Carol Marinelli - One Summer Night

‘We would go to the market …’ Again, he was stunned that he told her, yet it felt good to speak, to share with another. ‘We were about twelve.’ He told her of the thieving and she laughed, but not too much, for after all he had been hungry. And he told her too of the taverna that would fill with tourists at night, how he had always looked older … He did not tell her about the women, or scrabbling through the bins out the back for something to eat. He told her the better bits and smiled at the better bits, and then Zander surprised himself again.

‘I will show you Xanos,’ he offered. ‘The real Xanos.’

She thought, because it was Zander, that she would be swallowed again by a huge limo, that the island of Xanos would be revealed to her through thick darkened glass, but instead he rang ahead and by the time they had made their way back, to her surprise and nervous delight two scooters had been delivered to the foyer of the hotel.

‘I’ve never ridden a scooter …’

‘I thought you liked exploring.’

‘On foot,’ Charlotte said, and then laughed. ‘Or on camel.’

He smiled at the thought. ‘Few tourists have ridden a scooter when they come here. You’ll soon pick it up.’

She wanted him to change his mind, to offer to let her climb on his scooter, to coast the island nestled into his back, but never did he offer easy; instead, he pushed her out of her comfort zone. She was grateful for it, for after a few nervous goes she enjoyed the thrill of riding her little scooter, the absence of a helmet not the only rule that was broken. With Zander she felt as if she were flying the trapeze without a safety net. It was wild and dangerous, the thrill of the chase, cat and mouse, as he accelerated ahead of her and waited for her to catch up, then sped off, laughing again.

The only blot on her happiness was a phone that still had not rung, and as they parked their bikes in the marketplace and they walked into a taverna, she caught him looking as she checked her phone.

‘It’s up to you whether or not you tell him, Charlotte,’ Zander said as they took a seat. ‘I don’t want to put pressure on you. I just had hoped to surprise him. I have long thought of the day that we see each other again.’

‘He’s my boss,’ she attempted, and thankfully he did seem to understand.

‘I have put you in an impossible situation,’ Zander said. ‘Really, I should have just stayed in my suite. I should be there now …’ He looked into her eyes and the world seemed to stop. ‘But then we would have missed out on our day, so I cannot regret it.’

Neither could she.

It seemed like for ever since she had been so self-indulgent, not just with the food or the views, but with the company and conversation, and though she did her utmost to remain distant, warned herself it was a distinct lack of male company in recent years that made Zander impress her so—that a couple of years ago, she could so easily have handled him—she knew that she was lying to herself. For in whatever life she might be living, in whatever circumstances they might meet, Zander would have consumed her on sight.

‘Soon you will be back in London,’ Zander said, ‘and I will be back in Australia.’ His words were a brutal reminder that all they had was measured in days, a warning—or was it permission he was giving her?—to just enjoy this, to be the glamorous party girl that he perceived she was. ‘To our day,’ he said, and raised his glass. How delicious the sparkling water tasted as it slid down her throat, how heady and exhilarating it was to be with him, but she felt her face redden when her phone rang. There was sweat beading on her lip, which probably wasn’t the most attractive of looks, but she was not thinking of that as she picked up her phone and saw that finally Nico was returning her call.

‘Excuse me a moment.’ Charlotte stood. ‘I might take this outside.’

He wanted to know what was discussed, he needed to know, so Zander had a word with the waiter and handed him a very nice tip, warning him to be discreet. The waiter then headed out to clear the tables.

Charlotte took a seat at a small table, and took a deep breath as she answered, nervous to tell Nico but knowing she had to, no matter what Zander might think, no matter the surprise she spoiled, Nico was her boss and somehow, despite the dizzying effect of Zander close by, she must keep her head and remember that fact.

‘Charlotte, it’s Constantine.’ The sound of Nico’s wife caught her by surprise. ‘Nico knows you’ve been trying to get hold of him—he asked me to ring you back.’

‘I really need to speak with him.’

‘His father’s been taken ill,’ Constantine explained, and then clarified. ‘His adoptive father. You know things have been tense …’ Charlotte was quiet as Constantine took a steadying breath. Tense was the understatement of the year, for since Nico had guessed that he had been adopted, the already fragile relationship with his father had been tested beyond its limits. His adoptive parents had not even attended the wedding, and Charlotte closed her eyes in sympathy as Constantine made things fright-eningly clear. ‘He’s on the small hospital in Lathira, but Nico is having him flown now to the mainland as things are very serious. Nico will be at the meeting tomorrow, but for now he asks that you hold the fort. He wants you to arrange a seven a.m. flight from Athens—he really wants to attend the meeting—but then he will fly directly back.’

‘The thing is …’ Charlotte attempted, but she halted. She could hear the chimes of the hospital, their baby, Leo, was crying too, and now was not the time. How could she reveal something so personal, and not even to Nico himself? Perhaps Zander was right. The surprise would be more meaningful coming from his brother and surely Nico did not need any extra stress right now. ‘Tell Nico everything is fine. Tell him that there is good news waiting for him when he gets to Xanos and give him my best wishes.’

‘I will. I have to go now, Charlotte.’

She rang off the phone and sat silent for a moment, declined when a nice waiter offered to bring her drink outside. ‘It’s okay—I’ll be back in a moment.’

So she was on her own with the secret.

She looked into the bar where Zander sat and, to his credit, he did not look over, was not trying to work out what she had said to his brother and to see if she had spoiled the surprise; instead, he chatted to the waiter as his glass was refilled and smiled as she walked back into the taverna.

‘Do you want to eat lunch here?’ She was incredibly grateful that he did not try to delve, did not ask what she had said to Nico, and she returned his smile, with one that came from the bottom of heart, for now she trusted him.

‘That would be lovely.’

She trusted this beautiful man to do the right thing by her boss, and by her.

Believed in tomorrow as she sat down and Zander took her hand.

After all, she had no reason to think otherwise.

He ordered hot peppered calamari and for Zander it was good to be back, to sit at a table with money in his wallet, to look the owner in the eye when he came in and laugh as he called out something in Greek.

‘What did he say?’ Charlotte asked, wishing her Greek was better.

‘“Alexandros, you were banned from here,”’ Zander translated, and then she was treated to that stunning smile. ‘Then he said, “Welcome back”.’

‘Alexandros?’

‘As I was then.’ He looked into eyes that were blue, eyes that held his, eyes that made him go on. ‘After my father.’

‘He’s …’ Charlotte swallowed, for this much Nico had told her. ‘He’s deceased?’

‘He is.’

‘And your mother?’