A Greek Affair

‘We’re both capable of getting through that next step in our lives. We deserve to be loved. You get some therapy and I’ll find a way to come out to my parents. Deal? And if we falter we can be there for each other, that listening ear; someone who understands all about living with a nightmare.’

I guess I’d be a real hypocrite if I thought that Harrison’s challenge is any easier than my own, but having therapy and thinking about loving a new someone? Thankfully I’m now too tired to do more than simply drop into bed, as the ship sails onwards to the port of Civitavecchia.

It’s Time to Head Home (#ulink_ff5062bd-a72a-52ca-a99e-a8467e722e2b)

I wake just as the ship is docking and I hop out of bed, drawing back the curtains to glance out over the port. There is only one other cruise ship moored up but there’s a wide range of smaller ships and boats as far as the eye can see. Civitavecchia is very spread out and it’s obviously a popular port, being so close to Rome.

In front of the ship is a jetty with a road leading up to a series of car parks. Parallel with that is a massive, off-white stone building. It’s twice as long as the jetty, with an imposing circular tower dominating the centre of it. It’s quite a beautiful building and with the sun glinting on the shiny white vessels all around, as ports go it’s pretty enough to resemble a luxury marina.

I’m conscious I don’t have a lot of time. I did my packing late yesterday afternoon but I still need to put the last-minute things in my case and get myself ready. The shuttle bus will be here at nine-thirty.

It’s just gone 8 a.m. when I make my way to the café to meet Harrison for our last breakfast together. He greets me with a big smile and I really appreciate that he has made this last couple of days an even better experience for me

‘Morning, lovely lady. You look good and rested. Did you sleep well?’

He kisses my cheek and pulls out a chair for me.

‘I did, surprisingly. How about you?’

He grimaces. ‘I spent most of the night having the conversation in my head and every time I stumbled. The words just wouldn’t flow and I kept imagining the look on people’s faces.’

The waitress appears and we order, then settle back in our chairs. I look at him and can feel the battle raging within.

‘What’s the hardest part of coming out, for you?’

He shakes his head, sadly, looking defeated and shrugging his shoulders.

‘Facing up to my own fear, I suppose, that people I love will look at me differently from there on in. What if they don’t understand? My parents were, no doubt, expecting me to settle down again, at some point, with a nice young woman, and eventually give them a grandchild, or two. That’s the norm for the little village in which they live and now, suddenly, I’m going to turn their lives upside down once more. The divorce was more than enough drama to inflict upon them and this is going to rock their world all over again.’

The coffee arrives and there’s a temporary lull in our conversation. I can’t help thinking that one glance at Harrison and the assumption is that here’s a man whose life is sorted. And yet, that’s so far from the truth.

‘I know precisely what it’s like to be surrounded by people whose lives seem to fit the mould, because mine doesn’t. I hate the fact they feel the need to tread carefully around me. I’m grateful for the help and support I’ve been given, of course I am, but I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. A lot has gone wrong but that only seems to perpetuate the sympathy. I cringe every time someone close to me says it’s about time I had some good luck. That makes me sound ungrateful, doesn’t it?’ I shrug ruefully.

Harrison stirs his coffee, moving his cup so the waitress can lay his breakfast plate on the table in front of him. It’s a stack of pancakes with blueberries and I have French toast with crispy bacon. But instead of tucking in, we both play with the food in front of us, our appetites having evaporated into thin air. We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity and then both look up at the same time.

‘I’m done. How about you?’ The look on Harrison’s face makes me wish my stay on board was longer. After a rough night, he needs something to lift his mood.

‘Let’s get out of here. I feel the need for some fresh air.’ I’m already pushing back on my chair.

Harrison offers to walk me back to my cabin but we amble, going slightly out of the way to linger and take in the view out over the port. We stand together by the guard rail, two people united by the baggage they find themselves carrying.

‘I wish I could stay just one more day, but I can’t. I want you to promise me that you’ll shrug off all those negative thoughts and find someone who is going to cheer you up for the remainder of the cruise.’

He makes a face. ‘One of the lonely widows, you mean?’

I smile at him, because there do seem to be a lot of elderly single women on board.

‘Yes, that’s just what you need! Someone who is out to have a thoroughly good time and would really appreciate a little company.’

He looks at me, studying my face.

‘I doubt I’ll find another Leah,’ he replies, rather soberly.

‘I think one Leah is enough for this trip. I’m best tolerated in small doses.’

He laughs out loud and it’s good to see his face light up again.

‘Well, that works both ways. You managed to drag my secret out of me and that’s a first.’

‘Friends in need, eh?’ My eyes search his face, reaching out to him.

Harrison steps forward to give me a brotherly hug.

‘What’s the saying? Two heads are better than one? Between us we’ll finally knock our lives into shape, you can bet on that.’

He puts a smile on my face, too, but even though I’d love to stay, thoughts of Rosie and home are calling.

‘And you need to look into getting some help the moment you get back home.’

I stifle a sigh, but I know he’s right and I wonder how often Mum and Dad have longed to say that to me and haven’t, for fear of upsetting me? Sally has touched on the subject a few times over the years but always ended up backing off when she saw my less than enthusiastic reaction. I thought I was coping well enough on my own. But maybe I’m not.

~

‘Mum, I missed you!’ Rosie runs forward, wrapping her arms around me and hugging with all her might.

‘How was the journey back?’ Mum looks at me over the top of Rosie’s head.

‘Good. Uneventful. The plane wasn’t full and I had a window seat with no one sitting the other side of me.’

Rosie finally releases me so I can hug Mum and Dad. Dad looks a little flushed, but is his usual bright and breezy self. Mum looks drawn and I wonder what’s up.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Dad says, heading off to the kitchen. Rosie follows him, probably more interested in grabbing a biscuit than helping with the preparation.

‘Are you okay?’ I make eye contact with Mum but it only lasts for the briefest of moments before she turns around to sit back down in her chair.

‘Everything’s fine. You look chirpy considering that must have been quite a tiring little break.’

She’s trying to change the subject but I need to know what’s gone wrong.

‘Mum, I’ll only worry if you don’t tell me.’

She looks exasperated, glancing at the doorway and then back at me.

‘It’s probably nothing. Dad’s had some blood tests taken because his blood pressure was up. There’s nothing to worry about, really, as they’re keeping an eye on it.’

It’s the little nagging worry that never goes away. Ever since Dad had his heart attack Mum watches him like a hawk, and I know it’s a daily worry for her. She’s my barometer when it comes to gauging how he’s doing and one look at her face is enough to see that she’s concerned.

‘You will let me know when the results are back, won’t you? I thought he looked like he’d been rushing around. Maybe it’s just—’