Jon was engaged in what looked like a lively chat with Meaty, April’s son. The boy was waving his arms round and at one point, Jon threw back his head and laughed.
Stella’s insides glowed like sunshine and she whispered silently to Harriet: ‘I wish you were here, Harry, but look! He’s going to be all right; we all are. Sometimes, miracles do happen.’
Later, they ate light, sweet-tasting grilled octopus with olive oil and lemon juice,Souvlaki, or skewers of barbecued pork and chicken, sea bream baked in the oven with onions, garlic, red wine, honey, paprika, cinnamon, oregano and basil, andKleftiko, a rich, flavoursome, slow-cooked lamb in tomato sauce, served in a clay pot. The meat was so tender, it fell apart on the fork.
By the time dessert came, some of the diners had no room left. However, the hardiest ones nibbled onSfakianpie, filled with local cheese and topped with honey, or sweetKalitsouniapastries, washed down withraki, the local fiery brandy flavoured with aniseed.
By now, eyes were bright and faces flushed. Nikos, the baby, had fallen asleep on April’s chest, while the next child up, a little girl, was nodding on her dad’s lap.
They must have been exhausted, because they didn’t even wake when a troupe of black-clad Cretan musicians turned up with alaouto, or Cretan lute, a lyra, or type of violin, and a long-necked tamboura. They set up in a corner of the restaurant and started playing a range of wild folk songs, led by a male vocalist with long black hair and a deep, sonorous voice.
People clapped along and laughed at the funny lyrics. Some even rose from their chairs, joined hands in a circle and began to perform a rhythmical dance. This started slow, but speeded up as the tempo increased and one of the men stepped into the centre of the ring and started twirling wildly in the air.
When he’d finished, the whole restaurant erupted in cheers, which made the baby wake and scream. Unable to console him, April signalled to her husband and the other children, who rose reluctantly and made their way towards Stella.
‘Thank you,’ April said with a big smile, before kissing Stella on the cheek. ‘We’ve had a smashing time. See you again next year, eh?’
‘I hope so,’ Stella replied, smiling back.
The family’s departure seemed to act like a cue for the others, who began to gather their things together and get up. Stella and Al stood at the end of the table to say goodbye, shaking hands and embracing everyone warmly.
Katerina and Marina were the last to leave, and Stella thanked Katerina for giving the two families and Jon the opportunity to enjoy beautiful Villa Ariadne.
‘Ah, you must thank her, not me,’ Katerina said, smiling mysteriously. ‘She knew you needed a helping hand.’
Stella glanced at Al, who looked slightly bemused, then at Marina, who linked arms with the housekeeper, drawing her close.
‘I will,’ Stella said, holding Katerina’s gaze. ‘I promise.’
* * *
They had a very early start the next morning. Hector was the last one down and Stella stood shivering on the gravel drive with the others while they waited for him.
Katerina had asked Stella to leave the keys in the special lock box at the side of the house. She said she’d be down later to clean the place and change the bedding, ready for the next visitors.
Once they were all assembled with their bags, Stella decided to do one last sweep of the house, to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind.
As she strolled round the bedrooms, checking the electrical sockets for forgotten phone chargers and under the beds for stray items of clothing, she found herself reflecting on who the villa’s next guest or guests might be.
Would they have got themselves into a terrible muddle, like the one she’d been in when she arrived? And would Villa Ariadne sort them out?
Downstairs, she took a last look at the paintings of Katerina’s employer, then at the one of Katerina herself, in her youth, looking young and beautiful.
She thought of the child, Marina, born in shame to the lady of the house, and given away. Katerina had always watched over Marina and her fragile birth mother. She’d given her life to this villa and faithfully kept its secrets.
Could a building have feelings and powers? If so, this one was full of compassion and healing. In her heart, Stella knew she might revisit Porto Liakáda, but she’d never stay here again; Villa Ariadne had worked its magic on her and her family. Someone else needed it now.
Outside in the cold air again, she closed the door for the last time and turned the heavy key in its lock.
‘Goodbye, Villa Ariadne,’ she whispered to herself, popping the key in its lock box and waiting for the click before twisting the combination digits.
A slight breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding trees, sounding like a gentle sigh, which resonated throughout her body. She closed her eyes and melted into its tender embrace.
Little by little, the sigh morphed into a soft, sleepy song, like a lullaby, swirling in the air all round her. She pricked her ears, listening carefully to the whispered lyrics, trying to make sense of them.
Just then, a loud voice pulled her from her reverie and made her start.
‘Hurry up!’ Al called. ‘Or we’ll miss the ferry.’
