‘It’s beautiful,’ Fran said.
Lesley glared at her. ‘Beautiful? Are you mad? I can barely stand up.’
‘You could sit down,’ Cleo suggested.
‘I get seasick sitting.’
‘You also get seasick standing, lying down and when the sea’s nowhere near,’ Fran said quietly.
Cleo nearly choked.
Lesley stared at Fran in open astonishment. ‘What did you say?’
Fran clapped a hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean?—’
Just then, Cleo caught Tash’s eye and they both burst into helpless laughter. Soon, Maya joined in and the three of them had tears running down their cheeks.
Fran’s face turned bright red, but there was a sparkle in her eye.
Meanwhile, Lesley folded her arms. ‘I see what’s happening,’ she declared. ‘Everyone’s against me because I said a few home truths at the camp. I told it how it was, because?—’
‘Because you were awful,’ Fran butted in.
The words dropped like stones onto the deck and Lesley’s jaw fell, too.
‘I beg your pardon?’
Fran swallowed hard. ‘You were awful, Lesley. I didn’t want to face up to the truth. I thought you were just being strong and opinionated, as usual, but you did nothing whatsoever to help with the rescue effort. You complained about everything and bossed me about. You treat me more like your assistant than your sister.’
Cleo stepped away a little, to give them space, and Tash and Maya followed, exchanging glances and pretending to be interested in a passing seagull.
‘I can’t believe this,’ Lesley said. ‘All my life I’ve supported you through everything. You’re hopeless without me.’
‘I’m not,’ Fran replied, softly but firmly. ‘Not any more. I’ve learned I can stand on my own two feet.’
Lesley gave a nasty laugh. ‘Well, good luck with that. You’ll be eaten alive and when it happens, don’t come crying to me for support.’
Fran looked at her with a mixture of sadness and clarity. ‘I won’t.’
Lesley blinked rapidly, as if Fran had slapped her. Then Cleo stepped forward.
‘Fran, do you want to come and sit with us?’
Fran nodded.
Lesley opened her mouth to protest, but something stopped her. Instead, she stumbled to a bench and sat alone, clutching a paper bag, while the others made their way downstairs.
A special bus was waiting for them at the ferry terminal to take them to Chania. When they arrived, Fran helped an elderly man with his luggage and thanked the crew in Greek. Cleo lost sight of her and Lesley for a while after that, as she, Maya and Tash chatted and looked out of the window.
In the city, the world seemed too fast and bright. Cars honked, lights flashed and people shouted. The place had clearly been damaged by the quake, but not as badly as Porto Liakáda.
The three women shared a final meal at the airport – Greek salad and glasses of crisp white wine. They chatted easily, but every now and then a thoughtful silence settled between them.
Tash was the first to speak.
‘You know, I think I might try my hand at writing. Not TV scripts, at least, not yet. Maybe a play about the earthquake and survival and a group of women who come together and rebuild more than just walls.’
Maya smiled. ‘You must. Just make sure you make my character really impressive.’
