Page 44 of The Little Greek Guesthouse

He was shaking his head. ‘Ah no, my Antheia, you were upset that’s all. This –’ He waved at his chest. ‘It’s not your fault. I was looking for you, I wanted to put things right, and then I got worried you were out late and I was upset I lost the bracelet and it just . . .’ He threw his hands up in the air. ‘The bracelet matters, it was your mama’s. You have the right to this upset.’ He nodded, expression serious. ‘We must find it.’

Nina shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said the words tearing at her heart. ‘It’s not like we’d ever forget her.’

He laughed. ‘Oh no. No one will ever forget that woman.’ He smiled and squeezed Nina’s hand. ‘And you are so like her, so brave and beautiful and stubborn and wild.’

‘Tell me more about how Mama was wild,’ she said, squeezing back.

‘Ah.’ He was smiling properly now, his eyes focused far away, lost in memories. ‘Wanting adventure never left her. You remember how she was always out doing something in the evenings, line dancing and pottery and reading poetry, all these crazy things and crazy friends that came with them.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘When we first met, you know, I thought she was . . .’ He traced an arc in the air with his hand. ‘Shooting star.’

‘Oh, Baba, how lovely.’

‘Oh, yes. Turning up here all alone, small girl with big rucksack. Purple hair.’ He chuckled. ‘Nothing could stop her, she went everywhere she was wanting, she had no plans and nowhere to stay but she had no worries about a thing.’

Nina held her breath. Theo had never spoken of her mum like this, even when she’d asked him to.

‘She wanted to try everything, swimming and climbing and diving and snorkelling, all the exploring. This is why she got on so well with Maria. You know Maria is much older, but that woman has the energy of a teenager still. And in those days she could match your mama, no problem. They were doing all the crazy things together and they both loved it. This is where you get it, this is why she loved it when you did all the climbing and everything.’ He smiled, squeezed her hand. ‘I never thought for a second she’d look at a boring boy like me.’

Tears pricked at Nina’s eyes. ‘Baba, you’ve never been boring.’

He shrugged. ‘Compared to my lady, yes. Lucky man I am.’

‘Mama was lucky too.’

‘She was happy. Such a happy soul. I tried every day to deserve her.’

They were quiet for a little while, each lost in their own memories of the woman who meant so much to them. Nina, full of wonder at her adventurous, free-spirited mother, who’d been there all along underneath the polished woman Nina had known.

She thought, then, of the trip they had taken as a family to Stanage Edge when she was a child, the one where her favourite photo of herself and her mum was taken. She had scrambled to the top, fearless, Clare running after and laughing, cheering her on. And they had laughed with sheer joy as they’d reached the top, her mum makeup free and tangle-haired; carefree. Brave and cheerful and full of life.

Memories came drifting back. Of her mum, dressed in jogging bottoms and an old sweatshirt, pushing her on the swings in the local park, higher and higher, until the little Nina had squealed with excitement, chubby legs flying out in front of her as she swept up towards the sky. Of her dashing out in the evening, off to one of her classes, and in the kitchen of the family home, flour in her hair and smeared over her cheeks, doubled over with laughter as she pulled a burned, sunken attempt at a cake out of the oven, the air tinged with the acrid taint of smoke. Theo had appeared, his shoulders shaking as he laughed, taking Clare in his arms and commenting that perhaps the cooking should be left to him. It wasn’t her forte.

Nina must have been very young for this one; her memory of it played out from low down, over the lip of the kitchen table, as she stood knee-high to her mum, gazing up at her parents as they towered above her.

She hadn’t thought of The Cake Incident for so long.

‘Remember the cake?’ she asked.

Theo snorted, laughing properly now, cupping his belly as it jiggled. ‘She wasn’t a natural chef.’

Nina grinned. ‘Good job you are.’

There was something freeing in adjusting her idea of who her mum had been. It wasn’t that her memories were wrong; it was just that there was more to her than Nina had held on to. She had been glamorous, enjoying dressing up when she and Theo had gone out, balancing on heels and enhancing her curvy figure with wrap dresses. But she’d been so much more: adventurous and fun and light-hearted and brave.

Nina felt something that she’d carried inside her for so long, something knotted, untangle at last. She had striven so hard to be like her image of her mum, but that had only been part of the truth. They shared so much more, an adventurous and playful side, and somehow that meant Nina was ready to embrace all of herself, to let those parts free. She didn’t need to suppress the parts of herself that wanted to climb the mountain face or dive deep in the ocean to see the turtles in their own world.

‘Thank you for talking to me about her, Baba,’ she said softly.

He sighed, his eyes welling up. ‘I should have done it so long ago. I should have done it always, I’m sorry, my Antheia. It was just – it was just hard.’

‘I know. Don’t worry, I understand.’

He smiled up at her. ‘You’re so like her. She would be very proud.’

‘Baba,’ she said as she heard the soft footsteps of the doctor approaching behind her. ‘I need to talk to you about the house.’

Chapter Twenty

Theo was given the all-clear, his heart checked and blood pressure taken. The verdict – fit as a beetle, he declared, and this time Nina didn’t have the heart to correct him. He was still pale, shaken by the panic attack and the fear that it had been something worse. She guided him out to where George still sat on the plastic chair in the corridor, scrolling on his phone as he waited.