STARTLED, Zoe wrenched her head around then blinked when she found Kostas sitting across on the other side of the car with Toby strapped in between them sleeping the sleep of the contented innocent.
‘It is not wise to give arrogant bullies like him all their own way, either,’ she flicked right back.
‘You goad him,’ said Kostas.
‘I asked him a simple question and he took my head off!’ She defended herself despite knowing that she did goad Anton all the time and without really understanding why she needed to do that.
And where was he going to that he needed an extra car? she wondered as she watched the lead car begin to move away. Preferring to slit her own throat than to ask Kostas the question, she made do with telling herself that she didn’t care where he was going so long as it was far away from her.
‘He has business to attend to in the village.’ Kostas, who could clearly read minds, offered up the information without her request. ‘He must then be back here to board his plane before sunset arrives because our small airport is not authorised to function after dusk.’
‘So this isn’t actually his private island, then?’ He’d just claimed it as such.
Kostas made a face. ‘It is the place of Anton’s birth, the home of his late father and many more Pallis fathers before him. Anton built the airport, the small hospital in the village and the new school, and he provides employment for anyone who wants to stay on the island or helps those who prefer to find employment elsewhere.’
There was pride in Kostas’s voice as he reeled off his employer’s good points, pride and affection. It only stung Zoe’s into a stubborn determination to think the worst of Anton Pallis’s motives even here in this island where everyone obviously believed he was some kind of living saint. Well, the devil knew how to soften people up with favours—before he demanded your soul as recompense. And she was determined to keep her soul very much intact, thank you very much!
She hated Anton. It was really quite unsettlingly exciting how much she hated him. The feeling kind of taunted her with all different kinds of nerve-stimulating flicks and flurries, so she had to sit tense-backed and consciously control her breathing so what was going on with her on the inside would not show on the outside.
They’d been driving steadily down through the trees since they’d left the tiny airport; now the forest had thinned out to reveal pretty green meadows dotted with olive and fruit groves basking in the sultry late sunlight. In front of them the water was closer, the dusty road they were travelling along showing a junction not far ahead. The front car went to the left; they turned to the right and were suddenly travelling parallel to a pine-edged sandy beach. She could see boats out on the shimmering sea like tiny white dots of glinting white and was surprised to see a small hotel on the opposite side of the road.
‘You have a tourist industry here?’ she asked because, despite not wanting to be interested, she discovered that she was.
‘Tourism is not discouraged,’ said Kostas. ‘However it is expected of anyone who comes to stay on Thalia that they maintain standards of behaviour we islanders are used to here.’
Another snippet of information, Zoe acknowledged. Kostas was a native of this island too.
‘So, what happens if they don’t behave?’ Suddenly her lost sense of humour crept out for an airing. ‘Does he have them thrown into jail then lord it over them in judgement?’
‘He has them removed,’ Kostas said, smiling. ‘We observe zero tolerance from outsiders here. In a world beset by unruliness and crime we suffer neither. This is the one place Anton can come and relax and simply be himself.’
Wondering what Anton Pallis was like when just ‘being himself,’ Zoe chose to make no further comment. A despot was still a despot, no matter how relaxed he could make himself. A few minutes later they turned inland again winding around a shallow headland, and then everything changed within the single blink of an eye.
This was sheer heaven tucked in around a pretty crescent-shaped bay. The pine trees marched almost to the edge of the soft sandy beach, which was all she managed to take in before they were turning yet again and she found herself staring at the promised big gates. Though why they were there at all baffled Zoe when she could see no sign of a fence or a wall, just more pine trees forming a shallow wood either side of them.
The gates swung wide to allow the car to drive through them and she forgot all about fences when her vision was suddenly filled the most breathtakingly beautiful white-painted villa, with pale-blue woodwork and a terracotta roof nestling in a gently tended landscape.
Everything was so pretty, she thought as she glanced around her curiously. Nothing was too formal or overstated, just the tall trees forming a majestic backcloth to sun-kissed green lawns and the villa.
The car drew to a stop then in front of a blue-painted door. Zoe turned her attention to releasing her brother’s seat from its restraints when Toby suddenly woke up as if some instinct had told him all the hours of travelling were over. He went from sweetly angelic to loudly demanding attention with no gap in between. Abandoning her attempts to release his seat, Zoe swapped to releasing Toby from his safety harness instead, shushing him as she gathered the small protesting baby into her arms before scrambling out of the car.
Kostas was already standing on a deep, shady terrace; his big, bulky frame was being hugged by a small lady with a plump face and shining dark brown eyes.
‘This is Anthea, Anton’s housekeeper—and my mother.’ He introduced Zoe in the gruff voice of embarrassment of a tough guy going all soft in front of his adoring mother. ‘This is thespinis Kanellis and her brother Toby.’ he completed the introductions to his mother who was staring at Zoe with the kind of fascination which made her feel as if she’d just landed here from Mars.
‘Beautiful hair.’ Anthea sighed out rapturously. ‘It is golden like the sun.’
Unsure how to answer that without blushing, Zoe was relieved when Toby notched up his crying levels and grabbed centre stage. The next few minutes went by in a rush as Anthea set about hustling them into the house and up the stairs with Kostas following behind them with their things.
Zoe found herself standing in a pretty room with the sunlight softened by the white drapes across the windows. A huge baby’s cot stood in pride of place, with other pieces of baby furniture set efficiently within reach of the cot. She spied a small fridge with en electric kettle placed on top of it, then an old-fashioned rocking chair by the draped window. There was even a television placed comfortably in reach of a small creamy-blue settee. Zoe could tell that the room had been hastily refurbished to accept a small baby, and she suffered a small twist of gratitude towards Anton Pallis because it looked as if he’d tried his best to have the room look as similar as he could to their kitchen in London.
A dark-haired pretty girl the size of a twelve-year-old stepped forward, all shy smiles for Zoe and soothing murmurs of comfort for the weeping boy.
‘This is my sister, Martha,’ Kostas offered up. ‘She is older than she looks. Martha is here to help you with your brother.’
About to insist that she didn’t need help with Toby, Zoe bit back on her independent streak when she saw the eager expression on Martha’s face. Before she knew it she was handing over the tense, crying bundle of anger that was Toby into Martha’s perfectly capable arms.
The next two hours went by in a daze, while between the two of them she and Martha shared soothing the small baby as he went through his usual evening cranky stage. It was gone eight o’clock before she was shown by Anthea into a bedroom directly across the landing from Toby’s room.
Decorated in the softest pastel blue, the colour was contrasted by the furniture which was heavy and dark. ‘Handmade right here on Thalia,’ Anthea informed her proudly. ‘Anton prefers to use local craftsmen whenever he can.’
The man could do no wrong, thought Zoe. She walked over to the window to look out on the now pitch