Page 23 of Villa of Secrets

Before we were all inside, the Germans changed their minds and ordered us home again, instructing everyone to return tomorrow morning with food and clothes for ten days. If we don’t, the men will be shot. What if they notice Evangelisa and Irini are missing? I am afraid.

*

Dear diary, I am writing this by candlelight. It’s the middle of the night and our house is full of my relations, but everyone is asleep now. All our Paradissi aunts and cousins are staying with us in the city. Our house at the back of the shop is crammed, but it takes the pressure off me a little as Mama is occupied by my relations. For once I am glad they leave me out of the conversation.

My aunty and two cousins went to sleep in my small bed. I slept at the bottom of my parent’s bed with Mama and my grandmother at the top end. My grandmother’s feet smell. Everyone else slept in the boys’ room. Grandmother’s snoring woke me in the night and I worried about my father and brothers, and Irini and Evangelisa. If somebody didn’t follow orders, would the Nazis really shoot the men? Would they realise my sister and my friend were missing? Could they force me to tell them where they are?

I wondered if they’d heard the news on Mount Filerimos? If we were moving to another island, they should come with us. I have decided to write all this information in my diary and then hide it under Evangelisa’s dresses, so that if we have to leave Rhodes, she will find it if she should return home before us. I really don’t want her to read about the shepherd boy kissing me, but I don’t have time to change anything. I will pack my new school exercise books in my duffel bag and start a fresh journal tomorrow. Also, I’ve written Evangelisa a letter, just in case things don’t go to plan.

Thursday, 20 July 1944

Dear, Evangelisa,

I’m sorry I left you on Mount Filerimos with Irini, but I didn’t know, when I returned home to fetch some shoes for you, what was taking place. You will have read the diary, and know the awful things that have happened to everyone, so far. I might be sent to Kos with Mama, Papa, and the boys, and if so, I know you will be fine with Irini. Stay hidden from the Germans, be brave, and do whatever Irini tells you.

I am sure we will be reunited soon, but until that day, remember we are thinking about you, and missing you. And Irini also. We all love you very much, and we are sorry to leave you behind, but Mama says you are much safer hidden away on Mount Filerimos with Irini, than under German eyes, on Kos.

Lots of love from your sister, Dora and all you family, XXXXX

Chapter 11

Bromley, London.

Rebecca held the phone to her ear. This was it, the news she’s been waiting for.

‘Hi there. I’m calling with your results, Rebecca.’ Quentin Alsop said.

‘Yes, go on.’

‘First, I should tell you that the chromosomal abnormalities that affect at least half of the human embryos created for in vitro fertilisation . . .’

What? What was that? Abnormalities!

‘. . . can now be predicted within the second day of development, long before we need to transfer the embryos to your womb.’

‘Sorry, I’m not grasping what you’re saying.’ Rebecca couldn’t disguise the alarm in her voice. She wasn’t able to make sense of the specialist’s words. ‘Will you run that by me again? Is something wrong?’

‘No, no, Rebecca. Just the opposite. The bottom line is that we have four eggs positively fertilised into embryos. Everything looks good. We’ll select the strongest two for transfer on Wednesday. I’ve booked you in for 3 p.m.’ There was a lengthy pause. ‘Is that all right, Rebecca?’

*

Fritz was in Earl’s Court for a three-day exhibition. Rebecca didn’t understand exactly what it was about, having hardly seen him all week. His advertising agency – amalgamating with one of the largest companies in America – kept him at the office far too long.

She recalled a time, after their wedding, when life was full of laughter, dinner parties, and plans. At weekends, they’d take a champagne hamper to a car rally, buff paintwork and polish chrome alongside their fellow enthusiasts. Fritz, manly and proud; she, pretty in flouncy Monsoon dresses and wide-brimmed hats.

‘Let’s make the most of our time alone, before the babies arrive,’ he would say, holding the door of his latest vintage auto open, and bowing slightly. She would primp and flirt and play the part.

Now, when he was home, he paced, hypothesised, phoned, analysed. Over breakfast, he spouted figures and expansion plans. She tried to rustle up interest, but in truth she hardly cared. All she thought about was the small, round Petri dish that contained her eggs and his sperm – their babies – in the clinic, fifteen miles away. It wasn’t what they’d envisioned all those years ago, but the IVF clinic served as a means to an end. They would have their perfect family.

The morning after Fritz returned from Earl’s Court, she asked if he could take a few hours away from the office. He swung around and looked her in the eye, and in a heartbeat of confusion she turned and fiddled with a flower arrangement on the table.

‘No way, darling. This week’s manic. Why? Was there something important?’ he said.

She recognised a glimmer of panic so slight no one else would notice. Fritz could hide his emotions behind a boardroom exterior. Nevertheless, he was astute. He’d guessed she wanted him to attend the clinic with her. Surely he had an obligation to hold her hand while the fertilised eggs were returned to her womb.

She shook her head. ‘No, nothing I can’t deal with,’ she said lightly. She wrapped her arms around him wanting to bind him to her. ‘I love you,’ she whispered.

His shoulders relaxed, confirming her suspicion. ‘I’ve a presentation this afternoon. Their director’s organised dinner to celebrate our new partnership. Sorry, darling. I doubt I’ll be home before ten.’