2018
Quinn steps out of the former hotel’s main entrance and into the car park, Aphrodite cradled in her arms. The others follow. She hears the rumble of a car engine, but the vehicle is still out of sight.
To Quinn’s right, almost uncomfortably close, stands Mel. On Quinn’s left are Joe and Holly and beside them are Zoe and Carl. A semi-circular welcoming committee. Andreas is lurking near the front door, flicking the ash from his cigarette into one of the terracotta pots that line the front of the building.
‘Two cars,’ Mel says, her elbow brushing against Quinn’s.
‘What?’ says Quinn.
Mel frowns. ‘There are two cars coming, not one.’
Quinn attunes herself to the approaching noise but can’t tell if Mel is right or if the hyper-vigilant policewoman part of her is imagining things.
‘Look,’ Holly says, breathless with excitement. ‘Look.’
Heading towards them down the narrow access road are two black Land Rovers, dust billowing in their wake.
‘Did Sofia say anything about bringing someone with her?’ Zoe asks.
‘No.’ Quinn holds Aphrodite’s warm body close to her chest.
‘Security,’ Mel says. ‘She’s brought security with her.’
‘Why would she do that?’ Carl asks.
Before anyone can answer, the Land Rovers squeal to a halt in the car park. Driving each vehicle is a man in a white shirt, black waistcoat and dark sunglasses.
‘Yup,’ says Mel. ‘Bodyguards.’
‘They look like chauffeurs,’ Quinn says.
Mel shakes her head. ‘Trust me.’
Bodyguards? Quinn is sure the men are just escorting Sofia. It’s not as if Sofia needs protection. Not from anyone at Pure Heart. She bends down and puts Aphrodite on the ground, but the cat crouches by her ankles.
The waistcoated men leap out of the vehicles in synchronised fashion. Mel edges closer to Quinn, as if to shield her, which makes Quinn smile. She doesn’t need protecting. Not from their little Sofia.
The vehicles have tinted windows. No way of seeing which car Sofia is in.
Holly gasps. ‘It’s like a member of royalty’s arrived.’
‘Or a drug dealer,’ Mel says. ‘They always have tinted windows.’
Quinn sizes the men up. The older of the two is short and compact, his blond hair clipped close. The younger man – tall, bulky and bald – looks brutish and intimidating.
‘They’re armed,’ Mel whispers.
Quinn spots a bulge beneath the right side of the men’s waistcoats. Are they really carrying guns? The grinning skeleton on the Tarot card flashes through her mind.
In another display of synchronicity, both men open a back door of each vehicle. Mel clenches her fists. Quinn wonders if the men are triggering bad memories of her time in the police.
‘Relax,’ she tells Mel. ‘It’s only Sofia.’
The big guy reaches inside his Land Rover and pulls out an extravagant bouquet of flowers. Birds of paradise, canna lilies, giant sprays of green foliage.
Like everyone else, Quinn turns her eyes to the other vehicle. The short guy holds out his arm. A slender hand, fingers decorated with sparkling rings, meets it. Then comes one long, toned leg, followed by another.
Aphrodite hisses.
Quinn stares at the young woman standing before her. She is at least six feet tall, even in her flat, Grecian sandals. A white maxi dress hangs from her slender, long-limbed body. Her skin is bronzed and flawless. Oversized sunglasses shield her eyes. Her platinum blonde hair, dark at the roots, reaches past her shoulders in feathery layers. Hair that frames a narrow face with sharp cheekbones.
A face so familiar it shocks Quinn to her core.
‘Eva?’ she says.
‘Oh, Quinny.’ The woman laughs. ‘I do look like her, don’t I?’
Quinn’s heartbeat tumbles over itself. She glances around her. Joe, Holly, Zoe and Carl are all staring at the visitor, their faces ghost white. Is hers as pale? Mel’s eyes are fixed on the smaller bodyguard, a muscle twitching in the side of her face.
‘It’s me,’ the woman says. ‘It’s Sofia.’
‘You do,’ Quinn says. ‘You do look like her.’
‘Little Sofia?’ says Carl. ‘Wow.’
‘Oh, my God,’ chorus Zoe and Holly.
‘No way,’ Joe mutters.
There she is. Sofia. Standing before them, in the same spot where she disappeared from their lives a decade ago.
