Now, that would be the obstacle. Yannis’s total obsession with the unattainable. His wife was dead, but yet, in his mind, she obviously lived on, set on a pedestal where nothing and nobody could ever replace her. So in a way, if anybody did try to take her down from the pedestal, somebody—not herself, oh, no! But just supposing she were to allow her feelings of attraction towards Yannis to develop into…
But she wasn’t going to! However, if she hadn’t decided never to have a meaningful relationship or even a fling with another man she just might, having imagined herself to be attracted to Yannis, forget her single-woman plan and have another go at romance.
She picked up the hairbrush and brushed her hair vigorously. It would be a stupid thing to do but she was renowned for making stupid decisions—or rather non-decisions, drifting into disastrous situations that started out as fun and ended in tears.
And this hypothetical idea that she’d just dreamed up would most certainly end in tears! The goddess-like wife would always be there with them. And Cathy had played second fiddle long enough. Dave had told her he was separated from his wife and waiting for the divorce to come through. And idiot that she was, she’d believed him. The long business trips abroad he’d had to make away from her! She hadn’t questioned them because she had been in love and, therefore, that meant she trusted him implicitly.
What an idiot she could be! For a whole year she’d believed everything he’d told her. She’d been taken in by every single lie he’d told her.
It was the truth she couldn’t believe!
That awful Saturday morning when he’d turned up and announced his divorce wasn’t going through as planned. Well…sheepish expression on his face…to be honest, they hadn’t got around to planning it. Actually, he was still theoretically living at home. He and his wife had decided they were going to make a go of it. Purely for the sake of the kids, you know. His wife didn’t know about Cathy so he’d be truly grateful if she would keep it that way.
Mind you, if it were up to him…blah, blah, blah… She’d stopped listening to him by this time as she remembered the lonely Christmas she’d spent because he’d told her he had to go and stay with his sick mother. The numerous weekends when he’d had to fly away on business.
She put down the hairbrush and stared into the mirror again, this time seeing the face of a very gullible woman who never learned by her mistakes. But at least this time she’d learned. It would be the same kind of scenario if she chose to have any kind of dalliance with Yannis Karavolis. She would play second fiddle again to the perfect wife who could do no wrong. Yannis’s wife may not be with them in the flesh but she would certainly be with them in spirit.
She forced herself to grin at the picture of desolation she posed in the mirror. “Don’t take yourself so seriously,” she told herself. “It’s not as if you’re remotely attracted to the man so the situation isn’t going to arise.”
And with that she crawled between the cool sheets and tried to fall asleep. The fact that she tossed and turned for half the night was put down to the fact that she was suffering from jet-lag. Towards dawn she decided to get up and finish unpacking and sorting out her bedroom. At the first squeak from Rose she was in there, smiling welcomingly at her daughter, reaching out her arms for a cuddle.
* * *
In his bedroom overlooking the wide inlet of moonlit sea in Nimborio bay, Yannis was also finding it hard to sleep. He hadn’t expected to enjoy the evening when he’d invited Cathy and her little daughter Rose to join him for a drink. He’d certainly never envisaged they would all have supper together. And now it was time to admit to himself that he hadn’t felt so alive since before Maroula had died.
He flung the sheet away from him. It was too hot to be covered tonight. He ran a hand down the side of his naked body as he experienced a feeling of strength flowing through him. It was a good feeling, but the feeling was also tinged with confusion. Was it guilt, this awful feeling now that he shouldn’t be able to enjoy life without Maroula? He supposed it was. He didn’t really think he deserved to enjoy himself like that in the company of an unattached young woman.
It wasn’t as if he’d flirted with her, because he hadn’t. But she might have misinterpreted his friendliness as an ulterior motive, mightn’t she? She might have thought he fancied her in a sexual way. Well, actually, if he was truly honest with himself, he did! And that was something he couldn’t hide from himself.
That was another thing he’d discovered tonight. Looking across at Cathy, who was undoubtedly very attractive, he’d felt himself almost if not actually, physically moved. And that hadn’t happened since Maroula had died. He’d made sure that if he was in the company of an attractive woman he held a tight rein on his sexual emotions.
He’d lived like a monk for over three years. But tonight he’d felt himself drawn towards Cathy in a way that he couldn’t dismiss. Was it because he sensed that she was also trying to survive, that she was vulnerable like he was? He was attracted by her beauty, her warmth, her forthrightness and the fact that because she was a stranger she had the distance needed to be able to ask direct questions.
Whatever it was, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from allowing these long-lost feelings deep down inside him to come back.
But should he let them? Hadn’t he vowed that Maroula was his lifelong soul-mate? She was no longer here but he was. And what about all the promises he’d made after she’d died? He was going to make it up to her. She’d been cut off unnecessarily in her prime and he’d pledged to spend the rest of his life devoted to her memory.
He found himself beginning to get drowsy at long last. His last thoughts as he drifted off were about how he would love to have Cathy beside him here in his bed. Because his wicked physical longings were becoming unbearable. He doubted he would be able to resist the temptation of her wonderful seductive body. The trouble was that if he gave in he would never be able to forgive himself.
* * *
Cathy hurried down the Kali Strata, aware that she wouldn’t be able to reach the hospital in time. Having hardly slept all night, she’d spent too much time giving Rose breakfast, washing and dressing her, playing with her and finally taking her to Anna’s house.
Breathlessly she hurried into the hospital. A flash of recognition registered on the receptionist’s face as she leaned forward.
“Dr Karavolis would like to see you in his office, Dr Meredith.”
Cathy smiled. At least she was expected today. “Thank you. Which way…?”
The receptionist pointed. “Straight along the corridor. It’s the last door you come to.”
As she hurried down the long corridor, Cathy wondered if Yannis had chosen to be right at the end so that he would have a quiet bolt hole when he needed it.
“Come in!”
She pushed open the door. Yannis was seated at a large, imposing desk, staring at a computer screen. He stood up and came round the desk, taking one of the two armchairs and indicating she should sit in the other.
She sat down, wondering why she was feeling so awkward now. Was it that she’d fantasised about him so much in the night and now, seeing this tired-looking man with the serious face, she was realising that she’d misjudged the situation completely? They’d simply had a drink together and eaten some food because they’d been hungry. End of story, thank goodness!
“Did you get home all right last night?” he asked gravely.
“Yes, the taxi took me to the end of the street. How about you?”
“I live very near Michaelis’s taverna. A short walk. I asked Petros, my gardener, to collect your buggy this morning and see if he could mend it.”
Silence, the ticking of a clock in the background, the hum of the computer. Cathy cleared her