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She intuited that he might not like coming home, for whatever reason, but he loved his family.
He put the child down and the other children disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived. He held out his hand for her and smiled wryly. ‘Some of my nieces and nephews. They’ll have heard the helicopter.’
Siena took his hand. She’d followed his lead, dressing down in smart jeans and a soft dusky pink silk top with a light grey cardigan. Flat shoes made her feel even smaller next to Andreas, fragile, and it wasn’t altogether welcome.
As they approached a very modest-looking stone house, with trailing flowers around the windows and door, there were shouts and laughter coming from inside and a baby’s wail. Siena unconsciously gripped Andreas’s hand, making him look at her.
‘Okay?’
She smiled and gulped. ‘Yes. Fine.’ But she wasn’t. Because she’d suddenly realised that if Andreas’s family were as idyllic as she feared they might be it would break her open.
But it was too late to turn back. A small, rotund grey-haired woman had come bustling out and was drawing Andreas down to kiss him loudly on the cheeks. When he straightened she had tears in her eyes and was saying, ‘My boy…my boy…’
Then Andreas drew Siena forward and introduced her in Greek, of which Siena could only understand a little. His mother looked her up and down and then took her by the arms in a surprisingly strong grip. She nodded once, as if Siena had passed some test, and drew her into her huge soft bosom, kissing her soundly.
Siena felt inexplicably shy and blushed profusely, not used to this amount of touching from a stranger. But Andreas’s mother had her hand in hers and was leading her into a lovely bright house, very simple.
There seemed to be a bewildering amount of people and Siena tried to remember all of Andreas’s sisters’ names: Arachne, who had the new baby, which slept peacefully in a corner; Martha, Eleni, Phebe and Ianthe. They were all dark and very pretty, with flashing eyes and big smiles.
Andreas brought Siena over to meet his father, whom she could see was quite bowed with arthritis, but it was easy to see where Andreas’s tall good looks had come from. The man was innately proud, his face marked with the strong lines of his forebears.
Lunch was a somewhat chaotic affair, with children running in and out and everyone talking over everyone else. But the love and affection was palpable. Andreas had one of his nephews curled up trustingly in his lap, and Siena’s womb clenched as she saw how at ease he was with the children.
And then Siena recalled his cruel words when she had asked him if he wanted children.
When Arachne, his youngest sister, approached Siena after lunch with the new baby Siena froze with panic. Being faced with this brought up all her deepest longings and fears. For how could she ever be a mother when she had no idea what it felt like to have a mother?
But Arachne wouldn’t take no for an answer and she handed the baby into Siena’s arms, showing her how to hold her.
Andreas had seen Siena’s look of horror when Arachne approached her with the baby and had got up, incensed at the thought that she was rejecting his family, but his mother stopped him.
‘Wait. Let her be,’ she said.
It was only then that Andreas watched and saw Siena’s look of horror replaced by one of intense awe and wonder. He realised it hadn’t been horror. It had been panic. He could remember his own panic when he’d held a baby for the first time. He realised that Siena had never held a baby before.
Before he could stop himself he was walking over to sit beside her.
She glanced at him and smiled tremulously. ‘She’s so perfect and tiny. I’m afraid I’ll hurt her.’
‘You won’t,’ Andreas said through the tightness in his throat. To see the baby at Siena’s breast, Siena’s hair falling down over her cheek, her little finger clutched in a tiny chubby hand… Andreas dreaded the inevitable rise of claustrophobia but it didn’t come. Something else came in its place—a welling of emotion that he couldn’t understand and which wasn’t the habitual grief for his dead best friend that he usually felt in this place. This felt new. Far more fragile. Tender. Dangerous.
When the baby mewled Siena tensed and whispered, ‘What did I do?’
Weakly, Andreas used it as an excuse to break up that disturbing image, gently taking his niece and putting her over his shoulder, patting her back like a professional. Siena’s worried face made emotion swell.
‘Nothing,’ he said gruffly. ‘She’s probably just hungry again.’
His sister came and took the baby out of Andreas’s hands. Andreas watched as Siena stared after Arachne and the baby with an almost wistful look on her face. That galvanised him into moving up onto his feet and he caught her by the hand. She looked at him.
‘We should leave if we’re to get back to Athens and make our flight slot this evening.’
Just then Andreas’s mother came up. She was saying something but she was speaking too fast for Siena to understand. When she was finished Siena asked, ‘What did she say?’
Andreas looked at Siena with an unreadable expression. ‘She asked if we’d stay for the night…’
Siena couldn’t help the silly fluttering of something, but then Andreas reminded her, ‘You have to be back for work in the morning.’
Siena’s stomach fell. Work. ‘Oh, yes…’
