Two days after their trip to Santorini, Stavros judged the time was right to show his wife the site of their proposed new home. Lynn was visibly more relaxed and she had acquired the light tan that made her skin glow and brought her silver hair into sharp and attractive contrast with the dark eyes and eyebrows that gave her face distinction.
She wore a new peach dress he had bought for her with broad straps, a flowing skirt and a gold belt around her neat waist. She looked like the young girl he had first met on the Greek islands so many years before and his heart accelerated to see her so content.
He had waited for the perfect moment; a brilliant day with just a light breeze and fresh green dappling the stony hillsides. Borrowing a ramshackle old car from one of his many cousins, they drove out of town after a particularly good lunch shared on the patio of a tavern. He had ordered one of Lynn’s favourite dishes; fresh lobster thermidor with green salad and feta cheese washed down with a delightful semi-dry white wine that even he realized was worth every penny it cost.
A recent rain had damped down the dusty road and after a drive of a few pleasant miles, he turned off the main road and down a bumpy track towards the Aegean, slowing deliberately so that the incredible view would come into sight gradually, unrolling slowly before them for the greatest effect.
Lynn was aware that she was getting the full treatment. Not only lunch, gifts and a country drive, but, more importantly, her husband’s complete attention. Despite this awareness, she could not but respond to the influence of the day and the occasion.
She held her breath as the car slowly advanced onto soft sand, and stopped. The windows were down and the first thing she noticed was the sea-scented air blowing her hair gently back from her face. The small bay before her was enclosed by two low and curving headlands, like the fingers of a lover caressing a beloved face. Between them was the brilliant blue of the sea and in the sheltered bay the waves creamed on the shore with scarcely a murmur.
At first Lynn could not speak, or even tear her eyes away from the combination of sight, scent and sound. In the back of her head she knew this occasion had been choreographed by Stavros for maximum impact. Her own impressions were what mattered most now and she would be true to herself and still give this amazing place a fair chance to work its enchantment on her.
She sensed her husband’s impatience to speak, but she held up a warning hand and opened the car door so she could see and experience everything.
The sand was soft and warm through her sandals. She walked parallel to the shore line until she came to the ruins of a wooden shack situated right in the centre of the bay but about 200 yards from the sea. Behind the shack a hummock of scrub and bushes acted as a windbreak and sheltered a hidden flock of small birds twittering in alarm at her approach.
She stood on the concrete pad that was all that was left of the terrace Stavros had told her of, where he and his brothers and sisters had dried off after swimming and enjoyed calamari with Pepsi cola.
The time had come to seriously consider if a house on this site could possibly translate to a home in which she could happily spend the rest of her life.
Looking out again at the constantly changing azure shades of the sea she noticed for the first time that there were two or three small homes tucked into the hillside closer to the waves. Neighbours, perhaps? That would be a good thing when Stavros was off teaching his courses. How would these people feel about a foreigner invading their pristine paradise? Would she feel isolated here? What would it be like to live here in the winter when stormy waters pounded the shoreline?
As if he had heard her unspoken questions, Stavros appeared at her side and placed a warm arm around her shoulders.
“What do you think, Lynn? Isn’t it a magical place?”
Without taking her eyes away from the stunning view she said, “No one could deny that Stavros, as you very well know.”
“I wanted you to see it at its best so we could discuss the house together. I think it should be tall enough to capture all the views. The original small footprint of the restaurant does not allow us to expand too far forward so I thought three levels would be appropriate with a deck area on the roof for days when you prefer not to get sand between your toes.”
Lynn let him ramble on. She scarcely listened to his enthusiastic plans. As far as she was concerned it was far too early to be discussing how many rooms there would be or what type of windows would work best. These were decisions for a future time when, and if, she had committed to the entire move to Greece. There was a lot more than square footage at risk here. Her entire life would have to be reset like a clock when the seasons change. She would not, could not, be swayed by the importuning of the master persuader at her side. For once in their life, she would have to make up her own mind. The consequences of a mistake at this point were too awful to consider.
She hated to burst the fantasy bubble he was expanding to encompass them both but it was time to bring some harsh realities to bear on the issue.
“Stavros, please sit down here beside me and please listen to me. You know I love you. I can see how much this plan means to you and I know what you have said about the opportunity this gives us to capitalize on our savings. I can’t deny any of that and I know I am behaving out of character in questioning your decisions about our future.”
She stopped and swallowed, but could not look at her husband’s face in case she saw disappointment there. She had rehearsed this speech many times in the middle of the night and if she failed to deliver it now, in this place, she would never have the courage again.
“I wish I could throw myself into your arms and agree to every wonderful thing you have planned but the truth is I am afraid.
No, don’t stop me. Just listen.
My little life in England may not be as interesting or as stimulating as yours, my dear, but it is my security. It is where I belong. My family, my friends and my routines are my anchor when you are far away or involved in your work. They define me.
Who will I be when all that is gone?
You know very well, Stavros, what my greatest fear is. You watched as both my parents descended into their separate hells. My self-confidence is all that keeps me from being overwhelmed by the fear of dementia. I dare not risk such a disorienting change in my life at this point. Perhaps I am too old, but I am definitely too afraid.”
Lynn stopped and tried to still her shaking by breathing deeply of the briny air. A seabird called out raucously and she heard it as strident ridicule of her fears. She dreaded what her husband would say next. She could almost hear the wheels of his fine mind whirling and clicking as he selected and rejected a hundred reasons why her protests were invalid. To his credit, he did not express anger or try to change her opinion.
After a minute, he did the unexpected; the one thing that could actually help her situation. He asked a question.
“Tell me what else is bothering you?”
A rush of air escaped from her lungs. The relief was palpable. She had done it. She had said her piece and the world did not dissolve away. She leaned into his shoulder and began again.
