Page 100 of Villa of Secrets

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Naomi had found the diary and caught up to Rebecca’s bookmark again while she had her morning coffee. Poor, poor Dora. With such a lot to do, Naomi reluctantly closed the journal and traipsed upstairs to make Rebecca’s bed. She folded back the sheet, smoothed the pillow and stared at it, imagining her grandmother’s emotions when she uncovered the face of her most beloved friend, Irini in her earthy grave.

‘Phone!’ Bubba called.

‘I’ve got it,’ Naomi replied, rushing downstairs.

‘Hi, Mama!’ Angelos, her eldest son calling from Cyprus. Instantly alarming.

‘Angelos! Is everything all right?’

‘Yes, don’t worry. Just to let you know we’ll be home tomorrow.’

‘Lovely . . . but . . . why? What about your jobs? Are you sure everything’s okay?’ Both sons worked for a dive centre in Cyprus during the university’s summer break.

‘We’re fine, Mama. The water sports shut down for a fortnight. There was an explosion but we’re fine. We’ll see you soon, bye.’

‘What? Wait! An explosion? What happened?’

‘The dive centre’s short-staffed, Mama. Konstantinos was filling dive tanks when he was called away to give a windsurfing lesson. I was out with the boss and a paraglider. Nobody turned the compressor off so eventually the cylinder exploded.’ He paused to laugh. ‘Took all the legs of the wetsuits. Blew one of the walls out too.’

Naomi thought of Konstantinos’s legs and clutched her stomach. What if he’d returned to the hut at that moment? ‘Was anyone hurt?’

‘Nah! Don’t worry. See you later.’

‘Bye. Love you,’ she said, but he’d already hung up. An explosion! She stood, scratching her head and staring around the kitchen. Where would her boys sleep? Rebecca occupied their room. She glanced around the four-by-four-metre kitchen. If she slept in the kitchen, the boys in her room, Rebecca in the boys’ room, and Bubba in the lounge, they could manage. At least until Costa came home for the court case.

Everything seemed a problem lately. Perhaps she should have listened to the builder and had the new bathroom built at the back, instead of taking up the third bedroom. But Naomi hadn’t wanted to lose space in her yard where an ancient grapevine and her pots of tomatoes flourished. Anyway, too late now.

Naomi had not laundered her own sheets for a month. She hardly had time to straighten the bed, never mind change the bedding. At night she fell in, exhausted, and before dawn she tumbled out with a mental list of urgent tasks. She suddenly rushed upstairs and dragged the white bedding off. She should vacuum. Her heart thudded – palpitations – she flopped into the mattress clutching the bunched-up sheets to her chest.

The musky scent of Costa rose from the bedding. She buried her face in the linen and inhaled. How she missed him. The sweetness of making love in the dark returned to her. The comfort of Costa’s arms and sweet dreams without a care. Naomi smiled and her heartbeat slowed. In less than a fortnight he’d be home for the court case. In the bathroom, she shoved the laundry onto a quick-wash cycle.

In the kitchen, Naomi stared at the back wall. A two-metre-long stone banquette, used in the old days as a bed or seat, was covered in clutter. Bubba’s old sewing machine, Angelo’s mandolin and music books, a stack of cushions, and an ancient contraption for spinning wool. At the other end stood Costa’s metal toolbox, Konstantinos’s plastic fishing box and a couple of collapsed beach casters.

Naomi glanced at the cheap clock hanging over the banquette. Time to prepare some food. She’d placed a kilo of beef to marinate in red wine the day before, and now she set about peeling tiny onions. Once the ingredients for Kapamás were in the casserole, she had to get Bubba to bed for her mid-morning nap. The old lady laughed at something on TV and Naomi regretted not having spent more time with her grandmother.

Rebecca waltzed in. ‘Gosh, I’d forgotten how lovely the beach is,’ she said breezily. ‘If I were you I’d be there every day, Naomi. It’s not good for you to be cooped up in here. I’m absolutely famished, must be the fresh air . . . and the twins.’ She grinned, squeezed Naomi around the waist, and Naomi felt happy for her. ‘What’s for lunch?’ Rebecca asked innocently.

Naomi blinked and returned to the drudgery. ‘I have no idea. I’ve still got the washing to hang out, the beds to make, the plants to water and Bubba to see to. Aromatic beef in red wine and garlic potatoes with juniper berries for dinner okay?’ she quipped sarcastically.

‘Delicious! But, you really do have to get organised, Sis. Let me look after the lunch. Where’s the nearest takeaway?’

‘Top of the street turn left, four doors down.’

‘Back in a moment.’ Rebecca rushed out.

Ten minutes later she returned. ‘Right, Papas Yiannis and Heleny are coming to eat with us. What’s the phone number of the takeaway? I’ll order some food.’

‘I have no idea. You’ll have to walk round there.’ Naomi tried to keep the sarcasm from her voice. ‘ ’Scuse me while I empty the washing machine, peg out, make the beds and peel the potatoes. I hope I’ve got enough plates and cutlery for everyone. I don’t suppose you could water the tomatoes?’

Busy thumbing her iPhone, Rebecca wasn’t listening. ‘Ah, here it is! I’ll place an order. Is there anything you fancy?’

Naomi shook her head.

‘Right. Pork giros, Greek salad, tzatziki, garlic bread, baklava and ice cream, okay?’

Naomi nodded. ‘Just getting the washing,’ she said going up to the bathroom. ‘Back in a moment.’