Wish You Were Here (5 page)

‘It looks like somewhere they’d drag you on a school trip!’ Stella said, handing the leaflet back to Alice.

Alice bit her tongue and returned the leaflet to her bag. There wasn’t going to be any laughter on this trip, and they weren’t going to become closer than ever either, were they?

‘Hey!’ Stella suddenly said, leaning forward on the sofa and staring at Alice. ‘What are you doing wearing my necklace?’

By the time Milo had tidied around the garden and put all the tools safely away, the sun was setting fast, leaving great violet streaks across the sky and turning the sea indigo. It was a time of day that he loved, especially in the spring when the air was balmy and one could get away with a short-sleeved shirt.

Leaving the Villa Argenti on his moped, he took a winding mountain road which first descended towards the sea and then climbed steeply. From the top, you could see across the water to a neighbouring island. Milo had been there a couple of times. It was about ten times the size of Kethos and had been heaving with tourists. It made his own dear island seem deserted. Certainly, there wasn’t the notorious rush hour that some places were famous for; Milo practically had the roads to himself when he left work although the occasional stray goat would often force him to slow down and swerve. He’d heard his brothers complaining about their commute in Athens and he didn’t envy them. He always looked forward to his ride to and from home, occasionally breaking into song as he rode, his voice filling the air – not always in tune, perhaps, but always happy. Life was good. He loved his island, he loved his job and he loved his home.

But he wasn’t going directly home that evening because there was something he had to pick up first. Turning his moped into a narrow road, he drove through a tiny village which ended in a small courtyard where half a dozen hens were pecking around in the dirt. There was a simple two-storey white house that was typical of Kethos. Its windows were wide open and a pair of orange curtains fluttered in the evening breeze and Milo could smell something wonderful cooking.

‘Hanna?’ he called as he took off his helmet and got off his bike. ‘Anyone at home?’ he called in Greek as he entered the kitchen but there was nobody about so he went back outside again and spotted a portly woman in her sixties with a huge wicker basket full of white sheets. Milo ran across the grass and took the basket from her. Her round face was red from the exertion.

‘Shouldn’t Tiana be helping you with this?’

Hanna waved a fat hand at him. ‘Oh, let the child be a child.’

‘Where is she?’

‘In the back room on that computer thing.’

Milo sighed. Slowly but surely their little island was being taken over by computers and hand-held gadgets. Even the most unlikely of people seemed to have them now and were connecting to the internet with alarming regularity.

‘She knows I don’t like her on that day and night. She’s a kid. She should be outside, running up mountains and scraping her knees on rocks.’

They entered the kitchen and Milo put the basket of washing down on the tiled floor. Two large black cats were asleep on an old leather chair by the cooker and, once again, Milo inhaled the aroma of a fine dinner.

‘You’ll stay for something to eat?’ Hanna asked.

‘Oh, that’s really kind of you but I’ve got to get back,’ Milo said, thinking of the chores he had to do around the house if he was to keep on top of things. His eldest brother, Georgio, had threatened to visit and Milo wanted to be above reproach if he did show up.

‘Suit yourself,’ Hanna said and then left the kitchen and hollered, ‘
Tiana!
’

A few seconds later, a ten-year-old girl darted from one of the rooms at the back of the house, her long dark hair flowing wildly behind her as she launched herself into Milo’s arms.

‘Tiana!’ he cried, wrapping his arms round her and kissing the top of her head. ‘You okay? Had a good day?’

‘She’s had her tea,’ Hanna said, ‘and you look as if you could do with some yourself. Look at the size of you!’

‘What?’ Milo said.

‘There’s nothing of you!’

‘I keep myself fit – that’s all.’

‘A working man needs a bit of meat on him,’ Hanna said. ‘Like my boys.’

Milo thought of Hanna’s four sons. They were all as tall as Greek temples and about the same width too. By contrast, Milo and his three brothers were positively slender although he’d never have thought of himself as skinny. He was just well-toned, that was all. His job and his lifestyle made sure that there wasn’t any surplus flesh on him.

‘Now, are you sure you won’t stay for a bit of dinner?’

As tempting as that offer was, he really had to get home. ‘Another time, Hanna,’ he said with a smile and she waved him from her kitchen.

‘I’ve been on the internet!’ Tiana said as they left the little house.

