Despite being naturally sceptical about anything supposedly supernatural, Stella didn’t feel entirely convinced. ‘What if she meant Harriet? Does she mean I’m going to die too?’
‘Don’t be silly. She’s just a weird woman who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.’
‘She didn’t seem weird.’
Louise paused for a moment. It was true, they’d both liked Marina straight away. She had warmth and style – and was clearly a talented artist. But that didn’t mean she could predict the future. She wasn’t the prophet Cassandra, for God’s sake!
‘Let’s keep going,’ Louise urged. Even her walking seemed angry. ‘Look, I know it was unsettling back there. I wish it hadn’t happened. Maybe she fancies herself as a fortune-teller. It must get pretty dull here in winter with no tourists. The locals probably need someone like her to liven things up.’
‘D’you really think so?’ Stella was still doubtful.
‘Absolutely. Marina doesn’t know about Harriet, remember. I reckon she was trying to intrigue you, to draw you in. P’raps it’s the way she sells her paintings, getting tourists interested in her so they flock to her studio. Don’t give her any more thought, she’s not worth it.’
Stella was quiet after that, until they reached the cottage of Eleni Manousaki, the elderly woman with the chickens.
The door was open, though the owner was nowhere to be seen. A grey and white cat was lying on its side on the front step, enjoying the warm sun.
‘Oh look, kittens!’ Stella cried, pointing to three or four tiny balls of fluff nestling against their mother’s tummy, half hidden in her fur.
She crouched down to look more closely. The kittens were all the same colour and very well camouflaged.
‘They can’t be more than a few days old. They’re so sweet!’
The mother cat gazed languidly at the two women and didn’t stir, but the tip of her tail twitched, warning them not to come any nearer.
Stella backed away, anxious not to upset her, but thanks to the distraction, she’d temporarily forgotten about Marina and managed to enjoy the last part of the journey, chatting with Louise about plans for the next two weeks.
‘We must visit the palace at Knossos if we have time,’ Stella said, ‘and I’d like to do the Aradena Gorge. The photos look amazing.’
‘Josh said we have to visit the caves at Matala. The Romans used to bury their dead there and apparently in the sixties, they were occupied by hippies.’
Josh was Louise’s on-off partner. They didn’t live together, and Stella had a feeling Louise wanted more commitment, perhaps marriage, even, but he didn’t. She’d tried asking Louise about it, but she was too proud to admit it.
When things were going well, she and Josh seemed to have a lot of fun, but all too often, he became distant for no apparent reason and failed to call. At these times, she threw herself into her work and pretended not to care, but she wasn’t herself and it was obvious she really minded very much indeed.
Stella was surprised her friend put up with her boyfriend’s careless behaviour, especially when she was so strong in other ways. She felt a bit sorry for her in this regard, but couldn’t offer help or advice unless Louise opened up and asked for it.
The women had almost reached the sandy track that led to the gates of the villa when Stella caught the toe of her boot on a tree root and fell to the ground.
She landed on her hands and knees and rolled onto her back, where she lay for several seconds, hugging herself into a ball.
‘Ouch! That really hurt.’
Louise crouched down and looked anxiously at her friend. ‘Are you okay?’
With help, Stella managed to sit up enough to examine her wounds. The palms of her hands were covered in grazes, and dark-red blood was trickling down her calf from the cut on her knee.
‘More injuries,’ she said gloomily, reaching in her back pocket for the wodge of tissues Louise had given her earlier and dabbing at the blood. ‘I wasn’t looking properly.’
‘The cut isn’t too deep,’ Louise commented. ‘I bet it’s painful, though. D’you think you can walk back to the house?’
Stella leaned on Louise’s shoulder as she hobbled and hopped towards the villa. The cut stung, there was a lot of blood down her lower leg and the big bruise on her other knee had turned deep purple.
‘I wish I wasn’t so clumsy. I don’t feel as if I walk round with my eyes half shut, but maybe I do.’
‘Youareaccident prone,’ Louise agreed with a wry smile. ‘Maybe you should start wearing protective gear when you go out. I’ll get you a crash helmet and knee pads for Christmas.’
It was only a joke, but it reminded Stella of Marina’s disturbing words about soon being reunited with someone she loved, and her face fell.
Louise, noticing, frowned. ‘I’m sorry?—’
‘It’s all right.’ Stella pulled back her shoulders. She was smiling, but a shadow had passed over her and Louise cursed the artist yet again.
What Stella needed was a great big confidence boost, she was thinking. Not the strange mutterings of some crazy woman who thought she was the Oracle of bloody Delphi.