Quinn is aware of Andreas’ footsteps behind her. The sharp, woody scent of his tobacco. ‘So beautiful,’ he says. ‘Just like your mother.’
Sofia removes her huge sunglasses, revealing thick eyebrows hovering over eyes so dark they are almost black. Eva’s eyes.
Sofia stares at the house. Her lips move but no sound emerges.
Quinn also finds herself struggling to speak. Only when she feels the eyes of her community upon her, expecting her to take charge, does she summon some words. ‘Welcome home,’ she says, ‘we’re so happy to have you here.’ When she opens her arms and steps in to hug Sofia, the larger bodyguard intercepts with the bouquet of flowers. ‘Oh.’ Quinn takes the bouquet, feeling like an overwhelmed minor royal on a walkabout. The heady scent of the flowers is overpowering. ‘These are… my God, they’re so beautiful. You didn’t have to—’
She breaks off as Sofia bends down and kisses her on both cheeks.
‘It’s lovely to be here,’ Sofia says. She has a polished, upper-class English accent. Hers is the clear, confident voice of someone who has attended the very best schools. Someone who mixes in privileged circles. ‘So lovely.’
The thin gold chains around her neck catch the sunlight. As do her diamond drop earrings and the large diamond ring on the middle finger of her right hand. Quinn suspects this display of wealth is merely armour. Sofia will soon realise she doesn’t need to hide behind anything at Pure Heart. Everyone here is interested in her soul. Not her money.
‘Look at you, Quinn,’ Sofia says. ‘Don’t you look well?’
Quinn smiles. ‘That’s kind, but—’
‘Sixty next week. I can hardly believe it.’
‘You remembered my birthday?’
‘Of course. I haven’t forgotten anything about my time here.’ Sofia looks around at the others. ‘I hope we’re having a birthday party?’
‘This is Pure Heart,’ Carl says. ‘We know how to party.’
‘Wonderful.’ Sofia graces them with a smile, exposing flawless dentistry. ‘I’ve so many fun ideas for it.’
Holly rushes over to Sofia and enfolds her in a tight hug. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she says, her voice thick with feeling.
Zoe dives in next. After embracing Sofia, she compliments her on her dress.
‘It’s Max Mara,’ Sofia says.
‘I thought so,’ gushes Zoe. ‘It’s divine.’
Divine. Quinn rolls her eyes. Honestly. She watches them all, the bouquet of flowers heavy in her arms. After Zoe comes Carl, who holds Sofia a little too long in her opinion. Then Joe, who looks overcome with emotion, like a father greeting a long-lost child.
When Andreas finally steps forward to kiss Sofia on both cheeks, Quinn finds their reunion quiet and touching. As if no time has passed at all. As if they saw each other only yesterday.
‘Dear Charles,’ Sofia says, glancing around the car park. ‘Even though Quinn told me he’s dead, I keep thinking he’s about to appear.’
‘He thought the world of you,’ Quinn says.
Sofia smiles. ‘You must all miss him so much?’
‘So much,’ Zoe says.
‘If only we could speak to him one more time,’ Carl says. ‘I’ve got so many questions for him.’
‘We think about him every day,’ says Holly.
Joe nods. ‘It’s impossible to forget him.’
‘Where’s Blake?’ Sofia asks.
Heat crawls across Quinn’s chest. ‘He left.’
‘A long time ago,’ Holly adds.
‘Oh.’ Sofia tilts her head to one side. ‘That’s a shame.’
Quinn waves the sympathy aside. ‘This is Mel,’ she says, keen to change the subject, ‘the newest member of the Pure Heart family.’
Mel cuts off a potential hug by offering her hand, which Sofia clasps in a formal handshake.
‘Sofia Belova,’ their guest says, ‘I can’t wait for us to get to know one another.’
Mel murmurs something indistinct. Her eyes are trained on the bodyguards, as if she expects them to pounce at any moment.
Quinn waits, expectant, wondering if it’s her turn for an embrace, but Sofia walks past her and stares up at the Pure Heart building. Quinn pushes aside a momentary feeling of hurt. Sofia must be overwhelmed right now. No need to rush anything. The two of them will have plenty of time together.
‘I’ve never stopped thinking about this place.’ Sofia’s tone is suddenly serious. ‘About all of you.’
The silence that follows is broken by a loud thud as a huge suitcase lands on the driveway.