‘Yes, Hanna told me,’ Milo said. ‘I don’t like you spending all your time in front of a computer.’

‘But it’s
brilliant!
You never let me use ours,’ she said.

‘And for good reasons too.’

‘Like what?’

‘Your beautiful dark eyes will turn square and your brain will frazzle up and die.’

Tiana wrinkled her little nose. ‘Don’t be silly!’

‘I’m being absolutely serious. You should be outside and running around like I was at your age.’

‘Oh, you’re so
old
sometimes!’ Tiana said with a little laugh.

‘Maybe I am,’ Milo said, ‘but you should take advantage of that and learn from me.’ He shook his head. He was beginning to sound old even to himself now. ‘Come on – helmet on!’ Milo ordered as they walked towards the moped.

‘Do I have to?’ Tiana protested.

‘You most certainly do.’

‘But I want to feel the wind in my hair,’ she said.

‘If you want to feel the wind in your hair, it’ll be a very long walk home.’

She pouted but then placed the helmet firmly on her head and Milo helped her with the strap. Then they both hopped on and took off. Milo took the roads a little slower when Tiana was riding behind him. He loved to speed around the island when he was on his own, careening around the bends a little too fast sometimes and speeding down the hills towards the sea but he was the perfect rider when Tiana was with him and he never took any unnecessary chances.

Feeling the tightness of her little hands on his waist, he smiled.

‘You okay?’ he shouted and he felt her squeeze his belly in affirmative response. They rode through another village, scattering a group of children who were kicking a football around and then they ascended into the hills before coming to a stop at last.

Their house was like most of the others on the island: small, square and white but, over the years, they’d put their own stamp on it, painting the three tiny bedrooms, living room and kitchen in cheering yellows and vibrant reds apart from Tiana’s bedroom which – like the bedrooms of almost every other ten-year-old girl around the world – was a symphony of pink. Milo remembered the weekend they’d chosen the pots of pink paint together and had spent two whole days getting just as much paint on themselves as on the walls.

The furniture around the house was simple wooden hand-me-down pieces which weren’t worth a lot of money but were good and sturdy. His favourite piece was a rather fine rocking chair by the fire which had been rocked by at least four generations of Galanis. He adored that old chair.

But it was the garden which was Milo’s real forte. He’d planted it with flowers, fruit bushes and vegetables. One of the perks of his job at the Villa Argenti was that his pockets would often be stuffed with seeds taken from the garden he’d created there and he’d replicated some of the borders at the villa in miniature in his own back garden for Tiana. Even though he spent all day working in one garden, he couldn’t resist tinkering around in his own once he got home, only he really didn’t have time for that tonight. There were the morning dishes to wash, dinner to prepare, the ironing to do and heaven only knew that the little house hadn’t seen the sight of a vacuum cleaner for a good many days.

Walking into the kitchen together, he watched as Tiana reached into a cupboard for her favourite pink glass before filling it with pineapple juice from the fridge. She took it to the table and sipped it thoughtfully. It was a routine that Milo observed every day and never tired of. What a little miracle she was, he thought, and how wonderful that she had come into his life.

She looked up at him with her large dark eyes and smiled. ‘What is it?’ She was at the age where he could no longer just stare at her without her asking him what he was doing or thinking or plotting.

‘It’s nothing,’ he said.

She didn’t look convinced. ‘Tell me!’

He shrugged but then said, ‘You
are
happy here, aren’t you, Tiana?’

She sighed. ‘Of
course
I am,’ she said. ‘Why do you always ask me that?’

‘Because I worry.’

‘What about?’

‘Everything. I worry that you’re not happy living with me. I worry that you’re not happy living here. I mean, are you sure you wouldn’t want to live somewhere else?’

‘Like where?’

‘Like the mainland.’

She shook her head and took another sip of her pineapple juice. ‘Why would I want to live there?’

‘No reason.’

‘You said it was horrible there. You said it was dirty and smelly and noisy.’

‘It is.’

‘So why would I want to live there? You’re not going to send me there, are you? We’re not leaving here, are we?’ she asked, her eyes filled with anxiety.

‘No, we’re not leaving here.’

‘Well, then,’ she said with a little shrug before finishing her juice and leaving the table. ‘I’m going on the computer,’ she added as she left the room.

