The feast day of the Epiphany brightened into one of those sunlit mornings that hinted of better weather to come. The snow still lay on the mountain ridges, but its magic had melted away, leaving little clumps of gritty residue. It was as if the white-out had never been. Washing hung on balconies, and villagers gathered beside the path that passed for a promenade to watch Father Mikhalis paraded in his finest robes with his acolytes, followed by widows in their black and grey Sunday best. Village dignitaries formed a vast procession, as he intoned the liturgy of the age-old ceremony, blessing the waters of the New Year. He then threw the gilded cross, attached to a rope, into the icy water.
Chloë shivered, as plucky local boys dived in to retrieve the holy cross while the flotilla of little fishing-boats and yachts blew their horns and the men let off fireworks once more. The mayor’s second son, Andreas, brought up the cross, waving it in the air. Custom said he would be blessed with good luck and health for the rest of the year.
Perhaps it was as well. Chloë smiled, knowing how he raced over the place on his scooter, minus a helmet, usually with some girl riding pillion. Alexa was watching, wrapped in her Puffa jacket. Her three-week stay had brought colour to her cheeks. ‘I’m going to miss all this.’ She sighed.
‘You don’t have to go back yet, do you?’ Chloë said.
‘I must, to sort out my work and a nursery for Olympia. I’ll be due maternity leave when the time comes, though.’
‘We must pop over soon. You know we’ll do anything to help.’
‘Of course, but nearer the time perhaps.’
‘You have only to ask.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll bring her here as soon as I can. I want the island to be her second home. She’ll love the sea and the beach, and meeting your friends. It’s been a super break, but it’s time to head back to reality. It’s not going to be easy, but I will make sure Hugh gets a look in. She is his child, whether he likes it or not.’
Chloë clutched Alexa’s hands. ‘Thanks for coming. You made this Christmas so special.’
‘It’s been quite a time.’ Alexa laughed. ‘And to think I almost missed your choir, the snow and the Christmas baby. It’s me who should be thanking you and Simon for a wonderful time.’
*
Della was standing beside them lost in thought. She had seen an advert in the local English newspaper for a Pilates-cum-yoga teacher, needed at the NATO airbase on the big island. She had all the qualifications and it fitted her need to find pastures new. Perhaps she could fill in an application and give it a chance. In her heart she was ready to move on. Her new-found sober self was eager to find more opportunities, perhaps to retrain in another sphere. There was nothing to hold her here, and the ferry meant she could keep in touch with her friends. A New Year and a fresh start. Santaniki had been a bolthole, but soothing her wounds with vodka no longer held any appeal. One day at a time. She repeated the mantra. She was learning to forgive herself. I’m still young enough to make a new life, she thought. Who knew what might be waiting for her across the wine dark sea?
*
Clive and Natalie stood holding hands, watching the ceremony from a discreet distance. This new closeness felt strange, but Clive knew Lucy wouldn’t begrudge it. She would always be part of him, but on New Year’s Eve, at Kelly and Gary’s house, when they had all joined hands to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’, Natalie had clasped him in a kiss, no longer in friendship but desire, and his whole body had responded.
Walks were no longer lonely affairs, but full of chatter and plans. Bella even had a friend in little Bertie. There was so much to talk about. As they were watching the boats honking and blaring across the bay, Clive knew it was time to strike. ‘I haven’t explored many of the Greek islands. Have you?’
Natalie shook her head. ‘Just family holidays in Zakynthos, then Corfu when I left college, and Crete, of course, with the children.’
‘It would be interesting to go island-hopping, before all the tourists arrive,’ Clive suggested. ‘Would you be interested?’
Natalie turned to him, smiling. ‘Sounds great. Are you asking?’
‘I’m asking.’ Clive tried to mimic a Liverpool accent.
‘Then you’re on.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I’d like to see more of Greece.’
‘I was thinking more of a honeymoon cruise than a trip. Now that I’ve found you, I’d like you by my side. I know Lucy won’t mind…’ Clive delved in his pocket ‘I’ve been meaning to give you this. It’s from the jeweller you admire.’ He opened a tiny box to reveal a gold ring, with little diamonds dotted into an N shape.
Natalie beamed with pleasure. ‘It’s beautiful and, yes, a cruise sounds wonderful.’
He kissed her gently and put the ring on a finger. ‘I hope you don’t mind but I took your measurement on the sly, when you tried on Lucy’s ring.’
Natalie was staring at her left hand. ‘Mind? I can’t believe this is happening.’
A horn blew as the fireworks shrieked into the sky but neither of them heard a thing, lost in the excitement of their future together.
*
Gary felt Kelly clinging to his arm. ‘You all right now?’
‘I feel dizzy,’ she whispered. ‘It must be the noise and the prawns we ate last night. It was a good party last week,’ she added. ‘Did you see Natalie and Clive get it on at last?’
‘Very cosy.’ Gary winked. ‘Looking very loved up.’
‘I’m glad. Natalie’s a nice woman and Clive is a decent bloke, for his age.’
‘And you seem happier.’ Gary hugged her to him. ‘Your knitting’s going down a treat. How many orders so far?’
‘Enough to be going on with. I forgot to tell you that, while you were at the appeal committee, Sammia came to thank me for the layette. Her baby’s beautiful, with such dark eyes. I’m glad they’re out of the cave. Fancy Arthur letting them live in his house. Mel said some of their neighbours aren’t too happy, but she’ll sort them out, given time.’ Kelly shivered.
