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‘I don’t know what to say,’ Mia admitted.
‘I know,’ Roula agreed. ‘I’m sorry for the pain your family are going through, Mia, but I couldn’t tell you.’
‘Of course not,’ Mia said. ‘But it’s just back to square one, isn’t it? Grieving for him all over again.’
Roula closed her eyes, for it felt a little as if she were being told how to feel—told that she should arrive back on Anapliró looking suitably widowed and ravaged to appease the Drakos family. Or defensive of her brother to appease her own.
Really, she would like to crawl into bed. Preferably Galen’s. And just escape as he had allowed her to.
‘Dimitrios’s mother is bereft,’ Mia said. ‘I’m not sure what reception you’ll get.’ There was a long pause. ‘Roula, I want to say it’s fine, that we can be friends again, but I don’t see how we can be. To be honest, I can’t see me staying on at the retreat if you come back.’
Roula had learnt a lot from watching Galen, she realised, for instead of filling the gap she stayed silent.
‘Do you know what I wish?’ Mia said.
‘What?’
‘It sounds selfish, and I know you did the right thing, going to the police, but I wish you’d said nothing. I wish you’d just stayed quiet. It’s all too big and too sordid, and I don’t see how we can get past it.’
Roula felt a little ill.
‘I mean it,’ Mia insisted, even though Roula wasn’t arguing. ‘I wish you’d just kept your mouth shut.’
And therein lay the problem.
Not just with Nemo, but with all of it—it was the story of her life.
Stay quiet, Roula. Don’t spoil a pretty picture with the truth.
Roula found her voice then. ‘Mia, I’m sure you’re not alone with your thoughts. In fact, I think most people would quietly agree with you—some things are best left unsaid.’
Roula ended the call.
Perhaps it was time to take a leaf from theacceptablerule book that everyone wished she’d abided by? To examine this with a more selfish slant? Roula thought, as Mia’s words played over in her head.
She was better—so much better than she had once been. In fact, Roula knew she had moved on in leaps and bounds. Galen had introduced her to her body and shown her the beautiful side of sex. And career wise...well, it was exciting.
No more working on her past.
Healed.
Done.
Over.
On a day Roula knew she should be sorting out the drama of others, she was urgent in her need to deal with herself.
Urgent.
She pulled on a dress...any dress—she had an endless selection thanks to her mother’s hand-me-downs—and put on shoes that made her slender legs look heavy. Then she picked up her purse and half walked, half ran through the Athens streets to Kolonaki Square.
Only she was not headed for work. Instead it was Leo Arati’s studio she arrived at, and pressed and pressed on the bell, then realised she was too early.
‘Roula!’ Leo moved to embrace her. ‘I’ve been calling. You poor darling... Come up. I’ve slotted you in.’
‘No.’ She stopped him. ‘I don’t just want a gown fitting, Leo. I want a make-over.’
‘Fine,’ he said, ‘We’ll do both. Galen has put you on his account.’
