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The last thing she’d asked was for him to give her Jason’s contact details and, to her surprise, he had done this without hesitation. He’d explained that the vineyard was extremely remote and that her brother was taking a break from all electronic forms of communication, but that she could write to him there.
And Lexi had. She’d written several times. Long letters, which she’d tried to make cheerful—which hadn’t been easy, except for the bits when she told him how proud she was that he was turning his life around. That bit had burst straight from her heart.
The only things she received in return were a couple of postcards—battered old things which looked as if they had been taken when photography was still in its infancy. The messages they contained had been succinct but encouraging.
It’s GREAT!
And,
Best time of my LIFE!
Lexi found that she was longing to see him again and she told him so in her next letter, hoping that her motives weren’t selfish. That she wasn’t just wanting contact with him because her heart felt so empty.
One gloomy November evening, she had just poured herself a cup of tea when she heard the sound of footsteps on gravel, only this time she was paying attention and they were very definitely not the distinctive tread of her estranged husband.
She pulled open the door and for a moment she didn’t recognise the man who stood on the doorstep, a rucksack on his back, wearing a jacket which was way too thin for the inclement weather. His hair was bleached blonde, his skin deeply tanned—and he was fit and muscular. He looked like someone she used to know, but only vague physical traces of that person still existed.
‘Jason?’ Lexi blinked. ‘Jason, is that really you?’
‘Better get yourself a new pair of glasses, sis. Of course it’s me!’ Laughing, he dropped his rucksack and gathered her in a fierce hug.
‘You’d better come in.’
‘Just you try stopping me.’ And then he frowned. ‘Lexi, you’re looking awfully thin.’
‘Rubbish.’ She shut the door and smiled at him. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘Not since lunchtime.’
Over mushroom risotto he told her everything that had happened. How much he loved working outside, on the land. ‘But it’s more than that, Lexi,’ he said, tearing off a huge hunk of garlic bread. ‘Wine-making is so complex—and Greek wine has the potential to really do something spectacular in the marketplace—the way Australian wine did decades ago. And Xenon is pleased with what I’ve been doing. In fact, he’s offered to give me a permanent role in the family vineyards if I want it. And I do.’
Ah yes, Xenon. The one name she hadn’t mentioned. The massive elephant in the room as far as Lexi was concerned, although Jason clearly had no such reservations. He said his brother-in-law’s name with a mixture of loyalty, affection and the faintest trace of hero worship.
‘It was very decent of him to help you,’ she ventured.
‘Yes, it was.’ Jason’s silvery-green eyes—so like her own, only without the myopic tendencies—started shining with enthusiasm. ‘Without being too melodramatic about it, I owe him my life. If he hadn’t come and found me and plucked me out of the gutter, I don’t know where I’d be today.’
There was complete silence. With a hand which wasn’t quite steady, Lexi put her fork down on her plate. ‘What are you talking about? You went to him, didn’t you? You asked him for money because you were in terrible debt.’
‘Is that what he told you?’ Jason grinned and swopped his empty plate with her still almost full one. ‘The debt bit was right—but I didn’t ask Xenon for help. I think I was past the stage of knowing I needed it, when he suddenly appeared out of nowhere and told me he was going to give me one last chance to turn my life around. But that if I blew it, there wouldn’t be another.’
He finished off Lexi’s risotto. Then started talking about integrating into Greek village life and a young woman he’d met who now made such integration seem vital, but Lexi barely took in a word he was saying.
She didn’t understand.
Xenon had come to her and made it sound as if Jason was demanding financial help—and that he would withhold that help without her co-operation. But now Jason was telling her that Xenon had been the instigator. That he had gone to her brother and offered him a solution to his problem.
Why had he done that?
There was only one reason she could think of. The same reason he’d given her for wanting to stay married to her—childless or not. Because he loved her. Because he’d never stopped loving her.
