Tash explained she’d done several plays with the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford, she’d had a reasonably big part in a popular soap, which Cleo had heard of but never watched, and had performed in the West End twice.
‘Wow! I don’t call that “not particularly successful”,’ Cleo remarked. ‘It sounds like you’ve had an amazing career.’
Tash pulled a face. ‘Not really. I mean, I’ve had lots of quite long periods out of work. I think I might have come to the end of my acting career, to be honest. I’m fed up with it. I might try and find something else.’
Cleo fell silent for a moment. She was wondering why her new friend seemed so down on herself, but didn’t feel she knew her well enough to ask.
She guessed Tash was a little younger than her, in her early to mid-forties, perhaps, and she was certainly attractive. Cleo would have thought someone with her looks and charm would have had the world at her feet.
The steep, rocky path they were on was flanked by gnarled old olive trees, scrubby bushes and sweet-scented wildflowers. Soon, however, they reached a flatter, grassier part, dotted with brightly painted wooden boxes. Mark explained these were beehives.
‘Cretan honey is considered the best in the world,’ he said proudly.
Cleo paused and turned to look at where they’d come from. The rooftops of Porto Liakáda seemed a long way away. Surely it wasn’t far now? There was still no sign of the villa, though, or indeed, of any other people or dwellings. She refocused on the track, taking care not to stumble on the loose rocks and stones.
‘Do you have just the one son?’ she asked Tash, keen to take her mind off the climb. ‘Or have you got other children, too?’
‘Only Jamie,’ came the reply. ‘I’d have liked more kids but work got in the way and in the end, I left it too late. I did think about having another when Jamie was about eight, but then Alfie – my husband – fell ill.’
Her voice lowered. ‘I feel guilty Jamie doesn’t have a brother or sister, someone who’s got his back.’
‘What was the matter with your husband?’ Cleo asked gently, before adding quickly, ‘Don’t tell me if you don’t want to.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Tash, still staring ahead. ‘He had Acute Myeloid Leukaemia. He died two years ago. He survived quite a long time with it, though – almost six years. It was a miracle, really. We had a good five years longer with him than we’d expected.’
Cleo took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. That must be so hard.’
Tash shrugged. ‘Thanks. The worst thing was seeing Alfie suffer at the end. But Jamie and I, we’re a team,’ she went on, more brightly. ‘We somehow manage to pull each other through.’
‘He sounds like a wonderful son,’ Cleo commented, thinking it was no surprise Tash was feeling down about her job and probably the rest of her life, too. With luck, the retreat would give her a boost; she could certainly do with one herself.
Tash cleared her throat. ‘What about you? Are you married? Kids?’
‘Two children,’ Cleo replied. ‘Danny – Daniel – is twenty-two. He’s in his third year at Bristol studying Dentistry. Erica’s eighteen. She’s doing Law at Cardiff. She thinks she wants to be a solicitor.’
‘Wow!’ said Tash. ‘You must be very proud of them.’
Cleo felt a shadow creep over her. ‘I am.’ She swallowed. ‘I miss them a lot now they’ve left home.’
There was a pause while Tash took this in.
‘But they come back, surely? In the holidays?’
Cleo frowned. How could she explain she hadn’t seen Erica for six months, not since she’d left for her first term at university? She’d sound like a terrible mother. Erica hadn’t come back for Christmas or Easter, choosing instead to stay with her father and his new partner in Sussex.
It was too complicated to go into it now. Besides, Cleo was ashamed. Never in a million years would she have believed a few years ago that she and her daughter would become estranged.
She decided to tell a white lie. ‘They do both come home,’ she said, ‘but it’s not the same. The house feels so quiet…’ She hesitated. ‘I’m divorced, you see…’
Hearing herself say the word out loud made her wince. It sounded so harsh and alien. She still couldn’t quite believe it was true.
‘It’s just been finalised, actually,’ she went on. ‘A couple of months ago. It took a while to sort out all the details.’
They were interrupted by a cry, and a little way ahead, up the mountain, they saw Lesley stumble then fall. Fran stood staring at her, seemingly paralysed, covering her mouth with both hands.
Without thinking, Cleo threw down her backpack and found herself sprinting up the mountain. A sudden surge of energy, like a lightning bolt, seemed to make her fly, as if gravity no longer applied.
The two luggage carriers had clearly heard the cry, too, and they abandoned their trolleys and ran downhill to meet her.
