The Holiday (4 page)

‘The little one is ours and the gin palace is owned by our neighbour,’ explained Laura, catching Izzy’s eye. ‘He leaves it here because the water is too rough by his place and it would get smashed to pieces on the rocks. Fancy swimming out to the raft?’

They left their towels on the rocks and slipped into the cool, clear water. The raft wasn’t far and they were soon climbing up the metal rungs and lying stretched out on their fronts on the sun-warmed decking. Though it was securely anchored, there was still a pleasing sense of motion and, with her eyes shut, Izzy felt as though she was drifting aimlessly. ‘Is every day going to be as perfect as this?’ she murmured, resting her head in the crook of her arm.

‘I told you you’d like it. And, trust me, it just gets better and better.’

‘You live a charmed life, you know that, don’t you?’ Laura turned on to her side. ‘I’d hate anyone to think that I don’t know exactly how lucky I am.’

Concerned that she may have inadvertently upset her friend, Izzy opened her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t implying you took it for granted, I only meant — ’

‘It’s okay. I know what you were getting at. But I’m all too aware that Max’s little empire could come crashing down at any time, taking everything with it. Including us. If that happens, then so be it. We’d have to adapt and get on with it. Meanwhile, I’m quite happy to live by the creed that he’s worked jolly hard for what he’s got and I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t make the most of it while he can.’

‘A sound enough creed in anyone’s book.’

They lay in silence, listening to the water lapping at the sides of the raft, and Izzy thought of her own rather more modest life at home. As a teacher in a small prep school her prospects were never going to reach the stratosphere of Max and Laura’s gold-edged lifestyle. On the whole she had always enjoyed teaching, but she was conscious that recently what had appealed most to her about her job were the long holidays. That could mean only one thing: a change was due. She had been at the school for too long. She was growing stale. Also she disliked, no, hated, the new head, a woman who had been brought in to wield the axe. At the end of term, last Friday, there had been so many redundancies made that Izzy was sure it was only a matter of time before she herself was dismissed. Art teachers were hardly a high priority. If cuts were to be made, it was a generally held view that any old fool could teach the little dears to cut and paste.

She frowned guiltily. She shouldn’t be here lazing in the sun on a raft, she should be at home scanning the
Times Educational Supplement
for a new job. But, hey, let the head make her redundant first.

It might even be for the best, given that her parting shot at the end of term had been that in the autumn the remaining members of staff were to dress in power suits. Power suits! What would she, an art teacher, do in a crisp two-piece? She didn’t have anything in her wardrobe that remotely resembled one. Her clothes, at best, could be described as ‘individual’, or maybe ‘eccentric’, but ‘cheap’ was closer to the truth. The racks and rails of her local branch of Help the Aged were her favourite stamping ground for last season’s fashion statements. Not that she was a complete fashion slouch - she knew a good label when she saw one and wasn’t slow in handing over an extra pound for quality, especially if she needed something for a special occasion. But a power suit?

Other than school, little else was going on in Izzy’s life, and had she been in danger of missing this, her mother had been only too quick to point it out to her. ‘I had hoped to be a grandmother by now,’ she had muttered on the phone, when Izzy was officially a single woman again. ‘With your inability to maintain a steady relationship there’s no chance of that ever happening, I suppose.’

‘I’m sorry to have denied you that pleasure,’ Izzy had said.

‘There’s no need to take that tone with me, young lady. A couple of grandchildren, is that really so much to ask for?’

In the circumstances, yes, it was.

Izzy had wanted children, but Alan had refused to entertain the idea. Just as he had refused to talk about marriage. ‘We’re okay as we are,’ he would say. ‘Why go changing things?’

Izzy sat up and looked towards the shore where a selection of villas nestled into the hillside. ‘Tell me about your neighbours,’ she said. ‘You and Max have often mentioned Theo, the man who sold you the villa, especially what a sex-god he thinks he is, but what about the others? What are they like?’

Laura sat up too and pointed to the furthest villa along the bay to the left. ‘That’s owned by an elderly French couple who have been coming here for over twenty years. They live in Paris and tend to keep themselves to themselves. And to the right is a villa with yellow shutters. Do you see it? It’s just peeping through the trees.’

