Before now, she hadn’t stopped to think how important it was for her to feel she was in control. It was another reason why she was so wary of Theo. With his charming and persuasive manner he could take away any sense of control she thought she had, leaving her feeling irrationally frightened and defenceless. And it wasn’t difficult to work out why this would be: as a child she had witnessed all too often the terrifying consequences of her mother’s loss of control. She had seen, heard and felt things that had left an indelible impression on her young mind.
To lose control was bad.
To be in control was good.
It was as simple as that, and until now she hadn’t realised how closely she had stuck to this subconscious rule. But looking back on her life, she could see that everything she had ever done had been carefully and calmly thought out and entirely of her own making. There had been no room for spontaneous outbursts.
And yet ... and yet there had been the awful incident with Alan when she had lost her temper with him. More recently, there had been that embarrassing display of pique with Max and Laura over Theo.
So what did these slips of inner rage say about her? That, deep down, and if sufficiently provoked, she was as close to the edge as her mother had once been? Or did they mean, and please, God, let this be the answer, that she was capable of a lot more than she gave herself credit for? And, if so, where did that leave her with regard to Theo? Was it possible that, and with a bit more effort on her part, she could learn to let go when she was with him and enjoy a whole new sense of freedom?
When she thought of Theo in more rational moments, especially when he was being so nice to her, the way she was treating him didn’t seem fair to him.
Since she had hurt her ankle — and between his many business commitments, which had taken him into Corfu Town and once to Athens — Theo had been a frequent visitor to the villa, often bearing gifts of the sweet and sticky variety for them all.
Yesterday he had joined them for lunch and brought her
When Darkness Falls.
‘How’s Mark?’ Max had asked, when they were all seated around the table. Much to Max’s disappointment, he hadn’t accompanied Theo on any of his visits.
‘Working hard. He scarcely speaks to me these days. He is writing all hours. He says he is on a roll. Is that the right phrase?’
‘Sounds like it could be.’
Then, lowering his voice to a low whisper and resting a hand on Izzy’s leg under the table, he had said, ‘So, Izzy, am I on a roll with you?’
She had blushed so much that, at the other end of the table, Laura had raised her eyebrows and smiled. Sally had noticed too and winked. But Max, bless him, unaware of the situation, had asked Theo what was taking him into Corfu Town later that afternoon. ‘It’s such a scorching day, it’ll be murder.’
‘I know, but I have an appointment I must keep.’
‘Doctor or dentist?’ asked Francesca.
‘Neither. With a lawyer.’
‘Oh, another acquisition?’ asked Max.
‘Yes. A piece of land. The contract has to be signed today, or the owner will sell to somebody else. Somebody less desirable.’
‘In my experience, the rival businessman is always the one who is less desirable,’ said Corky. ‘Is it much land?’
Theo shrugged. ‘A fair amount.’ Izzy got the impression that he was being modestly evasive.
‘On the island?’
He smiled at Olivia. ‘What is this we are playing? A game of Twenty Questions?’
‘Come on, Theo,’ laughed Max, ‘you’ve got us curious now. What are you up to? A spot of property developing here on Corfu?’
‘If you must know, I am up to precisely the opposite. I am buying some land to prevent an area of great beauty from being spoiled.’
‘How altruistic of you,’ sighed Sally. ‘I just love a man who does something for the good of everybody else, don’t you, Izzy?’
‘An admirable quality indeed,’ Izzy said, without meeting Sally’s eye — or anybody else’s for that matter. ‘Are we allowed to know where the land is, Theo?’
To everybody’s surprise, he said, ‘It’s right here in Ayios Nikólaos, the olive grove that leads down into Kassiópi. I discovered last week that the family who own it have been offered a substantial amount of money to sell up. The buyer wants to erect several blocks of apartments.’
‘But that’s awful,’ said Izzy, horrified. ‘It would destroy the magic of this whole area.’
‘Which is why I am buying the land and putting a stop to any such plans.’
Later, when Theo had left them to drive down the coast for his meeting, taking Sally and Francesca with him so that they could go shopping, Laura had got Izzy on her own and asked her what Theo had said to make her blush so dramatically. ‘I’ve never seen anyone look so red. Or so guilty,’ she added.