‘No, Tiana! You’ve spent quite enough time on there already for one day.’

‘But I need to. It’s for my homework!’

‘Well, I’m timing you. Make sure it’s just your homework you’re doing and remember I’ll be checking up on you.’

‘No, you won’t. You’ll go out in the garden and forget all about me!’

‘I will not, you cheeky miss!’ Milo shook his head. Honestly, his little sister could be so astute sometimes.

The room was cool and dark and Alice had no idea what the time was when she awoke, fumbling for her travel clock on the bedside cabinet. Eight o’clock.

‘Eight o’clock!’ she cried, leaping out of bed. She didn’t want to miss a single moment of her holiday and ran across the room to draw the curtains. Sunlight blasted into the bedroom and dazzled Alice’s eyes, the vibrant colours of Kethos dancing before her. The sky was a perfect blue and the sea was a gloriously glassy aquamarine.

Showering quickly and pulling on a pair of beige cotton trousers and a blouse that was still new enough to look white rather than grey, she ventured downstairs, walking into the kitchen and fixing herself a light breakfast of toast and honey. She’d had to make a return journey into Kethos Town the night before to buy provisions for the villa. She’d meant to get them after eating at the taverna but the leaflet for the Villa Argenti had excited her so much that she’d forgotten to go shopping.

Alice had been up a full hour by the time Stella shuffled downstairs. She was wearing a pink satin bathrobe and her blonde hair was newly washed and blow-dried. Alice had noticed the enormous hairdryer and straightening tongs in her sister’s suitcase.

In the spirit of sisterhood, Alice decided to try again and took a deep breath. ‘It’s such a glorious day. Have you changed your mind about a bit of exploring?’

‘I’m going to work on my tan,’ Stella announced.

‘But you’ll be out in the sun if you come with me to this villa. There’s a wonderful garden. We can do a bit of sunbathing there.’

‘It’s not the same. I want to lie about the pool and
really
relax. You’ve no idea how stressed I’ve been recently,’ she said with a dramatic sigh.

Alice watched as Stella untied her bath robe and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing the skimpiest of bikinis in a metallic gold material that managed to look expensive and cheap at the same time.

‘Put some cream on my back,’ she said, handing Alice a large bottle of coconut-scented sun lotion. ‘Blimey! That’s cold!’ she complained a moment later. ‘Can’t you warm your hands up or something first?’

‘No, I can’t,’ Alice said abruptly, ‘or I’ll be late for the bus. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?’

‘To that boring old villa?’ She made a funny huffing sound and waltzed out through the patio doors onto the terrace and took position on the sun lounger nearest the pool. Alice sighed. She couldn’t believe that they had flown all the way to the Mediterranean and Stella wanted to do nothing more than get a tan. Didn’t she want to see any of the island? Wasn’t she the least bit interested in exploring some of its history and culture? Well, Alice wasn’t going to just sit around, that was for sure.

‘My friends are all going to be so jealous of my tan,’ Stella said, stretching herself out like a cat. ‘You’ll have to get lots of photos of me,’ she said, putting on her very large, very dark sunglasses.

It was such a relief to leave the villa and walk into town. Why did she always let her sister get to her like that? She was twenty-eight years old and she’d had to put up with Stella for all but four of those years – surely she knew what she was like by now. So why did it still hurt her so much?

Alice caught a little bus from the centre of Kethos Town which headed up a road into the mountains. She’d shown her leaflet of the Villa Argenti to the driver and he nodded in understanding and Alice sat on the back seat and prepared to enjoy the journey. As long as it took her as far away from Stella as was possible on a tiny island, that would suit her.

Alice took a deep breath. She was going to push all thoughts of Stella out of her head and enjoy her surroundings and, looking out of the bus window, she gasped as she noticed just how high they had climbed. The road had twisted its way high up into the mountains and the drop back down gave Alice goosebumps but the view was spectacular. She could see so much of the island all at once from this vantage point and she could just make out the large curve of the coastline that made up one part of the heart shape that the island was famous for.

It was about twenty minutes later when the bus stopped and the driver nodded and pointed along a little road. Alice looked down it but couldn’t see anything.

‘Villa Argenti?’ she asked.

