Alice Adams: Invincible Summer

It had definitely been the right decision to come, she thought, as they swept clear of the garish sprawl of Corfu Town and shot out along the coast, the plastic car seat hot beneath her legs and salty air buffeting her through the open window. When Benedict had suggested she join him for a week at his family’s place in Corfu she’d wavered, but it was her only chance of a holiday in an otherwise tedious summer that would be spent living at home and working in a shop before she took up her traineeship in September. A whole holiday for the cost of a cheap flight was too tempting, even if it did mean the slightly intimidating prospect of staying with Benedict’s family.

‘Wouldn’t it be a bit strange, though?’ she’d asked as they walked back from Brandon Hill at the end of their final afternoon in Bristol. ‘Your parents will probably think we’re girlfriend and boyfriend or something.’

‘Of course not,’ Benedict assured her. ‘The whole family takes guests there. More than likely my brother Harry will have a pal with him too.’ Then, sounding just a little offended, he added, ‘It’s a genuine offer from a friend. I’m not going to jump on you if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, who knows when we’ll have another chance to really hang out together? You’ll be off doing your thing and I’ll be back in Bristol on my own. Think of it as a last hurrah.’

So she’d accepted, and now they were charging north along the twisting coastal road bounded on one side by the cliff wall and on the other by a sheer drop down to the glittering Ionian Sea below. The journey was spellbinding and hair-raising in equal parts; every time a car zoomed towards them they were forced perilously close to the road’s edge, leaving Eva clutching the sides of her seat.

‘You see?’ bellowed Benedict above the roaring air. ‘You wouldn’t want to be in a Hummer on these roads.’

‘Christ!’ she yelped as they rounded a hairpin bend and swerved to avoid an oncoming coach. ‘Are those things really allowed on roads like this? Couldn’t they erect some bloody crash barriers or something?’

‘It’s all part of the distinctive Corfiot charm. You get used to the roads and, anyway, it’s part and parcel of being in such an undeveloped place. No crash barriers but no McDonald’s either, at least not where we’re going. Don’t worry, staying on the road’s a simple matter of friction and momentum.’ He grinned, seeing Eva grab the dashboard to avoid being thrown against the door as they rounded another sharp bend. ‘Trust me, I’m a physicist.’

‘Yeah, well, there’s theory and then there’s practice,’ muttered Eva, but her words were lost in the wind. She did her best to sit back and enjoy the journey, soaking up the sparkling expanse of water and the unfamiliar abundance of light that drenched the air and bounced playfully off every available surface. The further they travelled, the fewer cars they passed, and the white-walled shops and houses gradually gave way to a more sparsely populated landscape in which gnarled olive trees grew at improbable angles on steeply ascending terraces. Eventually they turned off the coastal road and started to climb a hill of nerve-racking gradient.

‘Mount Pantokrator,’ said Benedict. ‘Nearly there.’

They pulled onto an unsurfaced road, bounced over a series of potholes and finally slowed to a halt in front of a pair of huge iron gates, which, prompted by the wave of a key fob, swung open to reveal a large sand-coloured villa. Around the side of the building Eva glimpsed the same captivating seascape that had provided the backdrop to most of their journey.

‘Better go and say hello to the olds and find out where you’re quartered,’ said Benedict, clambering out of the car and stretching. ‘I expect they’ll be on the terrace.’

He led the way through an open gate at the side of the house and along a dusty gravel path running through a herb garden. The late afternoon air was heavy with the scent of thyme and hummed with cicadas. They wound their way around the building and up a flight of stone steps onto an enormous terrace overlooking the sea, where a willowy, fair-haired woman was gazing out over the railing. As she turned and came towards them, arms outstretched in welcome, Eva realized she must be Benedict’s mother.

‘Hello, darling. That was quick,’ she said as they reached her. ‘And you must be Eva.’ She released her son from a brief embrace and turned towards her.

‘Very pleased to meet you, Mrs Waverley,’ replied Eva, adopting her best meeting-the-parents manner, and was surprised to notice Benedict shift uncomfortably. Was she imagining it or had Benedict’s mother almost imperceptibly raised an eyebrow at him? What possible blunder could she have perpetrated so soon and with such an innocuous greeting?

‘Oh, plain old Marina is fine. How wonderful of you to join us, we’ve heard so much about you. Bunny, why don’t you go and give Eva’s things to Eleni so she can sort out her room?’ she said, spotting the rucksack in Benedict’s hand. Eva struggled to convert her mirth at the pet name into something resembling a grateful smile, but if Marina noticed Benedict’s glowering face and Eva’s faint snort she showed no sign of it. ‘Eva, come, and I’ll make you a drink. Did you fly Sleazyjet? Frightfully convenient I know, but leaves you feeling quite soiled and in need of a tipple, don’t you find?’

*

Standing at the edge of the terrace, clutching the cold glass that Marina had pressed into her hand, Eva was finally able to take in the scenery that terror had prevented her from fully appreciating during the drive. The calm sea stretched across to another coastline, where a flat plain led from the water’s edge to a mountain range behind. Here and there, clusters of white buildings were scattered across the plain and the foothills. The azure sky was cloudless and yet just a little hazy.

‘This view,’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s breathtaking.’

Marina smiled. ‘Isn’t it? In all my travels I’ve never found one more perfect. That’s Albania over there across the water. In the mornings the mountains look as if they’re rising up out of the mist like an enchanted land. You almost expect to see unicorns bounding across them. I know everyone bangs on about the light in the Greek islands but, really, there’s nowhere on earth quite like it.’

She took Eva’s arm, led her to the wall at the edge of the terrace where the land dropped away and pointed down the hillside. ‘Down there, you see that peninsula with the house and the beautiful bay? The owners have taken out a hundred-year lease on that bit of the Albanian coast you can see there, just so that no one can build on it and spoil the view.’

A tall man immediately recognizable as Benedict’s father ambled out of the house and joined in the conversation. ‘Of course, they don’t have half the view that we have up here. It’s all very well being down by the water, I suppose, for the swimming and all that, but I’d rather be up here in the heavens.’ He dropped his voice dramatically and turned towards Eva, gesturing towards the vast expanse of sky. ‘Wouldn’t you?’

She nodded. It felt as if she were being drawn into a conspiracy, in fact this whole place felt like a marvellous secret that she had stumbled upon, a world she hadn’t quite known existed. She wasn’t at all sure what she had imagined whenever Benedict had mentioned spending summers at his family’s holiday place, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was utterly dreamlike, otherworldly, like being suspended in a thousand shades of blue.

‘We like to think that our grandchildren and great-grandchildren will be coming here long after we’re gone, don’t we, Hugo?’ said Benedict’s mother. ‘It’s wonderful to know that all this beauty will be preserved for them.’