But I haven’t changed, she thought. I know that now. And perhaps I never will until I have the courage to face my demons and put them finally to rest. And maybe that time has come.
She took a deep, painful breath. ‘Very well, Kostas, I’ll come as soon as I can get a flight—which I will pay for myself, thanks all the same. I’ll be in touch when I have the details.’ She added, ‘And wish Millie well for me.’
She occupied the rest of her day with some heavy duty housework, trying to ignore the small voice in her head telling her that she’d clearly learned nothing from her past mistakes and was, once again, behaving like an idiot.
Because she knew how doubtful it was that Millie would make the same concessions for her, if their positions were reversed.
But she could probably live with herself, she thought drily. Whereas I couldn’t—especially if this illness of hers turns out to be something really serious.
And, in that case, what kind of medical attention could Millie expect in so small a place?
If she needs to come back to England with me, I’ll deal with it, even if it means finding an even bigger place.
She decided to have an early night, in view of all she had to do the following day, hoping, too, that sleep would silence that little warning voice—at least for a while.
As she undressed, she embarked on a mental list of what she’d need to take with her to Rhymnos, remembering that the high summer temperature could soar to forty degrees plus.
Reaching for her nightdress, she glimpsed herself in the wall mirror and paused, wondering if the events of the past year had altered her in any significant way. But, apart from her severely shorn hair, her critical gaze could see no real change. Her breasts were still high and rounded, her waist small, her stomach flat and her hips gently curved.
I look, she told herself ironically, almost untouched. And found her laugh turning into a sob.
* * *
She spent a wretched, restless night and was sorely tempted, when her radio alarm went into action, simply to silence it, pull the covers over her head and stay where she was.
The coward’s way out, she thought wryly as she swung her feet to the floor and headed to the shower.
Her first visit was to the letting agency, to register her new requirements, followed by a wander round a cheap and cheerful fashion store which still had a few pairs of cotton cut-off pants, tee shirts and even a one-piece swimsuit available in her size and within her limited budget.
Working on the premise that she wasn’t sure how long her stay would last or if she’d be returning alone, she booked a single flight at the travel agency, and bought some euros, knowing she would have to use them carefully because she could afford no more.
But her most difficult task was still ahead of her, she reminded herself as she emerged into the street, subjecting her, no doubt, to more disapproval and more pressure. Except this time, she’d have a positive response to make. An actual workable plan for the future.
She heard her name called and turning saw Janet Forbes coming towards her smiling.
‘I’m glad I’ve seen you,’ she said. ‘I was planning to get in touch anyway and have a chat, over an iced coffee maybe, or are you too busy?’
‘No, that would be great.’
They went to a cafe with a veranda overlooking the river, its banks busy with families sunbathing, eating ice cream and feeding the ducks.
‘I wanted to say how delighted I am that we’ll be working together again next year,’ Mrs Forbes began as they sipped their coffees under the shade of the awning.
‘Megan was a nice girl and very conscientious, but I always felt that she was simply filling in time. Whereas you...’
She paused. ‘I wondered if you’d ever considered getting a BEd and becoming a teacher yourself, because I’d say you were a natural.’ She added swiftly, ‘Not that I want to lose you, of course. Please don’t think that.’
Selena was all set to declare herself perfectly happy with her lot. Instead, to her own astonishment, she heard herself say, ‘I did start training but got no further than the second year.’ She forced a smile. ‘Family problems.’
‘Well, that’s a great shame.’ Mrs Forbes gave her a thoughtful look. ‘You could always go back to it, you know. It’s never too late to start again.’
That, Selena thought, is what I keep telling myself. Maybe it’s time I believed it.
‘One day, perhaps,’ she said. ‘I mean, I’d love to, but right now I have—other priorities.’
‘Well, do bear it in mind for the future.’ Mrs Forbes got to her feet, collecting her bags. ‘I hate to see talent wasted.’ She patted Selena on the shoulder. ‘Maybe when your family problems are behind you.’
Except, thought Selena, watching her go, you don’t know the half of them. And I can never tell you, or anyone else, what happened two years ago.
Or that I’m still struggling with the aftermath.
SHE SUPPOSED SHE ought to move. Go back to the store and buy some of the clothes she’d seen. The absolute minimum would do and was all she could afford anyway.
But being accustomed to living on not much could stand her in good stead if her life changed in the way she hoped.
Not ‘if’, she told herself, but ‘when’.
And in celebration, she recklessly ordered another iced coffee.
How strange, she thought, when she’d been watching Janet Forbes so closely, admiring her classroom technique, her patience and ability to engage the children, and keep them interested and focussed, that, all the time, Mrs Forbes had been watching her. Deciding to encourage her into teaching.
Not blackmail her into it.
She’d been sixteen, quietly delighted with her GCSE results when Aunt Nora had dropped her bombshell. Informed her that all her university expenses would be paid as long as she, and eventually Millie, too, agreed to teach at Meade House after graduation.
Otherwise, Selena could forget the Sixth Form and college, leave her comprehensive school and find a job.
‘I had to settle your late parents’ debts as well as bearing the costs of your upbringing,’ her aunt had stated coldly. ‘I expect to be repaid, Selena. And Amelia, of course, will have to do the same.’
She paused, allowing that to sink in. ‘And kindly stop looking as if your death sentence had just been pronounced. At Meade House, you and your sister will be guaranteed a continuing home, careers and security. A little gratitude would not come amiss.’
How am I supposed to look, Selena had wondered, when every plan—every dream I had of getting away from Haylesford and being my own person—has been virtually knocked on the head?
For a moment, she’d been prepared to say To hell with it and take the risk, but she knew that she could not make choices that would also affect the future of fourteen-year-old Millie. That was neither right nor fair.
And once her agreement had been obtained, however unwilling, there had been a perceptible easing of Aunt Nora’s strict regime, leading eventually, inevitably to Millie being permitted her Greek holiday with her friends.
Selena had found a vacation job in a cafe, one which turned out to be short-lived because one showery July day her aunt slipped and fell in her garden and ended up in hospital with a broken leg.
Aunt Nora, ensconced in a comfortable private room, received her sourly. ‘They won’t allow me to