Wish You Were Here

‘Oh, you’re so old sometimes!’ Tiana said with a little laugh.

‘Maybe I am,’ Milo said, ‘but you should take advantage of that and learn from me.’ He shook his head. He was beginning to sound old even to himself now. ‘Come on – helmet on!’ Milo ordered as they walked towards the moped.

‘Do I have to?’ Tiana protested.

‘You most certainly do.’

‘But I want to feel the wind in my hair,’ she said.

‘If you want to feel the wind in your hair, it’ll be a very long walk home.’

She pouted but then placed the helmet firmly on her head and Milo helped her with the strap. Then they both hopped on and took off. Milo took the roads a little slower when Tiana was riding behind him. He loved to speed around the island when he was on his own, careening around the bends a little too fast sometimes and speeding down the hills towards the sea but he was the perfect rider when Tiana was with him and he never took any unnecessary chances.

Feeling the tightness of her little hands on his waist, he smiled.

‘You okay?’ he shouted and he felt her squeeze his belly in affirmative response. They rode through another village, scattering a group of children who were kicking a football around and then they ascended into the hills before coming to a stop at last.

Their house was like most of the others on the island: small, square and white but, over the years, they’d put their own stamp on it, painting the three tiny bedrooms, living room and kitchen in cheering yellows and vibrant reds apart from Tiana’s bedroom which – like the bedrooms of almost every other ten-year-old girl around the world – was a symphony of pink. Milo remembered the weekend they’d chosen the pots of pink paint together and had spent two whole days getting just as much paint on themselves as on the walls.

The furniture around the house was simple wooden hand-me-down pieces which weren’t worth a lot of money but were good and sturdy. His favourite piece was a rather fine rocking chair by the fire which had been rocked by at least four generations of Galanis. He adored that old chair.

But it was the garden which was Milo’s real forte. He’d planted it with flowers, fruit bushes and vegetables. One of the perks of his job at the Villa Argenti was that his pockets would often be stuffed with seeds taken from the garden he’d created there and he’d replicated some of the borders at the villa in miniature in his own back garden for Tiana. Even though he spent all day working in one garden, he couldn’t resist tinkering around in his own once he got home, only he really didn’t have time for that tonight. There were the morning dishes to wash, dinner to prepare, the ironing to do and heaven only knew that the little house hadn’t seen the sight of a vacuum cleaner for a good many days.

Walking into the kitchen together, he watched as Tiana reached into a cupboard for her favourite pink glass before filling it with pineapple juice from the fridge. She took it to the table and sipped it thoughtfully. It was a routine that Milo observed every day and never tired of. What a little miracle she was, he thought, and how wonderful that she had come into his life.

She looked up at him with her large dark eyes and smiled. ‘What is it?’ She was at the age where he could no longer just stare at her without her asking him what he was doing or thinking or plotting.

‘It’s nothing,’ he said.

She didn’t look convinced. ‘Tell me!’

He shrugged but then said, ‘You are happy here, aren’t you, Tiana?’

She sighed. ‘Of course I am,’ she said. ‘Why do you always ask me that?’

‘Because I worry.’

‘What about?’

‘Everything. I worry that you’re not happy living with me. I worry that you’re not happy living here. I mean, are you sure you wouldn’t want to live somewhere else?’

‘Like where?’

‘Like the mainland.’

She shook her head and took another sip of her pineapple juice. ‘Why would I want to live there?’

‘No reason.’

‘You said it was horrible there. You said it was dirty and smelly and noisy.’

‘It is.’

‘So why would I want to live there? You’re not going to send me there, are you? We’re not leaving here, are we?’ she asked, her eyes filled with anxiety.

‘No, we’re not leaving here.’

‘Well, then,’ she said with a little shrug before finishing her juice and leaving the table. ‘I’m going on the computer,’ she added as she left the room.

‘No, Tiana! You’ve spent quite enough time on there already for one day.’

‘But I need to. It’s for my homework!’

‘Well, I’m timing you. Make sure it’s just your homework you’re doing and remember I’ll be checking up on you.’

‘No, you won’t. You’ll go out in the garden and forget all about me!’

‘I will not, you cheeky miss!’ Milo shook his head. Honestly, his little sister could be so astute sometimes.

Chapter 8 (#ulink_73bd65b2-279e-5497-b69c-9a47777cc692)

The room was cool and dark and Alice had no idea what the time was when she awoke, fumbling for her travel clock on the bedside cabinet. Eight o’clock.

‘Eight o’clock!’ she cried, leaping out of bed. She didn’t want to miss a single moment of her holiday and ran across the room to draw the curtains. Sunlight blasted into the bedroom and dazzled Alice’s eyes, the vibrant colours of Kethos dancing before her. The sky was a perfect blue and the sea was a gloriously glassy aquamarine.

Showering quickly and pulling on a pair of beige cotton trousers and a blouse that was still new enough to look white rather than grey, she ventured downstairs, walking into the kitchen and fixing herself a light breakfast of toast and honey. She’d had to make a return journey into Kethos Town the night before to buy provisions for the villa. She’d meant to get them after eating at the taverna but the leaflet for the Villa Argenti had excited her so much that she’d forgotten to go shopping.

Alice had been up a full hour by the time Stella shuffled downstairs. She was wearing a pink satin bathrobe and her blonde hair was newly washed and blow-dried. Alice had noticed the enormous hairdryer and straightening tongs in her sister’s suitcase.

In the spirit of sisterhood, Alice decided to try again and took a deep breath. ‘It’s such a glorious day. Have you changed your mind about a bit of exploring?’

‘I’m going to work on my tan,’ Stella announced.

‘But you’ll be out in the sun if you come with me to this villa. There’s a wonderful garden. We can do a bit of sunbathing there.’

‘It’s not the same. I want to lie about the pool and really relax. You’ve no idea how stressed I’ve been recently,’ she said with a dramatic sigh.

Alice watched as Stella untied her bath robe and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing the skimpiest of bikinis in a metallic gold material that managed to look expensive and cheap at the same time.

‘Put some cream on my back,’ she said, handing Alice a large bottle of coconut-scented sun lotion. ‘Blimey! That’s cold!’ she complained a moment later. ‘Can’t you warm your hands up or something first?’

‘No, I can’t,’ Alice said abruptly, ‘or I’ll be late for the bus. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?’

‘To that boring old villa?’ She made a funny huffing sound and waltzed out through the patio doors onto the terrace and took position on the sun lounger nearest the pool. Alice sighed. She couldn’t believe that they had flown all the way to the Mediterranean and Stella wanted to do nothing more than get a tan. Didn’t she want to see any of the island? Wasn’t she the least bit interested in exploring some of its history and culture? Well, Alice wasn’t going to just sit around, that was for sure.

‘My friends are all going to be so jealous of my tan,’ Stella said, stretching herself out like a cat. ‘You’ll have to get lots of photos of me,’ she said, putting on her very large, very dark sunglasses.

It was such a relief to leave the villa and walk into town. Why did she always let her sister get to her like that? She was twenty-eight years old and she’d had to put up with Stella for all but four of those years – surely she knew what she was like by now. So why did it still hurt her so much?