Maya looked at her friend fondly. ‘You make it sound simple.’
‘It is. One brick, one person, one new wound dressing at a time.’
When Maya had finished looking at the church, they went to help with a nearby row of houses. For a while, they worked side by side, passing buckets of rubble from hand-to-hand with the villagers.
Sweat darkened their clothes and their hair stuck to their faces, but Cleo felt a quiet joy in the rhythm of it – the scrape, the lift, the steady flow of effort towards something new.
The sun was fierce and when they needed a break, they took shelter under a fig tree.
Maya closed her eyes and tilted back her head, resting it against the knobbly tree trunk.
‘Do you think,’ she said, ‘that maybe the earth shakes not just to destroy us, but to shift us round and make us wake up?’
Cleo smiled. ‘That’s an interesting theory, but I’d have preferred a gentler nudge.’
Maya laughed. ‘True, but we mightn’t have listened.’
Cleo took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, too. When she opened them again, Achilles was coming towards her, carrying a large wooden beam.
His face lit up in a smile when he saw her but he said he couldn’t stop as he might drop the plank and never be able to lift it again.
Cleo offered to help and found herself trudging behind him as they carried the beam to a half-collapsed home. Sunlight caught his tousled hair and she giggled at his jokey, exaggerated walk, as if he were really struggling.
‘You’re a clown,’ she said.
‘I know, but it’s all your fault because you laugh at my jokes, which only encourages me. Most people either ignore me or tell me to stop being a fool, but you’ve got a sense of humour. You make things fun.’
When they reached the gaping entrance to the house, he stopped and leaned the beam against an outside wall. Then he turned and gave her a long, soulful look.
Cleo’s heart fluttered with a mixture of pleasure and panic. He was going to kiss her again, she was sure of it! Part of her desperately wanted it, but the other part…
Without thinking, she took a step back.
‘Achilles, I?—’
‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘I’m just a poor, penniless musician and you’re a clever, sophisticated British nurse.’
Heat rose to Cleo’s cheeks. ‘I’m not like that,’ she protested. ‘I don’t care about status and stuff. I can’t believe you think I do.’
He swallowed and fixed her with another deep gaze.
‘Look, I know we can’t be together – properly. Our lives are too different, we’re too different. But can we at least be friends?’
Tears pricked Cleo’s eyes and she took both his hands in hers and squeezed tight.
‘Ofcoursewe can,’ she said warmly. ‘I think you’re gorgeous. Youaregorgeous. Given half a chance, I’d jump on you and rip off all your clothes.’
He laughed. ‘Feel free.’
‘But you’re right,’ she went on seriously. ‘Our lives are different. Plus, your kids are here, and mine are in England. It would never work and I don’t want either of us to get hurt. I think we’ve both had too much pain in our lives already.’
He nodded and breathed in and out deeply. ‘I’d never hurt you, Cleo. I respect you too much for that.’
She left him at the door of the house and went to find Maya again, feeling both sad and a little relieved. She adored Achilles and could easily take things further. But she didn’t believe they were right for each other and a brief, doomed romance would only cause misery for them both.
Better to cherish the memories, she thought, and be grateful she’d met him and glad she’d rediscovered her desire. And of one thing she was absolutely certain – she’d never forget that kiss.
As she strolled back through the village, she noticed it was beginning to resemble its old self. Some children had been allowed down the mountain for the first time and were running along cleared streets.