“Well, it’s really part of the same problem but on a more practical level I suppose. If we leave England, I will have my old age pension but it will be frozen at the current rate and never benefit from any subsequent cost of living increases.”
“But, my dear, my pensions are sufficient to keep us comfortably here in Greece where we can definitely live more cheaply.”
“I realize that, but the more serious implication is that our access to the National Health System will expire after a period out of the country.”
He hesitated and then continued in a more subdued tone of voice. “Oh! Are you thinking that if the worst happened, you would not be able to rely on health care, similar to what your mother had in the nursing home in Heathfield?”
“Exactly! You know how I feel about being a burden on Sarah and you also know how we had to sell my parents’ home in order to qualify for the care she received in the English nursing home towards the end of her life. Neither one of us was capable of looking after her by then, Stavros. I could not bear for you to lose your home to fund my final years in either country.”
“But, Lynn, why would I not look after you here? We could plan a ground floor bedroom suite that could be converted to nursing care if it ever became necessary. That would work for either one of us. Who knows what the future will bring.”
“Oh, my dearest! I am so moved by your generosity but I could never allow you to sacrifice your life for me in that way. I know what it means and I would hate it if you tried. We know each other very well and you would, no doubt, endure to the limits of your patience but it would kill me to see you fail, as you inevitably would.”
Silence met this dire prediction. Cruel reality seemed out of place here in this lovely bay, but Lynn knew it was a reality that had to be dealt with. Strangely, she was not depressed by stating her fears. She felt warmed through by the understanding Stavros had shown. He had not denied the truth of her concerns and this gave her hope that he might turn his creative mind to solving their current problems in the same way that he solved teaching and archaeology challenges in the other areas of his life.
He was a brilliant man. She hardly knew how she had managed to hold on to him for all these years and now she was threatening a precious plan for his well-deserved retirement in this place where his roots lay so deeply.
She had no idea what would happen. It seemed to be a dilemma with no obvious solution.
Stavros returned to the car and brought back a knitted wrap for his wife’s shoulders.
Without a word, they sat with clasped hands and watched the sun slowly descend toward the sea. A glorious sunset would soon be unfolding before them as if to display the finest, most appealing views the location could offer.
Lynn saw the splendour but felt drained of sufficient energy to respond.
Her husband’s brain, however, was humming with layered plans and strategies.
Yes, this was a setback.
Plan A might not proceed but there was always a plan B. Always.
Lynn seemed emptied of emotion in the days following her confession about her fears. She was content to sit in the sun reading or sleeping. They had a meal or two with Stavros’ relatives and took leisurely drives to visit familiar land marks on Paros, but Lynn was glad to rest for most of the time. They did not discuss the dilemma any further and this suited Stavros very well. His plans progressed without interruption.
First he contacted Sarah at home in Uckfield and swore her to secrecy. His enquiry was related to the possibility that her mother could spend several months of the year living in Sarah and David’s house in England.
Sarah was startled to get this request from her father and answered swiftly. “Of course, dad! You don’t have to ask. We will shortly have two spare bedrooms the way things are going over here. Does this mean that you intend to go ahead with the move to Greece? What does mum say about it?”
“Your mother has concerns, naturally, but I am trying to work out solutions for her. Please say nothing until I have more information.”
“All right, if you insist. When will you two be home again?”
“Your mother will be back soon but I am going to stay on for a while. I have work to do for my summer course as well as all the other stuff here on Paros. Give my love to Caroline and Mike and thank David for me.”
“I will do, dad. What am I thanking David for?”
“Oh, just for marrying such an amazing wife!”
He closed off his mobile phone while Sarah’s laughter still rang in his ears.
That was the easy part done. Now he had to tackle something much more delicate. He had to renew his previous contacts with Lynn’s brother Philip. This arrangement, also, had to be kept secret for now so he waited till his wife was dozing on the hotel terrace in the afternoon sun and snuck off down one of the town lanes where he would be overheard only by pots of geraniums and sleepy cats.
“Philip, it’s Lynn’s husband Stavros again. Do you have any more information about your schedule this summer?” Stavros knew how busy the architect was and got straight to the point. Philip was not a person who enjoyed small talk.
“Ah, I was about to contact you Stavros. I have been thinking about your ideas for the beach property. As you know our firm specializes in solar and green technologies and your building in Greece seems a good candidate to try out some new ideas. I want to experiment with a technique for a movable solar panel that tracks the sun and collects much more energy. We could install several on the roof and still have room for the upper deck area you mentioned.”
Stavros was elated. He had expected to have to persuade Philip to get involved in the project and instead, he was running with it beyond any of Stavros’ expectations.
“I am delighted with these ideas Philip. Does this mean you do have time to work with me this summer?”
“I can come down and see the site and draw up plans subsequent to that but I can’t commit a team of on-site people. We are too busy with the London Olympics here. Once I know the technologies we can use on Paros, I will send a tech expert. Can you furnish a builder and construction workers at your end?”
“Absolutely! I have brothers and cousins in the business and I will supervise when you are not available.”
“That should work then. Let my sister know when I will be there; probably in July for a few days. In my experience, a woman needs to be involved in the planning for her new home, or there will be hell to pay.”
Stavros thought that was quite likely, if everything in his elaborate scheme did not go according to plan.
He thanked Philip and insisted on bills being forwarded to his university office as soon as possible then returned to the hotel with a satisfied grin on his face. There was one thing to be said about having to deal with a brother-in-law who was an unknown quantity. Matters could be kept on a business level without family issues intervening. Short and focused communications were always more productive in the end.
His mind moved to the next part of the plan; contacting an estate agent in Uckfield or Heathfield who could obtain the best price for the Horam house and do it swiftly.