 
### Ice and Fire

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Promethean Publishing

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © by Hylton Smith 2015

# Chapter 1

London May 2017

Raisa De Marchi was supposed to be enjoying lunch with two of her friends, but she seemed distracted. "Didn't you hear me, Raisa?"

"What? Sorry Belinda, I was far away. Yes, of course I'm looking forward to our vacation. Well, in some respects anyway. Aron is already obsessing about what to pack. He's such a fanny when he has to make decisions which are pretty irrelevant. A blue shirt or a white one. I can't understand how he keeps to the script so well in court when someone's life is at stake."

Deflecting the question in this way got her out from under further cross-examination over the upcoming break to the Greek islands, which was to coincide with her second wedding anniversary. Her real preoccupation was with Aron's latest proposal. They'd always had to lead a public lifestyle which matched his role as a high profile defence QC. However, they each had contrasting motives for wanting to blow away their social bridles every now and again. Raisa was beginning to worry as to what she'd let herself in for.

*

Twenty-One Years Earlier

Bosnia Herzegovina

Her life story started during the atrocities of the ethnic cleansing in her homeland, courtesy of the leader of the former Yugoslavia. But even that tragedy had its roots in the earlier Balkan wars. She was known then as Petra Odz. At the tender age of seven, she cheated death when returning from visiting a friend in her village. Her parents and two older brothers had been incinerated in their own home at the hands of Serbian forces, by fire-spewing tanks. She was found inside the stone house, which was baking hot, but no longer aflame, gabbling incessantly to the vulcanised corpses. She acted as if time itself had been paused, and she was part of that frozen moment.

"Mama, Mama, please Mama, tell me what I must do. How can I help you? Speak to me Mama! Papa, Mama will not speak to me, and I am afraid, I do not know what to do."

She pushed her elder brother's carbonised supine remains in a forlorn plea for some kind of reaction, any kind of reaction. This utterly desperate yet tactile act finally shattered her illusion of bringing them all back. They were no more; they had been her only anchor in a world of incomprehensible butchery. The smell of burned flesh filled her nostrils as the blackened effigy surrendered its adhesion to the floor. Parting from the stone tiles produced a sickening crack and the severed skull rolled away, coming to rest under the table. Suddenly, her drowning fear was laced with rivers of grief, as she imagined her entire family having been silenced in a single moment. She'd seen it before, but these things only happened to other people. She quickly became hysterical, trying to scream, at each of them in turn, berating them for abandoning her. They were but silent, desperate screams.

The carnage in the rest of the village was of such scale and ferocity that it took almost an hour before she was discovered, crouched and shaking incessantly in the darkest corner of what was left of her world. The sight of other living beings finally allowed her to scream aloud, then she was quiet, staring emptily, and pointing at each skeletal member of her family in turn. She had been late for the midday meal, now there was nobody to chastise her.

Petra wasn't alone in being orphaned that day, more than half of the villagers perished in the utterly ruthless drive-through of the death machines. Over the next few days her luck turned fractionally when she was handed over via several partisan groups to UN security forces, and was subsequently transferred to a refugee station. The following three months were a blur for her, culminating in her registration for a child care centre in London. It seemed to be salvation of sorts.

Petra did have her share of physical scars, reminders of her early life, but they paled to insignificance when compared to the mental savagery she suffered for a second time, at the hands of adults she was supposed to trust. She was virtually left to fend for herself, despite having to mix with children whose lives had been derailed by gang culture, drug use, parental cruelty, and a legion of other dysfunctional causes, the consequence of which was an unspoken pecking order in the care home, and its inevitable spawn – bullying. She had a major disadvantage because of her inability to speak English. However, against all reason, Petra somehow refused to buckle, leaning heavily on a tough upbringing within a village dependent upon peasant life. She was more streetwise than her slender frame appeared to suggest, and she had a readiness to kick and scratch rather than comply with threats. She had no friends, but even the bullies eventually gave her a wide berth. The months passed painfully slowly, then completely out of the blue her luck turned once more.

Getting a home placement from such a Victorian hell-hole was unusual, but then so were the needs of Stefano and Bianca De Marchi. Whilst those children considered to be Petra's competition for this placement had overly verbose 'autobiographies', hers was brutally simple, a single, short sentence – 'I am Petra and I don't speak English'.

The potential foster parents were given a sketchy account of the circumstances responsible for Petra being orphaned, and it seemed as if this could become a serious hurdle for them to think about. But there was also some niggling moral aspect tugging at their heartstrings. When confronted with the unabridged version of the massacre and the consequent plight of this little girl, Bianca's reservations crumbled. She'd only just beaten cancer herself and been given a second chance. She held out her hand to Petra, beckoning her to take it. Timidly, Petra approached, her dark, deep brown eyes searching for an explanation. Bianca couldn't hold back the tears as she knelt to embrace the child. She was astonished at the strength of Petra's hug, and the unwillingness to end it.