Since the night she had gone out for dinner with Theo, Izzy had kept Laura informed of most of what went on between them, and as far as Laura was concerned, she was on to a winner. ‘Go for it, Izzy. He’s crazy about you. We can all see it. Even Max is coming round and admits that he was perhaps a little quick to judge Theo.’
‘But I’m scared of him,’ Izzy had confessed. ‘I know it’s silly, but I can’t relax when I’m on my own with him.’
‘That’s because you haven’t learned to trust him. Or, more accurately, because you haven’t learned to trust yourself to trust again. You think that because you made one error of judgement, you’ll keep on doing it. Just relax with him and you’ll find that everything will slip into place. I guarantee it.’
But that, Izzy said to herself, resuming her letter to her mother, is not as easy as Laura thinks it is. There were far too many reasons why it would be simpler for her to keep well away from Theo.
And, besides, what would be the point?
Why get involved with a man who, in all probability, when her holiday ended, she would never see again?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
That evening, Laura sank into her chair on the terrace beside Izzy, who, as she so often was these days, was engrossed in her book. Exhausted — too tired even to admire the setting sun, she closed her eyes, grateful that Corky and Olivia had gone into Kassiópi with Francesca and Sally.
As kind, as thoughtful and as fun as they were, her in-laws were running her ragged. With most of the sights now ticked off on their extensive list of places to visit, Laura was almost out of ideas and energy to keep them amused.
Why couldn’t they be lazier? A little more like her own parents.
Why this constant need to be so active?
And why on earth did she feel so dog-tired? Surely she should be used to the heat by now. Last night during supper Francesca had caught her with her eyelids drooping and had teased her that she was hitting the menopause. ‘When all those hot flushes kick in we won’t need to bother with a log fire in the winter,’ she had laughed. ‘We’ll sit in front of you and warm our toes.’
Oh, the cruelty of youth.
Olivia had suggested a course of HRT, saying she wished she had been young enough to take advantage of it when she had gone through the change. ‘My hot flushes were so awful, they were more like tropical rainstorms,’ she had said. ‘I had several fainting phases as well. Very unpleasant.’ Maybe, with all that behind her, it was no wonder that Olivia was so full of beans.
She and Max had done their best to occupy his parents, taking them far and wide. They had been to Kanóni to see the much-photographed Mouse Island with its chapel tucked into the cypress trees. Another day they had been to the top of Corfu’s highest mountain, Mount Pantokrator, all 2,972 feet of it. They had been lucky with the weather: the sky had been crystal clear, and they had been able to make out Paxos, and even a glimpse of mainland Greece. They had also been to Corfu Town and had covered what to Laura had felt like every square inch of it. They had taken in the new and old fortresses, the paper money museum, the leather and jewellery shops, of which there were hundreds, and all had had to be inspected before Max’s mother decided what to treat herself to. Then they had sat in the cool, gloomy interior of the beautiful old church of St Spiridon, with its towering campanile and red onion dome, which they all decided bore an uncanny resemblance to a fireman’s helmet. In true Anglican fascination, they had watched locals hurrying in during their lunch-break to light candles and plant ritualistic kisses on the tomb of their much-loved patron saint, their lips murmuring prayers of hope and exultation. They had finished the day by relaxing over a drink in the quiet, arcaded street of the Listón where Max and Corky had got involved in the drama of a local cricket team showing a guest side from England how the game should be played.
On another day they had taken the boat out and explored the coastline south of Kassiópi, spending an afternoon at Kalámi Bay where Corky was keen to see where Gerald Durrell had lived as a boy. Then they had moved on to Kouloúra where several minutes of For Your Eyes Only had been filmed. ‘Not one of the best Bond movies, I’ll grant you,’ Corky had said, when they stopped off for lunch at a waterside taverna. His comment had inevitably led to a discussion as to which had been the best 007 extravaganza. Olivia claimed that Sean Connery was the only true Bond, though she was prepared to give Pierce Brosnan the benefit of the doubt. But Francesca claimed that the early movies had been nothing but a blatant display of misogyny. ‘You should all be ashamed of yourselves,’ she said, with disdain. ‘Ian Fleming hated women — you can see it in the way they were portrayed in those early films, targets of sexual and physical abuse every time.’ That shut them all up. There was nothing like a verbal knuckle-rapping from the younger generation to put the older one in its place.