He waved his hand and nodded again and Alice hopped off the bus. She was the only one to do so and she watched as it rounded a bend in the road and disappeared.

Suddenly, she was alone and it was totally silent. She looked down the road the bus driver had pointed along but she couldn’t see anything other than trees and hills. Was there really a magnificent villa tucked away there? She took the leaflet out of her handbag but it didn’t help very much so she set off at a smart pace in what she hoped was the right direction.

The sun had climbed high in the sky and Alice soon felt she’d been walking for hours but consoled herself with the fact that you couldn’t go far wrong on an island. Then, as she rounded a bend, she saw a large white sign with the words ‘Villa Argenti’ on it. She sighed with relief and followed a tree-lined driveway until she came to a pair of large gates which stood open in welcome.

What now? she wondered. There was nobody around to take her money and she suddenly felt shy about entering the garden but she had come all this way to see it and she didn’t want to miss out now.

‘Hello?’ she called but there was no reply. She looked around. She really was the only soul about and, if that was the case, surely a quick look wouldn’t do any harm.

She followed a neat brick path and descended some steps and, suddenly, it was there. The Villa Argenti. It was a large wedding cake of a building with pillars and balconies and enormous doors and sweeping steps. Alice had never seen anything like it in her life. Its honey-coloured stone glowed warmly in the sunshine and Alice had the peculiar feeling that the house was actually smiling at her and she smiled right back at it. It had every right to smile too because it had the good fortune to be in one of the most beautiful settings Alice had ever seen. Completely surrounded by gardens which Alice couldn’t wait to explore, the villa was also positioned high enough to have one of the best views along the coastline of Kethos.

What a pity the house was not open to the public, she thought, although there was plenty to see in the garden.

Leaving the house behind her, Alice walked down yet more steps into a world of green. There was an immaculate emerald lawn that looked as if no human being had ever dared to walk on it and Alice was loath to now but there were no signs to tell her not to so she walked as quickly and delicately as she could, crossing to a little path lined with low walls which had been planted with flowering shrubs. It was one of those times when you needed at least three pairs of eyes to take everything in so Alice slowed her pace because she wanted to see everything: each tree, shrub and flower, and every pond, fountain and temple.

Alice had always wanted a garden. Their family home had a long strip of uninspiring grass which had never been very well tended and her little cottage only had a tiny enclosed courtyard. She’d bought a plastic chair and a terracotta pot in which she grew a rose bush but it wasn’t the stuff of dreams.

But this garden
was
the stuff of dreams. It was laid out in wide terraces which ended in a large stone wall on top of a cliff which plummeted down to the sea. It was a dizzying vista and Alice stood on the terrace, daring to lean on the iron railings that were the only thing preventing her from tumbling onto the craggy rocks far below.

Gazing out across the coastline, she suddenly felt sad and couldn’t help wishing that her dad was there with her. He would have loved to have seen the villa and the gardens. She would have to send him a postcard or two so that he could at least appreciate it all from afar.

Turning her back on the sea for a moment, she spotted an ornate white bench underneath a fig tree. Sitting down on it a moment later, she closed her eyes, her face drinking in the warm rays of the sun. She wasn’t sure how long she was sitting there for or even if she nodded off for a few blissful moments but, when she opened her eyes, a young man was approaching her. He was tall and had dark hair and olive skin and he was wearing khaki trousers and a dark grey T-shirt. If Alice had worn such colours, her complexion would have drained away to nothing and her sister would have berated her for her bad taste but, on him, they looked wonderfully masculine.

‘Hello,’ he said in English as he pushed an ancient wheelbarrow in front of him.

‘The gardens aren’t closing, are they?’ Alice asked, fearing she was being rounded up and pushed out. ‘I’ve lost all track of time.’

‘This place can do that to you,’ the man said. ‘But, no, they’re not closing. Not for a few hours.’

‘Good,’ she said, liking his gentle accent. ‘I don’t think I’m quite ready to leave yet.’ She looked up into his smiling face. ‘Do you work here?’

‘No,’ he said, ‘I just like coming and pushing a wheelbarrow around the grounds from time to time.’

She blushed. ‘Sorry – it was a silly question.’

He grinned at her. ‘No, I’m sorry. And, yes, I do work here. I’ve worked here for a very long time.’

Alice smiled. ‘It must be a wonderful place to work.’