Izzy squinted in the glare of the bright sun. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s owned by an Englishwoman, but nobody ever sees her. She used to come here for holidays with her husband, and when he died five years ago she moved in permanently.’

‘So why doesn’t anyone see her?’

Laura shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Everyone just accepts that she’s a recluse and lets her get on with it. Now, do you see the tatty little pink house?’

Again Izzy squinted her eyes. ‘Yes.’

‘That’s owned by another Brit. But he’s let it go to rack and ruin and struggles to rent it to tourists. Apparently it’s a mess inside and out. Moving up the hillside, there’s a tiny little villa that’s owned by a German businessman. According to the local gossip, he’s not coming this summer, so it will probably be rented too.’

‘Aren’t there any locals who live here?’

‘A few, but not many. Behind the German villa is where Dimitri and Marietta live. They own one of the jewellery shops in Kassiópi and spend their summers here, running the shop.’

‘And where do they spend their winters?’

‘In Athens, like Theo.’

‘So which is his place?’

Laura pointed to the right of Villa Petros, to the tip of the lush green headland. ‘That’s his. It’s lovely, isn’t it? Quite the best house in Áyios Nikólaos. It used to be an olive press but he’s done a wonderful job of extending and renovating it. It’s a bit of a hobby for him.’

Izzy gazed up at the attractive mellow stone villa. ‘What does he do when he’s not renovating old houses - and flirting with you?’

Laura smiled. ‘You’ve been listening to Max too much.’

Izzy smiled too. ‘He may have mentioned Theo’s interest in you.’

‘It’s just a game he plays. It’s nothing serious. No, what he’s really into is property. And lots of it. He owns half of Athens, if you believe a fraction of the scurrilous stories Angelos shares with Max.’

‘And who’s Angelos?’

‘He and his wife practically run Ayios Nikólaos. Without them we’d be sunk. They take care of our villa, as well as Theo’s and several others. Angelos does all the gardening and maintenance work, and Sophia does the cleaning. Look, that’s their house, to the left of ours and further up the hill. You’ll meet them soon. They’re nice, very friendly.’

Izzy stretched her arms over her head and yawned. She had been up since five and was beginning to feel tired. ‘And what about tomorrow, anything in mind for us to do?’

‘We’ve got nothing planned. That’s the beauty of coming here. It’s total relaxation. What’s more, I don’t even have to cook tonight. Max is going to impress you with his barbecue skills. It’ll just be the four of us.’

‘Four?’

‘Don’t worry, it’s only Theo joining us for the evening. Come on, I need to get out of the sun. Give me a head start and I’ll race you back to the beach.’

With a beer in his hand, Max was more than happy to be left to his own devices to deal with the intricate operation of lighting the barbecue. He waved Laura away with a stand-aside-and-leave-this-to-me expression and told her to go and relax.

Only too pleased to escape the rising cloud of smoke, she picked up her Campari and soda and went over to the group of wicker chairs, positioned to give them the best view of the setting sun when they settled there after their meal.

She leaned back into one and wondered how the evening would go. She was mildly surprised that Theo wasn’t here already. Her initial concern over him sweeping Izzy off her feet had done a surprising U-turn. She had a good feeling about the effect his company would have on Izzy. She didn’t know of a single woman who wouldn’t relish being flattered by an attractive man. The reverse was also true, of course. Men found the flirtatious attention of a beautiful woman an irresistible draw. The difference between the two was that men were inclined to take the passing attention of a woman seriously - Wow, I always knew I was a catch! - while women treated it as they would a fragrant waft of freesias: lovely, but not lasting.

Which was as close as one could get to describing Theo. He was lovely, all right, but any intimate relationship with him would almost certainly be short and sweet.

Throughout last summer when she and Max had occasionally stayed with Theo while the finishing touches were being put to Villa Petros, Laura had seen him in action with a number of women he brought with him from Athens. She had asked him once if he ever grew tired of the rapid turnaround in his love life.

‘You are implying that I lead a shallow existence, Laura, is that it? Well, do not worry yourself on my account, I am quite happy as I am.’

She didn’t doubt that he was happy, she just wondered if he could be happier.