‘I am sorry,’ says the smaller of the bodyguards. Is that a hint of menace in his accented English? Quinn brushes her fear away. She must be picking up Mel’s paranoid energy. The larger man hauls two more identical cases from the boot of the same vehicle.
‘I’m dreadful at packing light.’ Sofia lets out a high, brittle laugh. ‘There’s even more I’m afraid.’
‘Are those Louis Vuitton?’ asks Zoe, admiring the cases.
‘Of course,’ says Sofia. ‘A little crass I know but the quality is exceptional.’
‘Exquisite craftsmanship,’ Zoe says, then glances around her, a guilty expression on her face.
Quinn calculates all her worldly possessions would struggle to fill just one of those cases. Sofia will soon remember how liberating it is to live without so many things. Owning too much can weigh a person down.
‘Well, we want you to feel right at home,’ Quinn says. When the big guy asks where to take the luggage, she shakes her head. ‘Don’t worry. We’ve got this.’
‘It is not a worry,’ he replies, his accent even thicker than his colleague’s.
‘No, it’s fine,’ Quinn says. ‘Thanks for dropping her off, but you’re free to go now. We’ll take it from here.’
Both men look at Sofia.
‘My bodyguards have to stay with me the whole time,’ she says.
‘Oh.’ Quinn’s forehead creases with confusion. ‘You didn’t mention them.’
‘I must have.’
‘You didn’t,’ Mel says. ‘We would have remembered that.’
‘It’s a pain, but these days I’m considered a kidnap risk.’ Sofia points to the smaller man. ‘This is Dmitri.’ Dmitri stops what he is doing to spare them a brief nod. The larger man, still unloading cases from the boot of the second Land Rover, doesn’t bother looking at them at all when Sofia introduces him as Grigor. ‘They’ll need a room each. Is that okay?’
Quinn hesitates, trying to catch up with this turn of events. She didn’t factor in the presence of bodyguards. She mistakenly assumed that with her grandparents gone, Sofia would be a free agent, able to make her own choices. Never mind. The men will soon see how much everyone at Pure Heart loves Sofia. How safe she is here. After a while, the two of them will probably leave.
Mel eyes Sofia with suspicion. Quinn knows she must be doubting the young woman’s fragility. Sofia’s imperious tone doesn’t give the impression of someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Quinn knows her behaviour is a facade. A persona to hide the frightened, insecure girl inside.
‘Quinn?’ Sofia says. ‘Is that okay?’ She turns to her bodyguards. ‘Quinn’s in charge here. We must all remember that.’
‘No, no, no.’ Quinn recovers her composure. ‘We’re a democracy here. I may have founded this place, but we’re all about equality.’
‘We vote on everything,’ Holly says.
‘Quick vote,’ Joe says. ‘All in favour of our extra guests.’
Joe, Holly, Carl and Zoe raise their hands. When Quinn raises hers, Mel follows with a sigh.
‘Well, that was easy,’ Quinn says. ‘We’ll open up two extra rooms for Grigor and Dmitri.’
Dmitri speaks to Sofia in Russian. She replies in the same language.
‘They’ll check out the hotel and decide which rooms they need,’ she says to Quinn.
‘No problem at all,’ Quinn says. ‘We’ll have it all sorted by tonight.’
‘And I’m in my old rooms?’ Sofia asks. ‘The ones I shared with my mother.’
‘You are,’ Zoe says, ‘I got them ready for you this morning.’
Sofia smiles. ‘How sweet.’
‘Maybe we should eat while your luggage gets carried up?’ Joe suggests. ‘I’ve made Greek salad and—’
‘Sorry, Joe, but I stopped in Kakopetria and had lunch there,’ Sofia says.
‘Oh, right.’ Disappointment flashes across Joe’s face.
‘I went to that restaurant Eva used to take me to. The one where the old guy sits outside all day roasting chickens on a spit. I made a total pig of myself.’ Sofia pats her stomach, which is so flat it looks like she never eats at all. ‘I should save some room for dinner.’
‘Aye, good plan,’ says Joe. ‘I’ve made some of your favourites.’
Grigor asks Sofia something in Russian.
‘This pair could do with feeding,’ she says. ‘If there’s enough?’
Joe nods. ‘Aye, sure.’
Quinn steps forward and links an arm through Sofia’s. ‘There’s plenty for everyone at Pure Heart,’ she says.