*

London May 2017

"Yes I know exactly what you mean Raisa," said Deborah. "Men, it's just as well they have a lower abdominal compass which always points them in the right direction. Do you think Aron has any surprises in store for you? Which island are you going to, or are there more than one?"

"No, at least I think it's Skiathos for the entire two weeks. Deborah, when are you going to say my name properly? It's not difficult, is it Belinda? For the hundredth time, it's not 'Raysa' it's 'Ry-eesa'. I wouldn't go on about it but it was my grandmother's name, and it really annoys me when you persist with bloody 'Raysa'. Belinda doesn't seem to have a problem with it." She wasn't going to mention that they weren't going to Skiathos alone.

"Anyway, I need to buy some swimwear and a couple of new dresses. Come on, I want your advice on what's appropriate and what might cause a stir."

*

Aron Sinclair's life had seen no roadblocks in his thirty-two years. As the son of Dexter Sinclair, his life-runway was straight, smooth and wide. Dexter was still practising law, and this was at the heart of Aron's sole objective, to surpass the old man's achievements. At least it had been, until he met Raisa, after which he rediscovered his natural attraction to mischief. He was secretly fed up of walking the line of respectability which came with the job. Raisa fastened on to this very early in the game. She relentlessly encouraged his maverick tendency, while still astutely and constantly reminding him that they could only have the best of both worlds if they truly lived in two different worlds, without any apparent connection.

Aron and Raisa first met at her adoptive father's bike shop, just a few years ago. Aron regularly cycled to his office. It was his sole means of keeping fit. He hated the gym, and the bike got him to work, and he had to go to work every day. Two birds killed with one stone, but he had to have a model sculptured to his rather narcissistic persona, any old bike was just unthinkable.

*

The Post Second World War Era

Stefano's family had emigrated from Italy to England after World War Two. _His_ father, Alberto, did what a lot of Italians did very well, he opened an ice cream parlour. He was also a keen cyclist, and when Stefano came along, he patiently transferred his own passion to his son. Not wanting Stefano to simply inherit the ice cream business, he eventually set him up in a small venture of his own, a cycling emporium. It was what Alberto would have liked to do himself, but as the head of a newly-arrived immigrant family, he felt it was too soon for them to take such a gamble with their savings.

Stefano grew the business slowly and methodically at first, then decided to sell only bespoke bikes for those diehards who took the sport seriously. No two bikes were exactly the same.

Bianca just fell into his lap. She'd heard about the exclusivity of De Marchi models, and as a self-styled champion of a woman's place in a male-dominated sport at the time, she saw an opportunity. In a most unusual twist, Bianca insisted that if she purchased a bike, she would design and paint the frame herself. She was a talented artist and Stefano was amazed at the subtlety of how she brought the bike to life. He immediately offered her employment – bespoke graphic design for bespoke bikes. It was the lightning rod which transformed both the business and their relationship. They married after a short engagement and everything seemed to blossom, until one day Bianca came home from the medical centre and told Stefano she couldn't have children.

"No, no Bianca, there is this very new treatment, IVT. We should register for that."

She brushed away the tears, but only temporarily.

"It's actually IVF Stefano, but I've been thoroughly checked and it's not straightforward. I have a cancer and they need to take away the bad parts, but it means I lose the good parts which are needed to have our baby."

Stefano slumped into a chair, head in hands. He then leaped to his feet just as quickly and pulled her close.

"There are other ways Bianca. We love each other, and that has to be our strength. We're going to see a different doctor tomorrow. We have to get you out of this danger first, and the rest can wait."

It took another two years for her to be told she was in remission. Those reassuring words ignited her curiosity about fostering and then adopting a child.

*

The Autobahn North of Stuttgart May 2017

Klaus and Valerie Becker were trapped in traffic due to a multiple car pile-up. They crawled to the next service station and decided to sit out the delay with a coffee and sandwich. Klaus swung the Porsche Carrera into a parking bay and helped Valerie from the car. She was afflicted with Osteoarthritis in both hips, and she believed it was relentlessly spreading to other parts of her body. Privately, she confessed to ignoring warning signs while in her heyday as the national champion of Germany in the marathon. Her training regimen demanded she ran 80-120 miles in alternate weeks. Her physiotherapist had repeatedly advised her to moderate her compulsion to win a medal in the Rio de Janeiro Olympics in 2016. He insisted that the mileage was far too high and that she should target a shorter event. Valerie brushed this aside and refused to step down to the 5000 metre event. She didn't win, or even finish, dropping out of the race near the end. Her career as an athlete was over.

She hobbled to the table while Klaus went for the refreshment. She cut a sad figure, slightly bent, and giving her a look of being distinctly undernourished. They didn't speak much, preferring to read magazines and overdose on caffeine. Having checked the internet traffic reports several times in the last hour, they finally saw that the motorway was clear again.

