Victoria Connelly - Wish You Were Here

‘How about the old filing room?’ Alice suggested.

‘What?’ Larry snapped.

‘The old filing room at the end of the corridor. It’s only got one old filing cabinet in it and we don’t really use it anymore. It’s quiet in there too and has lots of natural light.’

Larry deigned to look at Alice for a moment but didn’t really appear to see her. ‘I’ll have to think about it,’ he said at last, scratching his bald head.

Alice shook her head. Ben Alexander had three interviewees arriving in less than an hour and they had nowhere to put them. The least Larry could do was listen to her perfectly decent suggestion or they’d end up interviewing the candidates in the canteen which would probably flout the all-important health and safety regulations.

Alice was just racking her brains for an alternative suggestion when Ben Alexander walked into the room.

‘Hello, Larry. Hello, Anna,’ he said, his all-encompassing gaze sweeping Alice oh-so-briefly. ‘All set for the interviews?’

Larry cleared his throat. ‘I suggest we use the old filing room at the end of the corridor,’ he told Ben. ‘It’s quiet and has lots of natural light.’

‘ Excellent idea!’ Ben said, clapping his hands together.

‘Yes, I thought so,’ Larry said.

‘Your boss is a miracle worker, isn’t he, Anna?’ Ben said.

Alice turned round and rolled her eyes, returning to her desk where she found Larry’s empty coffee cup waiting for somebody to wash it. She sighed, thinking to herself that her situation might be more bearable if she had somebody in the office she could talk to but the only other woman who worked in her department was part time. Her name was Pearl Jaggers and she was about a hundred and twenty years old and was only interested in small talk if it was about her eleven grandchildren.

She wasn’t sure how she managed to get through the next few weeks leading up to the holiday. She endured countless cold mornings at the bus stop, her neck retreating like a shy tortoise’s into the woolly folds of her scarf. Bruce was his usual uncommunicative self and didn’t even attempt to help when a speeding car splashed an icy puddle up her legs.

Wilfred the postman was as grouchy as ever, complaining about the conditions postmen had to endure during the cold months and then promptly sneezing on her and, at work, Larry continued to ignore her and Ben continued to call her Anna. Life was perfectly normal if far from perfect.

But, finally, the great day arrived. Alice had spent the final five evenings before the holiday packing. And unpacking. She just didn’t know what to take. She’d looked up the temperatures in Kethos online and was assured that mid-April was mild but not hot. That meant you had to take absolutely everything: jeans and jumpers in case it was cool and dresses and swimsuits in case it was warm. Not that Alice had much in the way of clothes; she wasn’t the sort of woman who had an excess of anything – unlike her sister who had once bought a favourite dress in three different colours. Alice thought of her sister’s heaving wardrobe and the number of clothes which had been flung over their father’s old bed. She couldn’t help thinking that something was wrong when a person had more shoes than books in their home.

Which reminded her, which books was she going to take? She’d treated herself to a guidebook and a lovely paperback romance called Swimming with Dolphins as well as a funny little hardback she’d found in her favourite second-hand bookshop in Norwich. The book was called Know Your Gods and, as Alice didn’t, she’d bought it.

Their flight to Greece left shortly after seven and Stella refused to drive to the airport so early in the morning and didn’t want to pay the parking charges for the week either.

‘You can pay for a taxi. You are getting a free holiday, after all,’ she told Alice who swallowed hard, held her tongue and made a huge cash withdrawal from a hole in the wall.

Travelling with her sister was a trying experience. She had been the archetypal are-we-nearly-there-yet kid and she hadn’t grown out of that with the passing of the years.

‘I don’t understand why we have to be at the airport so early,’ she complained. Then came, ‘There really isn’t enough leg room for somebody like me. It’s all right for you with your short legs.’ Then, ‘I can’t believe we don’t get a meal on this plane. Not that it would be edible or anything but it’s the principle, isn’t it?’

The world would never please Stella no matter how hard it tried, Alice thought, gazing out of the window and smiling at the intense blue waters far below them as they neared their destination.

The island of Kethos lay in the Mediterranean Sea just off the mainland of Greece. From the air, it looked rather like a squashed heart and Alice wondered if this had anything to do with the Aphrodite legend that was linked to the island.

She picked up her guidebook. ‘Do you want to read this?’ she asked Stella.

‘No, I’m reading this,’ her sister answered, holding up a copy of a glossy gossip magazine. Alice was just about to try and find out more about the famous Greek goddess when the announcement came that they were about to land.

‘About time too!’ Stella said, shoving her magazine into her handbag and reaching for her compact to make sure her face was still immaculate. Alice didn’t bother reaching for hers.

For a moment, she was aware that her sister’s eyes were upon her. ‘You could’ve made an effort,’ Stella told her. ‘Were you in a rush this morning?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Well, just look at you!’

‘We’re travelling, Stella, not attending a party,’ Alice said, noticing her sister’s lacy dress with the plunging neckline.

‘Yes, and you never know who you’re going to meet,’ Stella said, pointedly looking around the aeroplane. ‘Take him over there – he’s quite nice looking. In fact, I might introduce myself.’

‘Stella, you’ve just broken up with Joe.’

‘Oh, that was ages ago!’ she said. ‘And what’s wrong with a bit of flirting, anyway? I’m totally up for a holiday romance and you should be too. Once you get a bit of sun on your face and do something with your hair, that is.’

Alice took a deep breath and counted to ten. She might be getting a free holiday but she knew that it was going to cost her dearly.

Milo Galani had lived on the island of Kethos for all of his twenty-six years. His brothers – all three of them – had left for the mainland years ago but there was no life there for Milo. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere that wasn’t completely surrounded by the sea and the idea of a city gave him nightmares. He’d once stayed with his eldest brother in his tiny flat in Athens for a whole week and it had nearly killed him. He’d been kept awake all night by the sounds of the city: the police sirens, the drunken party-goers and the incessant mopeds.

When he’d returned to Kethos, he’d vowed he would never leave again. The bruising, bustling city might suit his three brothers but it didn’t suit him. He would rather walk through an olive grove than a crowd and he preferred a rocky mountain track to a shop-lined pavement. The island was like an extension of himself and he knew every field and every cove and he loved them all, especially once the spring arrived, like now.

There were some islanders who objected to the arrival of spring because, just as the island was reawakening after its winter hibernation and the first of the year’s flowers were emerging, the first tourists would arrive and the island would be wrenched from the residents and hauled back into life. There were some residents who lived up in the hills who had nothing to do with the tourists at all. They led solitary lives and were happy to do so. They believed that the island belonged to them and them alone and that the outside world had no business intruding upon it.