* * *
That night, at supper, Louise announced she intended to take her children on a hike the next day to a different gorge. She made it clear this was a family only excursion and Amelia and Will had obviously been primed, because neither demurred.
Lily, sensing something was up, made no move to muscle in on the trip or try to dissuade her friend from going.
Instead, she looked wide-eyed and a bit puzzled.
‘What shall we do, Mum?’ she asked, childlike.
‘I don’t know. What do you fancy?’ Stella replied, not looking up from her plate. ‘We could go back to Sweetwater Beach if you like and do some more snorkelling?’
Hector, displaying a new-found geniality, actually supported the idea, and Stella suggested picking up some things for a picnic on their way to the taxi boat.
As there was no longer any pretence, in private at least, that she and Louise were on the same wavelength, she realised they’d probably spend the rest of the holiday going their separate ways as often as possible.
Perhaps the atmosphere would improve when and if Jon went home. But Stella was now so devastated about Al, she didn’t know if she had the energy to try to patch things up with Louise, or even cared enough.
Jon hardly spoke a word. He hardly ate, either, but sat swigging red wine until his lips stained violet and his teeth turned black.
He made no mention of any plans to fly home, but when he went upstairs to bed, Stella spotted him clumsily picking up the towel and yellow swimming trunks he usually left outside to dry.
It made her wonder if he’d booked a ticket for tomorrow, but she couldn’t face asking.
She was exhausted when she finally got to bed, but tossed and turned all night and barely slept. She still wasn’t sure whether to finish the holiday or go home early, but the news about Al and Sasha had rather taken over and she decided to delay the decision for now.
Listening to podcasts provided some distraction from the washing machine in her head, but all too soon, her husband’s handsome, gentle face would reappear, and she felt as if her heart would crack into a thousand little pieces.
It was a relief when light finally started to filter into the room and she rose and opened the shutters. Watching the sun rise, spreading its golden glow across the mountain and olive groves, helped to lift her spirits a little.
She showered in cool water, washed her hair and put on a clean pair of denim shorts and a pale-pink shirt, rolled up at the sleeves.
No matter how desperate she felt inside, she was determined today would be a happy one for her beloved children. The show would go on.
* * *
Louise, Will and Amelia left at around 7a.m. Stella heard their feet scrunching on the gravel drive and saw them set off in walking boots and sunhats, carrying their backpacks.
There was no sound coming from Jon’s room when she tiptoed downstairs and made herself coffee, which she took into the garden.
About an hour later, she went to wake Hector and Lily, as agreed. Hector’s room smelled of cigarettes and stale sweat, but she held her tongue and was relieved when he rose without complaint and pulled on his crumpled clothes, lying on the floor beside the bed.
Lily was grumpy and monosyllabic until she’d had a glass of orange juice and a couple of pieces of toast and honey. Then the three headed out in the cool morning air. No one asked if Jon were coming or even mentioned him.
There was a commotion outside the mini-market in Porto Liakáda, with April talking in a loud, agitated voice to a group of tourists holding maps and water bottles.
They were shaking their heads, and as Stella came closer, she heard them say in American accents they hadn’t seen anyone, while April kept repeating, ‘He can’t have vanished into thin air!’
When Stella approached to enquire what had happened, April threw up her arms in despair.
‘It’s Meaty! He’s gone again. He must have sneaked out of the house when I was changing the baby’s nappy. He didn’t want to go to school, the little bugger. He’s for it now!’
‘Oh dear!’ Stella glanced round rather half-heartedly because she doubted he’d be anywhere nearby. He was probably up the mountain now and wouldn’t venture down till school was over.
‘We’ll look out for him when we go to get the boat,’ she promised, before stepping into the shop, followed by Hector and Lily.
They bought fresh bread, local cheeses, ripe red tomatoes, olives, crisps and grapes, along with plenty of cold drinks.
April’s husband, Georgios, served them, but he didn’t seem particularly worried about his son.
