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He left her standing there and she just stared at the bed.
If they were a real couple, Costa and Mary would be tumbling on it.
She was jealous of them, the other Mary and Costa.
Jealous of him and his ease with himself.
She wished she could just strip off on a whim while carrying on a conversation with a virtual stranger.
Of course she should move her things to the guest room now and that would be that—for she was hardly going to come knocking at his door demanding sex!
She walked over to the bed and ran a light hand over the velvety fabric. And found she desperately wanted him.
She recalled his words:There are safer ways to chase adventure. For Mary, Costa was both safe and an adventure. So she did not unpack, nor move her cases. She just opened one, selected a little amber bikini and changed into it—though not with the same ease Costa had demonstrated.
She was burning from the roots of her hair to her freshly painted toes, still a little stunned at the sight of a naked Costa, as she stepped out into an evening that was darkening towards night, where only the pool was gently lit and Costa was swimming in it.
She sat on the edge and dipped first her toes and then her legs in. The water was tepid, and bliss on her skin after a long angst-filled day. From there she watched him, slicing through the water, turning at each end. Clearly he’d meant it when he’d said he was going for a swim.
He came up beside her a good while later and leant his arms on the edge, a little breathless and clearly in a better mood.
‘Aren’t you going to get in?’ he asked.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ll just sit.’
‘It’s deep and the water is perfect.’
‘I can’t swim,’ she admitted. ‘There—you’ve got something for your list. Mary can’t swim.’
‘Seriously?’ He looked a bit stunned by the fact. ‘Don’t they teach you at school in England?’
‘They do.’ She nodded. ‘But I got banned on my first lesson.’
‘For...?’ Costa asked.
Such a simple question. He could never know the hurt behind her answer, for it had happened the day her mother died.
‘I escaped from my class and went over to the diving pool.’ She could actually see herself, climbing the endless ladder, her little legs determined rather than shaking, knowing she had to hurry before she got caught. ‘I dived off the top board...’
‘Go, Mary!’ He laughed. ‘The top one?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded and looked to see that he was smiling up at her. ‘I didn’t think it through, of course, and I had to be rescued. Then my mother had to come and collect me...’
‘You had her then?’ Costa enquired gently.
‘I did,’ Mary said, ‘though not for much longer.’
It was as if the pool was a magic lantern now, flashing forgotten images into a sky full of stars.
‘My mother told me there’d be no treats for a week, but she didn’t really mean it, and my dad—’ She stopped.
‘Your dad?’
‘Mr Sensible...’ Mary attempted, using the teasing term that she and her granny had reserved for him. ‘“Mary needs to learn...”’ she quoted, but then she stopped again, for in this quiet space, under a darkening Anapliró sky, with Costa patiently waiting, she finally dared to look that time in the face.
Mary could see the worry in her father’s features that night, feel his hands taking hers as he suggested to her mother that they not go out. He’d known, despite her defiant, sullen stance, just how upset she was.
Not that she shared that small revelation with Costa.