‘I think we should be going. You look so pale.’
‘I’m feeling out of sorts and need to go back on a diet. My boobs are like balloons.’
‘I like your boobs.’ He squeezed them.
‘Ouch! Get off!’ she said. ‘Let’s go and watch that DVD you brought.’
As they made way their way back up to the house, Gary paused. ‘Hang on, girl, when did you last have the curse?’
‘You know me, never know when. It’ll be on me soon enough, judging by the signs.’
‘So, no period, sore boobs, feeling faint… Do you think…?’
‘Don’t go there, Gary. It’s just the PMT I always have.’
‘All the same, I think you should do a test.’
‘No, we’ve done too many of them. It’s not going to happen. Forget it. I’ve got my knitting.’ She strode out ahead of him.
‘You sound just like my gran! Knitting indeed! Let’s go home and do something a little more vigorous than knitting…’
‘Garfield Partridge, I don’t know what you mean.’ Kelly giggled.
‘Up them stairs and let’s be having you…’
*
Mel rushed back to the taverna, which was filling up fast with Irini’s friends and villagers on their way home. It was going to be a busy lunchtime for a change. Spiro was back in his post, grilling lamb ribs. She’d come back early from the blessing of the water, knowing they would soon be rushed off their feet. There was just time to call in to see the new family up the street, but Sammia was out. Little Ibrahim was making Mel broody. She felt a special connection to him, after helping to bring him into the world.
Youssef had been alone, busy decorating the living room. They were grateful for some of Arthur’s furniture, but all his personal effects had been removed discreetly by the vicar.
The two couples were sharing the house for the time being, but their presence had caused comment from some of Irini’s sewing group earlier in the week. ‘They said it should go to a local family, not strangers,’ Irini reported.
‘They’re not strangers, and Kyrie Arthur wanted them. It’s in his will,’ Spiro yelled. ‘Tell them, Mama, you know how hard-working they are…’
‘Strangers indeed,’ Mel added. ‘I, too, am a stranger, so what do I know? In the war this township opened its heart to strangers.’
‘They were soldiers, and it was different then,’ Toula argued, listening in to their conversation. ‘They do not worship as we do.’
‘In my eyes it’s the same God for Jews, Christians, Muslims. At least they make time for worship, not like many others on this island,’ Mel responded. ‘They’re good people, with good hearts and that’s all that matters… not like some folk I could mention, who sit around in their dirty shirts, smoking like chimneys, playing cards and drinking, so their families go hungry while the women do all the work.’
‘Enough, Melodia. Let’s get on with our work,’ Irini said. Of course she wouldn’t want to offend any regular customers.
Subject closed. Mel sighed. She would have to tread carefully with her neighbours. Only time would prove her right, she hoped. Thank goodness for her children, her husband and her compatriots in the book club and the choir, if it continued. Marrying a foreigner was never easy, trying to fit in with a strange culture and opinions, but this was the life she had chosen and she had no regrets. Well, perhaps just a few, she thought, as she cleared the plates ready for more hungry hordes to descend.
*
Sammia watched the boats in the harbour, bobbing on the water. The wind was warmer, the daylight a little longer, and she was filled with hope and gratitude. Ibrahim was a citizen of this island, her husband ready to take on any job he was offered. They had a proper roof over their heads, thanks to the generosity of a stranger. At times it was all too much to take in.
How life had changed since they first stepped off the ferry on to this blessed place. Allah, the Compassionate One, had heard her plea and answered in a way only He could.
The baby stirred at the sound of the horns, his eyes open with wonder. She was determined to do everything in her power to keep him safe and well. She watched Karim throwing pebbles into the water, jumping as they splashed. The sea that had brought only fear and death now brought laughter and pleasure to the child. Long may it continue, she prayed.
*
Ariadne sat in the olive garden, feeling the welcome sun on her cheeks while Hebe busied herself in the borders. Ariadne had bought her a kneeling pad with handles for Christmas, so Hebe could ease herself up and down as she weeded. It was good to see her content, her restlessness calmed by touching her precious plants.
What a strange few months since they had all gathered on that book-club night, sweltering in the September heat, when she had thought up a little choir. So much had happened, for the better, she hoped. Elodie would be proud of their efforts. Without her generosity, none of this would have happened. It was also giving Ariadne time to come to terms with what lay ahead. The appointment in Athens loomed, and the decision as to whether they should stay on Santaniki or return to Yorkshire was keeping her awake at night.
How could they ever leave the olive garden? All the work they had done together to create this little paradise, could they yield it up to someone else?
Spring came early here. Hebe was at her best in the garden, among the flowers and tending their olive grove. How could they think of letting it go? Here, indeed were green thoughts in a green shade. There must be a way through the coming difficulties and, after all, she would not be alone. The Olive Garden Choir, begun so light-heartedly, was now a community of new friends and old, who had come to their aid when the fire threatened to destroy their home.
Arthur’s gift topped everything. It would seal the future for so many good people who, through no fault of their own, found themselves stranded without hope. From little acorns grew mighty oaks. Who knew where their venture would lead? It was a journey forged through friendships and generosity. Surely only good could come from that.