Page 42 of The Little Greek Guesthouse

‘What?’

‘Your dad not talking about your mum.’

‘Oh.’ She shrugged. ‘I suppose. It’s just difficult for him, you know? Maria told me some stuff from when Mum was young.’

He nodded, the grave look still in his eyes, then glanced around and opened his arms a little. ‘So, doesn’t look like Theo’s here.’

‘No.’

‘Where next?’

Nina was running out of ideas. ‘The beach?’

They walked back down the path quickly, Nina panting a little as she tried to keep up with the loping strides George took with his long legs. The pit of her stomach hardened as she thought about her dad; she’d been convinced he’d be at the café or the mountain. She found herself veering between near-panic and anger; the logical part of her mind struggling to find a good reason why Theo would be out this late.

‘So are you going to stay in Kefalonia, or head back to Cardiff when Maria’s better?’ she asked, to distract herself from thoughts of what might have happened to her dad. She didn’t really care what George’s plans were, she told herself, as she found herself admiring how tightly his Beatles t-shirt was pulled over his broad shoulders as he walked ahead of her.

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, things are a bit – up in the air, at the moment. And there’s – I’m keeping busy here, working at the rescue centre when Yia-Yia doesn’t need me, and that’s good, so . . .’ He puffed a bit as he spoke, his voice trailing off, and Nina felt gratified that she wasn’t the only one out of breath. She hadn’t thought of him as being sporty, particularly, he’d struck her as more of a bookish type. Unlike Vassilis, who was clearly fit and Sam, who had carefully sculpted his body with regular workouts. But, as she watched George stride ahead, she realised he had more of a naturally fit physique: lean and muscled.

Nina shook herself.

Where could Theo be?

When they reached the beach, Nina knew immediately that he wasn’t there. The place was deserted. George gave her a sympathetic glance, seeing immediately that Theo wouldn’t be found here.

‘Perhaps we’ve missed him, and he’s gone back home?’ George asked softly.

Nina had been thinking this too. ‘If he’s curled up all comfy in bed I’ll throttle him,’ she said, attempting a laugh, but it came out wrong, strangled by worry. She picked up her phone and called him.

Nothing.

She rang and rang. He was a light sleeper; if he was there he would wake and answer.

Nothing.

‘Oh god, where is he?’ she asked, her voice shaking.

George looked out to sea, running a hand through his hair. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find him.’ He turned to her, blue eyes earnest. ‘We’ll keep looking until we do,’ he said, his voice calm and strong with determination.

Nina nodded. She couldn’t speak for the tears blocking her throat. But she was suddenly so grateful to have him there with her.

‘Thank you, George,’ she said.

‘No problem.’ He smiled at her, then looked thoughtful. ‘Perhaps he went looking for you?’

It was as good a suggestion as any; Nina was out of ideas at this point. She nodded, and they turned to walk away from the beach and down the path out of Metalios.

They hurried along the dusty road, the scent of the flowers and grasses in the verge mingling with that of hot tarmac. Nina found herself repeating a mantra in her mind: we’ll find him, we’ll find him.

But still, she couldn’t imagine why he’d be here at this time. Or where else he might be.

Ahead, as the sweet, sprawling buildings of Metalios that she’d become so familiar with were left behind, she saw a dark heap on the roadside. Her stomach dropping, Nina broke into a run, George at her side. It couldn’t be him, it just couldn’t.

But she knew it was.

She slid to a halt on the gritty road, falling to her knees next to him as he lay, curled on his side in the dirt.

‘Baba!’ she cried, her voice high and shaking.