‘It is, yes,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t want to work anywhere else.’

‘You’re very lucky.’

‘I am,’ he said simply and then he put his wheelbarrow down and sat on the bench beside her.

Alice shuffled up a little, not used to having handsome men sitting so close to her.

‘And where do you work? You’re here on holiday, right?’ the young man asked her.

Alice nodded. ‘I’m here for a week – with my sister.’

‘And your job? You have a job back in England – right?’

‘Yes, I’m from England and I do have a job but do you mind if we don’t talk about it? I wouldn’t like to spoil this beautiful place by talking about something so dreary.’

The man nodded. ‘I’m sorry to hear that it is dreary. That is a great shame.’

Alice nodded again. ‘I don’t really know what happened. I mean, you never plan these things, do you? You don’t grow up thinking, I want a really dreary job when I grow up. I want to be bored out of my skull and fill my days doing meaningless things that don’t seem to add anything worthwhile to the world.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘But I said I wasn’t going to talk about it and I wouldn’t want to bore you.’

‘You’re not boring me,’ he said, his dark eyes warm and attentive and, all of a sudden, Alice was talking – talking like she’d never talked in her life because nobody had ever really listened to her before except her father. She told him about her job and her boss and how bored she was there and how nobody ever seemed to notice her or care about what she thought.

She told him about her father and how worried she was about him even though he always said he was all right and that she shouldn’t worry. She told him about her sister and how cross she made her and how she’d thought this holiday would change things between them.

‘Gosh,’ she said once she’d finished, ‘I didn’t mean to say all that. I’m not quite sure where it all came from.’

‘That’s okay,’ he said. ‘You needed to talk it all out of you.’

She smiled at his funny phrasing but still felt horribly embarrassed at having unburdened herself to a complete stranger and so stood up and started looking for an escape route and then she remembered something. ‘I – er – I haven’t actually paid to get in,’ she said. ‘There was nobody at the gate.’

The young man waved his hand dismissively. ‘There’s no need.’

‘But this place must cost a fortune to keep going.’

‘Yes, but the owner has plenty of money. He doesn’t need yours.’ He stood up and followed her along a footpath and there was a moment of silence between them as their feet crunched along the gravel.

‘Did you come to see Aphrodite?’ the young man said at last.

‘Pardon?’ Alice said, surprised by his question.

‘The statue of Aphrodite – over there by the fountain. Most tourists come here to see her. Perhaps you missed her.’

‘I think I must have,’ Alice said, annoyed with herself. She thought she’d seen everything.

‘They say she grants wishes,’ the man said with a little smile.

‘Do they?’ Alice said.

‘If your wish is for love or beauty, it will be granted.’

‘I don’t believe in wishes,’ Alice said.

‘Just because you don’t believe in something, doesn’t make it less real.’

She blinked in surprise. ‘Perhaps I’ll make a wish another day,’ she said, ‘if I come back.’

‘I hope you do,’ he said. ‘Goodbye.’

He turned to go and she watched until he was out of sight and then glanced in the direction of the avenue of statues. She’d walked that way earlier but now realised that she hadn’t been paying attention. She’d been thinking about Stella and her head had been full of worries which meant she hadn’t really seen the beauty of the place she was in.

She took out the leaflet from her handbag. She’d remembered reading something about the statues there.

The Goddess Garden is a place like no other
, the leaflet proclaimed.
Travel back to Ancient Greece and meet Hera, Athena, Artemis and Aphrodite whilst enjoying the lush beauty of the garden with its fountains and sea views.

It was, indeed, a beautiful part of the garden with its enormous urns spilling over with bright flowers and its fountains cooling the air with watery mist. Alice walked up to the first statue which was standing beside the protection of a cypress tree. Its figure was long and boyish and her hair was scraped away from her rather serious-looking face. She was reaching behind her shoulder to where she was carrying her arrows and her other hand was resting upon the head of a faithful hound.

‘Artemis,’ Alice said, ‘goddess of the hunt.’

She walked on and found the next goddess standing by a small pool. She was carrying a sheaf of wheat, a gentle expression gracing her face.

‘Demeter,’ Alice said, ‘goddess of the harvest.’ She smiled because she knew that her knowledge would have intensely annoyed Stella had she been there.