PRESENT DAY
Ella stepped off the boat and took out her map, trying to figure out where she was and where she had to go. On the boat, she’d managed to find a kind man who spoke a little English, and he’d clearly marked the path she needed to take—it seemed as if everyone knew the house she was looking for. Apparently she would be able to walk without needing transport, but she decided to stop for coffee first. She wasn’t sure if it was because she needed the caffeine, or because she was grateful for anything that delayed her journey; either way, she didn’t need much convincing to stop. She was also thinking about Gabriel and how nice it had been to have him on holiday with her—he’d left on one ferry to return to London, as she’d got on another to go to Alonissos.
She ordered her coffee and sat outside in the sunshine, taking the worn photo from the little box in her bag and staring at the woman and the girl, as she’d already done so many times since she’d been given the clues. Part of her wondered if she wasn’t on a wild goose chase—what were the chances of this woman being the link to her grandmother’s past? The more she’d had time to think about it, the less likely it all seemed. Ella sighed, still staring at the photo in her hands, of two minds about following through with her plans at all.
‘Do you know them?’
Ella jumped and almost knocked the coffee from the server’s hands, not having realised he’d come to stand beside her. ‘Sorry, I was lost in thought.’
The server placed the coffee down, leaning on the chair beside her as he pointed at the picture. ‘How do you know the women in the photo?’
She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun. ‘I think one of them could be my great-grandmother.’
The server made a face as if he wasn’t convinced. ‘Do you know who they are?’
‘Yes,’ she said, slowly. ‘Well, I’ve been told who they might be, but—’Why am I even having this conversation with a stranger?‘Sorry, do you know them? Are they familiar to you?’
He grinned. ‘I know Alexandra, we all do. She comes here every morning for her coffee.’
‘She does?’ Well, at least that meant she was on the right island. The information she’d gleaned over the past few days had clearly been correct.
‘She takes it black with three drops of milk, and she always has a spoonful of sweets on the side.’
He smiled and pushed off from the chair, leaving her to her thoughts and her coffee. Ella was slowly getting used to the strong black coffee she’d been served in Greece since she’d arrived, but she could see why sweets or pieces of Turkish delight were so popular to consume alongside them—they added sweetness to the otherwise bitter flavour of the drink.
Once she’d finished, Ella stood and slipped the photo against the map, deciding to carry both as she set off to find the house. When she arrived, she would show it to Alexandra if she opened the door—it might keep it from being closed in her face if she had something to give her.
Fifteen minutes later, Ella stood outside a very pleasant, very large home halfway up the hill. The cobbled paths and pretty shuttered houses reminded her of Skopelos; everywhere she looked there was a picture-postcard scene. Until she’d visited herself, she’d almost wondered if Greece could actually be as pretty as it appeared in photos. She could confirm that it most definitely lived up to expectations.
Ella lifted her hand, taking a deep breath before knocking three times against the wooden door.
She waited, trying to focus on breathing calmly, before eventually knocking again. She hadn’t really thought about what she’d do if nobody was home. Would she come back the next day? She looked around to see if anyone was watching from the other houses, wondering if she could show the photo around to see if she was at least at the right house, when a voice called out from inside.
Ella wasn’t sure what she’d said, but she waited, nonetheless.
The woman didn’t sound as old as she’d expected, and she wondered if it could be a housekeeper. Or the wrong house. Trust her luck, to have knocked at the wrong door.
But when the door finally swung open, her breath caught in her throat and she found herself lost for words. The woman had black hair streaked heavily with grey, pulled back into a bun, and appeared even younger than Ella’s own grandmother had been. She wore minimal make-up, with a light red lipstick that made her look effortlessly elegant, dressed simply in a silk tank top and slacks. As Ella stared at her, she could well imagine that this woman had come from a privileged background—there was a presence about her that commanded attention, despite her age.
‘May I help you?’ she asked in perfect English that barely betrayed a hint of an accent.
Ella cleared her throat, not used to being so lost for words.
‘Alexandra?’ she asked. ‘Alexandra Konstantinidis?’
The woman blinked back at her, nodding ever so slightly.
‘My name is Ella, and I know this will very likely come as a shock, and I might be entirely wrong, but I was given this photo. From what I can gather, it appears to be a photograph of you and your mother, taken many years ago.’ Ella held it out and watched as the woman hesitated at first, as if unsure about taking it at all. She caught her breath, trying to slow down when she spoke the next time. ‘Alexandra, I’ve been led to believe that one of the women in this photo might be my great-grandmother. That perhaps you are related to me?’
The woman took the photograph, her hand trembling as she stared down at it. When she finally looked up, her bottom lip was trembling too, and her eyes were damp with tears.
‘YouareAlexandra Konstantinidis?’ Ella asked. ‘You are the girl in the photograph? Or have I made a terrible mistake in knocking at your door?’
Ella’s brow furrowed as she stared at the woman. She’d expected her to be so much older. This woman couldn’t possibly be her great-grandmother.
Ella started to back away. ‘I’m so sorry I bothered you, I—’
‘I always wondered if this day would ever come,’ the woman finally said, reaching out her hand and taking hold of Ella’s, gripping her fingers tightly arounds hers. ‘I’ve imagined a thousand times over what this moment would be like.’
