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‘Who else have you caught up with?’ the postmaster asked.
Galen had the memory of an elephant—except when it came to irrelevant names.
‘Yolanda, of course...’ Galen said. ‘And Mia...’ He had never really liked Mia, but today he waskoumbara, Galen reminded himself. ‘The wedding lunch was excellent...’ Galen smiled politely, even though he felt the gnaw of indigestion.
‘Poor Roula...’ One of the women followed his gaze. ‘We were just saying how hard today must be for her...’ She sighed dramatically. ‘Shewas promised to Costa...’
Galen almost laughed in her face—and not pleasantly. Roula would have barely been at school when that ridiculous promise had been made. But the money-hungry Kyrios family had changed their mind when Yolanda had fallen ill and her husband had left her. Bastards.
Still, it was not Galen who disputed the observation.
‘No...’ the old postmaster corrected. ‘I told you—Roula misses Dimitrios.’ He must have seen Galen’s frown. ‘You didn’t know?’
It was then that he found out that Roula had been widowed.
‘So sad...they were so happy. You know...’ the postmaster leant in a little closer to Galen ‘...five years on and she still sleeps on the couch.’ He tapped his nose. ‘I deliver parcels. She tries not to let me see in...’
‘Excuse me, please.’ Galen pushed out his plastic smile. God, but he loathed this place and the gossipmongers—like hyenas with a carcass. And he fed himself into another group, but the conversation was much the same.
The bride was too thin...a little too clingy.
Oh, she’d doneverywell for herself.
And Roula was one of the topics too.
Her career was all she had.
Such a shame they’d never had babies.
Galen hated this place.
There were, though, some friendly faces.
‘God!’ Leo gave a dramatic sigh when they caught up with each other. ‘Kill me now.’
‘Good to be back?’ Galen grinned.
‘I absolutely adore coming to the retreat,’ Leo admitted, ‘but there you’re rather shielded from the locals and my ghastly family. How are you faring, Galen?’
‘It’s a good wedding,’ Galen said, because he just didn’t bitch—even with friends. And, of course, some people were lovely. But it was the maliciousness behind certain smiles that rankled. The opinions so readily voiced.
He glanced over towards Roula and found that he was frowning.
He watched her look up to the sky and saw her shoulders lift, and he remembered that day—gosh, years ago...decades, perhaps—when she’d stood at her peg and wept. He saw her hands clench and he was certain now that she was about to break down...
Not here, Roula, he silently urged.
There were already enough poisoned arrows flying around. He could just imagine how the locals would feast on it if she cried. And even before that thought had been processed Galen left his friend and walked towards her.
‘You said you could get me a connection.’
‘Sorry?’
Roula was startled. Her eyes were brimming, and Galen knew he had been right. She was on the very edge of tears and needed to get the hell away from here.
Now.
‘I need to get online,’ he snapped. ‘So either you get me to an internet connection now, or you find someone who can...’