The following day they had visited the Achillion. Originally built as a hideaway palace of over-the-top kitsch for the Empress Elizabeth of Austria, a lonely, unhappy woman with a penchant for statues, it was now one of the island’s most popular sights. Its more recent claim to fame — other than having been a casino for some years — was that, like Kouloúra, it, too, had been used as a setpiece in For Your Eyes Only. After several hours of admiring statues and taking photographs, Laura had assumed — had hoped — they were set for home, but Olivia had suddenly been consumed by an irresistible urge to venture into the nearby distillery where they had been roped into tasting and, unbelievably, buying several bottles of kumquat liqueur. It was terrible stuff, so sweet it had turned Laura’s mouth inside out. She couldn’t think what Olivia was going to do with it all, apart from contribute it to the Christmas tombola she and Corky organised every year for their local church.
Having rested for a short while, Laura now opened her eyes and said to Izzy, ‘Whatever shall I do with Max’s parents for the rest of their stay? The thought of yet another crowded beauty-spot fills me with dread. I wish it had been my ankle that had got twisted. It would have let me off the hook nicely.’
‘You could tell them there’s nothing else worth seeing,’ Izzy said, lowering her book.
‘But they’ve got their guidebooks to prove me wrong.’
‘Then your only course of action is to tell them the truth. Honesty is always the best policy.’
‘I quite agree with you, Izzy.’
They turned to see Max coming towards them with a bottle of wine and three glasses. ‘Which is as good a cue as any to say that I’m not just your wine waiter for the evening, but the bearer of bad news.’
Laura took the glass he offered her. ‘Oh, and what’s that?’
‘I’ve just been on the phone to Phil from the office. I have to go home sooner than I thought.’
‘Trouble?’
He sat down in the chair next to Laura and smiled. ‘Nothing a whiz kid like me can’t handle. Do you mind very much?’
‘Yes,’ she pouted. ‘Lots. When are you planning on going?’
‘I thought I could leave with Mum and Dad on Friday, if I can get on the flight. A later one, if not.’
Unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice, Laura said, ‘How long do you think you’ll be away this time?’
‘Difficult to say until I get a feel for what needs doing. It’s a new client we’d be mad to lose out on. But at least you’ll still have Izzy for company, not forgetting the girls. How about we have a lavish, all button-popping meal in Kassiópi the night before I go?’
‘I suppose that might soften the blow.’
The next morning, while lying in bed next to Max, Laura had a change of heart. ‘Let’s not eat out on Thursday night,’ she said, ‘let’s have a party instead. It’ll be more fun.’
‘But won’t that make more work for you? You keep saying how tired you are.’
‘Such concern for your poor ageing wife does you credit. But I’m being more cunning than you think. I’m relying on your parents to take over. You know how they love organising a party. This will keep them busy for the rest of their holiday.’
‘You clever old thing, you.’
During breakfast, and just as Laura had predicted, Corky and Olivia seized on the idea.
‘Why don’t we make it a theme party?’ suggested Olivia.
‘Fancy dress, you mean?’ asked Sally.
‘Oh dear, does that sound very dull to you? In our day fancy-dress parties were all the rage.’
‘No way, it sounds cool. How about we do the whole Greek myth scene?’
Across the table, Laura saw Max roll his eyes and knew what he was thinking — Sally licensed to thrill in nothing but a transparent sheen of gossamer.
A guest list was immediately drawn up. Francesca took charge of this. At the top she wrote Theo’s name. Laura saw her give Izzy a sly look, which Izzy tried to ignore, but the colour of her cheeks gave her away. Laura smiled to herself and said, ‘Do you think we could persuade Mark to come along as well?’
‘We can but try,’ said Francesca, adding his name, then Harry and Nick.
‘You’d better include their parents,’ Laura said. ‘It’s about time we met them.’