"Do you think we will ever get to our hotel tonight, Klaus?"

"It does not really matter Val, I have called them to cancel, and I booked another one which is about two hours from here. We should still make it to Piraeus in time to check in with Kostas before we begin our long-awaited holiday."

Klaus Becker had a thriving business in Koblenz, and dabbled in supplementary activities in the debt-ridden Greek economy. Valerie had never been interested in money other than for covering the necessities. Her athletic career had embedded the well-hackneyed phrase 'no pain, no gain' into her psyche. Klaus had supported her all the way, but with the onset of such a debilitating condition, things hadn't been going so well recently. They had talked the situation to death and come to an agreement.

*

The Heel of Italy May 2017

The lavish ten-berth ocean cruiser was just beginning to struggle with the onset of rough weather. Jean Vermont decided that they should head for land. He scanned the charts and pointed to their destination for the evening.

"We will head for the Marina Di Leuca, Rolf. I know the guys there and it is a perfect shelter from these brewing storms. The town itself is small but quite lively, and it does not take us too far off our course."

"Cool," said Rolf, "my guts are starting to play up. How long do you think it will be before we can disembark from this stupid boat then?"

"At this speed, I would have to make a guess, maybe about three hours, maybe a little less."

"Shit," complained Rolf, "I will be very sick before we get there. Can I take control at the wheel and you study the charts as we go? It can help keep my eyes on the horizon."

Jean Vermont could best be described as a playboy. His father was the founder of a green energy company which had thrived amongst all of the confusion surrounding global warming. Jean had neither the desire nor the capability to succeed his father. He was deemed to be a liability which was best farmed out to anywhere or anything, as long as he couldn't bring adverse publicity to the company. It was a hefty price just to indulge a wayward son, but his father simply considered it as an insurance premium.

Rolf Pirez worked for Jean as a general handyman. However, having known him since they were at school, Jean had other requirements of his friend. Rolf was everything Jean wanted to be, except to be poor. Jean was short, with almost no neck. A heavy stomach and a ridiculously upturned nose made him look like a pig in a suit, even when he wasn't wearing a suit. In sharp contrast Rolf was tall, and broad-shouldered, but lithe. His perennially unkempt shoulder-length blond hair added to his appeal. His ready smile and laid back attitude to life was complemented by a distinct but gravelly voice. He stood out in a room, any room, whether he talked or not. This was something in Jean's mind that money couldn't buy. He felt lucky to have Rolf as a friend. Rolf felt it had been an eternity since they left Marseille with only Jean for company.

# Chapter 2

Austria May 2017

The Porsche pulled into the Hotel Bristol car park. Salzburg was one of Valerie Becker's favourite cities. Her face lit up as she remembered the opulence of this five star residence. Even more exciting was the proximity to the Mozarteum, Mirabelle Palace, and St. Sebastian church.

"What a fantastic surprise, Klaus. Let us eat out and walk until I am exhausted. It may help me sleep through the pain. Can we book to stay here on our way back to Koblenz?"

Klaus dropped the luggage on to a porter's trolley near the check-in counter.

"I thought you would be pleased. Ok, you go ahead to the elevator. The suite is on the top floor. Just wait for me there until I make the reservation for our return journey."

The elevator typified the class of this establishment, refined, silent, and betraying no feeling of movement. Klaus watched the floor indicator sign, and when it halted at the uppermost level he returned to the front desk. The rather officious receptionist indicated which rooms were available to him on the specified return date. Klaus thanked him, made a note of the various options, folded it, and slid it into his jacket pocket.

"Thanks," he gestured to the receptionist, "I will have to think about it."

He took a seat in one of the ornate wing chairs in the lobby, and pulled out his mobile phone. The number kept on ringing then abruptly went to voicemail. He was becoming impatient with the tediously long recorded message, in Greek, from Kostas. He finally heard the beep and said, "Hi Kostas, it is Klaus here, sorry but there has to be a slight change of plan. I think we can only spare an hour or so to talk when we get there. The traffic is really bad. I know I said we needed to discuss all makes, but that is no longer required. So, if you can have the latest lists, with only top end Mercedes and Audi, ready for my arrival that would be much appreciated. Thank you."

Valerie was leaning out of the corridor window, taking in the pedestrian throng, which took on the mantle of a meandering river in the embers of the setting sun. When the elevator door pinged and then opened, Klaus shouted at her.

"Jesus Christ, Val, be careful. Your feet are not touching the floor. Come on, if we are eating out we need to take a quick shower and go."

"Yes, I know that. I could hardly resist a little bit of people-watching from this wonderful vantage point. Did you manage to get a reservation for our return trip?"

