‘I’m in Kefalonia,’ Becky informed. She wasn’t so shocked at hearing those words now. Not after eating deep-fried cheese (saganaki), fresh sardines and a Greek salad with tomatoes that were so good she’d consider marrying them if they proposed.
‘You’re in Kefalonia!’ It was Hazel’s turn to sound shocked now. ‘That’s the wrong island, Becky. You’re supposed to be in Corfu! C-or-fu. Not Kef-a-lo-nia. What happened, dear? How did you get on the wrong plane?’
‘I didn’t get on the wrong plane,’ Becky answered. Did experienced vacationer Hazel think getting on the wrong plane was an easy thing to manage these days with digital boarding passes and enhanced security checks? Well, she supposed Hazel did cruise far more than fly… ‘There was bad weather in Corfu so we couldn’t land. We diverted to Kefalonia and we’re having to stay the night.’
‘Another freebie! You’re on a fucking roll!’ Shelley shouted, letting out a whoop afterwards. Then she laughed. ‘And not the wholemeal kind you’re fucking used to! Get it? On a roll?’
‘Shelley! Language!’
Becky shook her head at their camaraderie. ‘I just didn’t want you to worry and… I wanted to tell you that I’m seeing another destination I never thought I’d see.’
‘You’re almost doing a cruise itinerary without the cruising bit,’ Hazel said, sounding slightly miffed.
‘Listen, I’d better go.’ Becky looked over to their table right next to the sea view. Petra and Elias were in conversation and she wondered what they were talking about. Perhaps Petra was asking him if he was single again… ‘Hopefully, the next time I call you I’ll actually be where I’m supposed to be.’ There was a degree of humour to the scenario now. Kind of.
‘Megan asked about you today,’ Shelley blurted out.
Becky’s heart leapt. ‘Did she? What did she say?’
‘She asked us if—’
‘She wanted to know if we had heard from you and whether you were having a lovely time,’ Hazel interrupted. ‘You go, dear. Go and find yourself a Captain Corelli. I would if I was there!’
Megan wouldn’t have asked the team something like that. It wasn’t her sister’s style.
‘Shelley,’ Becky said. ‘What did Megan really say?’
Becky heard Hazel give a tut of annoyance before Shelley continued.
‘She asked if we knew if you had “stopped faffing around with ideas for the nursing home summer party”. The manager had left a message on the answerphone apparently.’
Becky closed her eyes and held on to her resolve. She had planned to look at her notes – and drawings – later when she was tucked up in bed in the hotel that overlooked the harbour. Megan still didn’t approve. Still didn’t want any part of the party. And what had the answerphone message said? Had they brought the deadline for pitches forward? Was she going to miss out on the chance of the job anyway?
‘She doesn’t mean it, dear,’ Hazel tried to console. ‘You know how stubborn and single-minded she can be. I do think you going on your holidays was a shock to her.’
‘Yeah,’ Shelley agreed. ‘I mean, you’re always here, aren’t you? Always the first one in and the last one to leave and the one who actually cares about the customers… well, you know, I care about them sort of. I care about them enough to wash my hands and that, so they don’t get bacteria in their baps.’
Always there. Reliable. Dependable. Thinking of others. If ever there was a reminder that what she was doing by escaping was the right course of action, then this was it. Reliable was fine, commendable really, but being walked over was not.
‘I have to go now. More not-sandwich-making to do.’ Becky ended the call before anything else could infiltrate the slightly thicker skin she was desperately trying to grow with regard to her sister. That was it. When she eventually got to Corfu and got settled beside the pool that was waiting for her, she was going all out to make the best pitch she could for the nursing home party. And nothing was going to stop her.
‘Becks! We’ve got to go!’ Petra yelled.
Becky looked to their table. Petra had leapt up and it appeared Elias was gathering his phone, wallet and sunglasses together. Was there an earlier flight? Would they be heading back to the airport sooner than planned?
‘If we want to see the cave, Agelos says we need to go now! And he’s going to take us! We can eat when we get back! And there’s gonna be Greek music later! Bonus!’
Who was Agelos? She had only been on the phone for a few minutes! Becky then saw that all the early evening diners were now focused on Petra like she’d shouted her plans through a megaphone. Which, to be fair, was how it had sounded. Becky adjusted the strap of her bag and walked back towards the table.
Twenty-One
Melissani Cave, Kefalonia
Elias had received another email from Chad. He had checked his phone on the slightly wild ride up the coast from the taverna, bumping along in the back of a flat-bed truck driven by waiter, Agelos. Somehow, Agelos seemed to have time to be Petra’s tour guide despite the restaurant busying up substantially before they left. But, it was better news on the divorce front. Kristina had riled Chad on Messenger, talking about their boat and then the polo club membership. It was back to full steam ahead with Elias’s plan and he couldn’t help feeling a little more relaxed because of this turn of events. Relaxed enough to be looking forward to this detour from normal life.
‘It echoes! Have you heard?’ Petra called out, her voice rebounding around the cave surrounding them. ‘Ooo, can you hear?’
‘All anyone can hear is you shouting and the echo of you shouting,’ Becky informed her in one of those whispers that seemed greater in volume than base-level talking.
They had descended through a tunnel into the bowels of the cave, taking in the stalactites – spiky shards of rock poking down from the roof, slick and shiny with moisture – and were now standing at the base of the steps they had descended down waiting for their transport. It was cool inside the cave, a subterranean world with colours and light virtually never seen above. Now here, at the edge of the underground lake of water, the rays of the evening sun poured through the large hole in the rock above them, creating an ethereal glow on the ragged rocks and lighting up the middle of the pool, changing the hue of the water to the most vivid of turquoise.
‘Wow!’ Petra breathed, eyes going to the sky.
It was how Elias imagined standing in the centre of a volcano would feel like – albeit an inactive and not white-hot one. One small person amid large-scale, intimidating walls of granite, sunshine spilling through a guardian of trees at the circumference of the ring of light above them.
‘I can’t believe this is real.’
The sentiment came from Becky who was gazing skywards, inching closer towards the edge of the lake. A guide was heading towards them, standing in a tiny blue-painted rowing boat. Agelos had called in a favour and they were going to receive their own private tour when really tours for the day should have been over. Elias had a feeling that if Agelos hadn’t received a frantic call on his mobile phone from his uncle, he would have stayed for the tour too, but he was coming back to pick them up in an hour.