Max had agreed with her, saying that he was a curious man. ‘When he’s having a drink on his own with me he’s quite different,’ he said, during one of their many conversations about Theo, ‘but put a woman in front of him and it’s as if a switch flicks - he goes into supercharged charmer mode.’

Hearing a change in the strength of the waves on the rocks below, Laura turned her gaze out to sea. One of the many Minoan ferries that passed this way between Brindisi and the port at Corfu Town was gliding across the horizon. Its smooth passage made her wonder just how smooth Theo would be this evening. What kind of a performance would he put on for Izzy’s benefit?

And how would Izzy react?

Laura had deliberately not told her anything of the conversation she had had with Theo that morning. If she did, Izzy would automatically be on her guard, which would create an atmosphere of hostility between them. That would be a great shame.

No. It was much better that Izzy worked Theo out for herself, in her own time and in her own way, and decided just how seriously to take him. If she had any sense she would treat him in exactly the same way Laura did. Besides, Laura didn’t want anything to spoil Izzy’s holiday. After the tough year she had had, what with Alan, her father dying, and her dreadful mother to contend with, a relaxing summer was the least she deserved.

The sound of footsteps on the stony path below the terrace told her that Theo was about to make his entrance. ‘Act one, scene one,’ she muttered to herself, getting up from her chair and going to meet him.

On seeing him she burst out laughing: he was carrying a bottle in each hand and between his teeth there were two long-stemmed roses. She took the wine from him and led him to where Max was opening another beer.

‘Oh, Theo,’ gushed Max, ‘red roses! How sweet! Really, you shouldn’t have.’

‘Ignore him,’ said Laura. ‘It’s the fumes from the barbecue coals, they go straight to his head. One of those roses for me?’

‘But of course, my darling Laura. Though only if I am permitted a kiss in exchange.’ He leaned into her, was about to kiss her mouth when she neatly twisted her head and he had to make do with her cheek.

‘She’s getting too quick for you, Theo,’ laughed Max. ‘Now what can I get you to drink? Beer, wine, ouzo, gin and ... Ah, Izzy, there you are.’

Both Laura and Theo turned to see Izzy coming towards them. She was dressed in a black camisole top with a calf-length flowing skirt, also in black, and on her feet she wore a pair of espadrilles. Even though she had spent scarcely any time in the sun that day, she was already exhibiting a tan. With her shoulder-length dark brown hair pulled back into a loose plait, she looked all of twenty-five. Laura would have liked to study Theo’s face closely to see what his initial reaction was, but the telephone rang inside the villa.

‘Can you get that, love?’ Max said. ‘I’ve just put the kebabs on. If it’s for me,’ he shouted after her, ‘and it seems urgent, tell them I’ll call back later.’

‘It looks as if we shall just have to introduce ourselves,’ said Theo. ‘Theo Vlamakis, friend to Max and Laura Sinclair, and hopefully soon to become your friend.’ He offered Izzy the rose. ‘To wish you a relaxing holiday here in Áyios Nikólaos. May today be the start of a happy love affair.’

Izzy took the rose from him, ‘A love affair?’ she repeated, thinking that he was George Clooney to a T. He had the same short dark hair, flecked with grey, and the same thick eyebrows above a pair of magnetic black eyes. Dressed in cream linen trousers with a pale peach short-sleeved shirt that showed a finely worked gold chain at his throat, there was no mistaking the aura of natural glamour and appeal about him.

‘Yes, a love affair with Corfu and its beguiling people, of course,’ he said. ‘Now it is your turn. You have to introduce yourself.’

Self-conscious, but charmed by his words and manner, Izzy held out her hand and said, ‘Izzy Jordan, friend to Max and Laura Sinclair, and I’ve a confession to make. I’ve heard a lot about you already.’

He gave a ceremonious little tilt of his head, took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I am very pleased to meet you, Izzy Jordan. Though it seems you have the advantage. I know hardly anything about you. Is it very bad what Laura has confided in you about me? Does she make me sound like the empty-headed buffoon?’

Izzy laughed and withdrew her hand. Goodness, he was smooth. ‘She speaks very highly of you, as a friend and a neighbour.’