‘If that’s what you want,’ she’d said wearily, wiping away the tears that had started to trickle down her cheeks. ‘You’re probably right. I can’t give you what you need. Perhaps it’s for the best.’
‘We’ll speak to the kids tomorrow. I’ll find a flat nearby with a spare room, so they can stay anytime. We’ll make this work for their sakes.’
‘You wish to buy?’ The stallholder waved the bag of herbs in front of Stella’s nose, making her snap out of her daydream.
‘Or something else?’ he went on. ‘Some basil? Saffron? Cumin?’
Stella shivered. ‘Not today, thanks.’
She looked round for Louise, who was on the other side of the street, holding up a beaded necklace, and put the money back in her purse before returning it to her bag.
‘I might come back tomorrow, sorry,’ she said, embarrassed, and she started to move away. ‘Thanks again.’
As the women wandered on, they heard quite a bit of English being spoken, as well as German, French and Spanish. Louise’s eye was caught by a leather shop, with a pair of gladiator-style Greek sandals in the window. There were also bags, belts, purses, glasses cases and wallets on display in a multitude of colours.
‘Shall we go in?’ she asked, and Stella nodded, following her friend into the dark room, which smelled of oil and wax, chemicals and perfume. It was a heady mix but Stella liked the scent; it reminded her of the favourite leather jacket her father wore when she was a child.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she became aware of a very old man sitting behind the wooden counter. He had snow-white hair and a bushy white moustache. A jaunty red and white scarf was tied round his neck and knotted in front, like a cravat.
Stella nodded in greeting before asking if she and her friend could browse.
‘Of course,’ the man said with a charming smile, supporting himself with his hands on the counter top while he rose as gallantly as he could from his chair.
He was tall, extremely thin and deeply wrinkled. He had on a pale blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and the skin on his tanned arms looked as dry and fragile as parchment.
‘What can I do for you two ladies?’ Despite his advanced years, there was a definite twinkle in his eye. ‘It’s not often I see two beautiful women in my shop at the same time!’
The old devil! Stella laughed, but Louise wasn’t easily flattered and announced crisply that she wished to try on a pair of the gladiator sandals.
The man produced a wooden stool from behind the counter for her to sit on, before rootling round in a room at the back of his shop for the right size.
On returning with a shoebox, he swayed from side to side like bamboo in a gale and Stella steeled herself to catch him. Luckily, there was no need. By extending his arms like windmill sails, he managed to balance long enough to hand the box to Louise, before tottering back to his seat and slumping down with a barely disguised sigh.
Surely he should be taking it easy, not working in a shop? Stella felt quite angry on his behalf, until she decided he must enjoy the job and it probably kept him young. His body was falling apart but there was certainly nothing the matter with his mind.
Louise loved the tan leather sandals, which strapped up the ankle and had a double buckle fastening.
‘Do I look like an ancient Greek noblewoman in them?’ she joked, admiring her feet from several angles.
‘Like Aphrodite!’ the old man replied with a wheezy smoker’s chuckle. ‘Or Hera, the queen of Olympus!’
‘Not Maximus, anyway,’ Stella commented wryly, meaning the Russell Crowe character from the Hollywood film,Gladiator. ‘Your legs aren’t hairy enough.’
After paying for the sandals, Louise was on the point of leaving when the old man mentioned his daughter, Marina.
‘She’s an artist, a painter. She’s very good. You should take a look at her work. She sells it from her studio. It’s right here, at the end of the street.’
Stella said they’d definitely pay a visit, which seemed to please him. However, when he asked where they were staying and she told him, his expression changed.
‘That place?’ he said with a sneer, which took her aback. ‘It shouldn’t be rented to foreigners; it should be lived in by a person from this island, a local person or people. It’s not right.’
‘Oh,’ Stella said, wide-eyed. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.’
The old man shook his head and waved his hand in the air dismissively.
‘It’s not your fault.You’vedone nothing wrong.’
Stella glanced at Louise, who appeared as mystified as she was.
