Skye gave a small shake of her head.
“Not yet.”
“That settles it, then. Come on, Theo said he’d give us a lift.”
As usual when Joy was at the helm, resistance didn’t stand achance. Skye hurried upstairs to change out of the stained T-shirt she wore for painting and into a cotton dress patterned with palm fronds, brushing her hair as she followed Joy across the hillside to the idling jeep. George sat in the passenger seat, headphones on, iPad playing, his bare legs swinging in the footwell. When Skye’s “Hello” went unanswered, Theo turned, his hand on the gear stick.
“Sorry about him,” he said. “George has discovered NASA’s Johnson Space Center on YouTube. He’s barely come up for air since breakfast.”
“All that’s never interested me much,” Joy remarked. “Too many little green men down here on Earth, if you ask me.”
Theo stared at the dash for a beat before starting up the engine, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Speaking of men,” Joy continued, turning to Skye. “Have you seen Andreas lately?”
“Not for a few days.”
“Mia filled me in on the row he and Dusty had. The pair of them are like a couple of bloody kangaroos, fighting all the time. I’m sure his heart’s in the right place and all that,” she went on as Skye started to protest, “but he really needs to work on his delivery, you know? There’s a way of speaking to women, and that’s not it. No wonder the bloke’s single.”
In the rearview mirror, Theo’s eyes widened.
Not wanting to be disloyal, Skye changed the subject, pointing out a herd of goats at the roadside. Her friend from the ridge was among them, showing off nimble hooves as it hopped over a wall. They drove slowly through the village, pausing to wave at Pantelis in the taverna and at Louisa, who was outside the mini-market chatting with Klodi. Warm air flooded in through the open windows, and Joy extended an arm, her hand surfing on the current of wind. Having dropped them within walking distance of Chora,Theo carried on with George to the port. They were taking a lunchtime ferry across to Santorini, where they would picnic at the beach and explore the island’s capital, Fira.
“Won’t it be sardines over there?” Joy asked, darting a look toward George.
“Probably,” Theo allowed. “That’s why I am taking the Jeep, so we can make a quick exit if it gets to be too much. It’s a big place—more than twice the size of Folegandros. If we need to find somewhere quiet, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”
“Still can’t believe his wife left him,” Joy said as she and Skye watched them drive away. “Man like that and a boy as sweet as George? Makes no sense to me.”
“Matters of the heart rarely do,” Skye replied. “A lot of people probably looked at Martyn and me and thought I’d landed the jackpot. He’s handsome, charming, rich…”
“Sociopathic,” Joy finished.
