She was obviously used to being in control and solving problems, Cleo thought. No wonder she’d found her redundancy so hard to bear. She’d been brittle ever since, struggling to find purpose. Now, her need to lead and be useful was burning brightly again.
Meanwhile, every now and again Cleo spotted Tash strolling among the children, offering reassurance, telling stories and creating small games from sticks and debris. The children’s laughter was enough to convince Cleo her friend had managed to set aside her fear – for the time being at least. She was doing a sterling job of keeping up the kids’ spirits.
Achilles seemed to be everywhere, too, chatting, comforting and offering water, juice and biscuits, with his guitar slung across his back. When he wasn’t working, he played his music. His rich, deep voice carried across the garden, winding round the exhausted, frightened people and coaxing out small smiles.
At one point, Cleo caught sight of him crouched beside the very elderly gentleman, straining without success to lift him up from the ground where he was sitting.
There were no more urgent cases for her to deal with right now, and she thought she could do with a break and a chance to stretch her legs.
‘Need a hand?’ she asked, getting up from her knees and approaching Achilles. She’d told her other patients to wait, she’d be back soon.
‘I was about to ask you the same thing,’ Achilles said with a smile. ‘I don’t know much about first aid, though.’
The old man, whose long, thin legs were stretched out on the grass in front of him, told Cleo his name was Konstantin Makris.
‘Delighted to make your acquaintance,’ he said, with a polite flourish of his arm. Then he took her hand and pressed it theatrically to his lips.
Such old-fashioned chivalry seemed absurdly out of place amid the chaos surrounding them, but Cleo was rather charmed and it made her giggle.
Together, she and Achilles managed to get the old man to his feet and help him totter across the lawn to some bushes. They looked the other way while he had a pee, and a knowing glance passed between them.
Cleo’s stomach fluttered and her heart thumped. To her, that glance seemed to represent not just an acknowledgement of their effort but the presence of something strange and special between them – something fragile yet electric.
After taking Mr Makris back to his daughter Marina, she and Achilles paused for a moment a little way away from the rest of the group.
‘You’re good at looking after people,’ Achilles said, brushing some dirt from his hands.
‘I’ve had plenty of practice,’ Cleo replied, sensing a flush rise to her cheeks again. ‘I used to be a nurse.’
He smiled, a little mischievously, she thought.
‘It’s inspiring, you know, seeing someone in their element, confident and capable.’ His voice softened. ‘It makes me want to find something I can be really good at, too.’
Cleo felt her pulse catch. ‘I… thank you. But you play the guitar brilliantly. I wish I could dothat.’
‘Ah, but it’s not the same as curing wounds and making people better.’
‘No, but your music makes everyone happy,’ Cleo replied. ‘And that’s a real accomplishment.’
He nodded slightly by way of thanks and she tried to walk away, but something seemed to drag her back, like a magnetic force.
‘Cleo?’
His tone was gentle yet urgent. She turned to face him and his dark eyes seemed to draw her in, pulling her up close, so close that their foreheads and the tips of their noses almost touched.
She gave a little gasp and the next thing she knew, his lips were on hers, pressing softly at first, then more firmly. She couldn’t have protested if she’d tried.
Without thinking, her eyes closed and her lips parted slightly as she surrendered herself to the kiss. At the same time, his hands came up to cradle her face, ever so gently and tenderly, as if she were a priceless porcelain vase which could easily break.
Her heart was pumping and her legs felt weak and seemed to buckle, as if she might fall. It was like a dream. She was totally swept up in the moment, putty in his hands.
A shout some way off brought them both crashing back to their senses.
‘We can’t!’ she said, pulling away at last, and he took a step back.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what?—’
Cleo wouldn’t let him finish.