"Yes, after a lot of haggling, and we can have the same suite. I am really hungry now; maybe some veal with blue cheese sauce and some never-before-tried chateau red?"

"Oh, stop it! Let me go, my juices are gurgling."

*

London May 2017

Stefano and Bianca couldn't agree about the projected itinerary. Stefano was unconcerned because he felt it had all been agreed weeks ago. Bianca said he was naïve, and he surprisingly reacted by shouting at her.

"Bianca, if you felt like this why the hell didn't you bring it up when we booked the flights. We were _invited_ to go, remember?"

"Of course, all I'm saying is that Raisa and Aron need more time on their own. Didn't you notice that she was much more enthusiastic than he was for us to be going with them? He was happy when I said we would spend a couple of days on our own, on the neighbouring island of Skopelos. He seems to want more time for just the two of them. We don't want to be hanging about like gooseberries, do we?"

"Look, as I just said we didn't invite ourselves. Our daughter almost pleaded with us to join them. What's made you bring this up at the last minute?"

"You've just answered your own question. Raisa invited us, and yes, she verged on insisting that we went. It bothered me at the time but I let it pass. Then I noticed that Aron has grown less enthusiastic about the holiday every time it comes up in conversation. I think they may be having problems. They've only been married two years, and even if we keep out of the way for the actual anniversary itself, it doesn't sit right."

"Bianca, even if you're right, they'll see it as nothing less than meddling if you bring it up with them. Why do you always interfere like this? We've paid for the trip, given notice to our customers that our shop is closed for two weeks, and told Raisa we're going. I hear what you say, and it actually makes me feel that we _should_ be there if they aren't getting on so well together. Let's just go with the flow and see how things turn out."

"Well, ok then, but let's think about staying on Skopelos for a few more days if things seem to be a bit awkward. It's only a short ferry ride away."

"Right, so can we now get the damned shop secured? It's an early flight tomorrow and we haven't even started the packing."

The uneasy truce prevailed and yet Bianca was still puzzled as to why Raisa didn't want to be on vacation accompanied only by her husband.

*

Southern Italy May 2017

The ocean cruiser was guided to its mooring by the harbour tender as well as by radio communication. It was a very expensive craft and they couldn't afford any mistakes in such a violent storm. Jean Vermont's face finally summoned a smile when the last of the ropes were fastened. The two of them couldn't wait to get on to terra firma again, even though they had to readjust their legs after the buffeting of the last few hours. Rolf's first priority was to find the toilet, while Jean gave the harbour boys a generous tip, and asked them to recommend a good hotel. He didn't want to suggest to Rolf that they should sleep on the cruiser, having been told that the weather was actually going to get worse.

They hopped into a taxi and gave the driver the piece of paper with the hotel name scribbled almost indecipherably across the top. A little colour had begun to re-emerge into Rolf's grey cheeks as the taxi pulled up in the arched driveway of the Hotel President Di Leuca. A couple of porters appeared out of nowhere as Jean paid the taxi driver, and they beckoned the two guests to follow as they scampered into reception with the luggage.

Having dumped their stuff in their single rooms, Jean knocked on his friend's door.

"The menu looks good, how are you feeling, mon ami?"

Rolf shook his head. "There seems to be a dress code for the restaurant. I do not want a fancy meal. Anyway, I would prefer not to change clothes just for a snack. Listen, Jean, if you want a slap-up feed, go ahead, I can just wander out and find a pizzeria or something simple."

"No, we should eat together, I can go for Italian as well. See you in reception after I take a shower, about ten minutes?"

"Sounds good to me."

They strolled around for almost half an hour before settling for a restaurant, one with an additional bonus of a casino right next door.

They found a corner table and were handed the a la carte list. Jean shook his head and studied the fast food menu while Rolf just wanted to get on with eating to help settle his stomach. The waiter hovered over them and Rolf responded.

"A beer for me, please, and pizza calzone, and what do you want, Jean?"

"Red wine, half carafe of house red and...well, tortellini with cream sauce. Oh, and bread, lots of bread."

The hot food helped them to forget the traumatic last couple of hours at sea. Rolf asked for another beer and noticed the occupants of a table in the opposite corner. There were two couples, probably under thirty, making very loud conversation. One of the women glanced at him and looked away quickly. It happened again, several times, and he knew it wasn't random eye contact. They were Italian, that much he could tell from hearing them talking. Jean had demolished a pile of bread, using the last piece to clean his plate, mopping up the remaining cream sauce.

"Not bad, Rolf. I mean you get what you pay for. Do you agree?"

"Do you really believe that crap? You know, Jean, it is no surprise you are so overweight. No matter where you eat, you stuff yourself with bread and rich sauces. I think you just change what goes with those two cravings, and you never exercise to burn any of it away. I would say you are a heart attack waiting to go 'bang'. Anyway, enough of my preaching, are we going to the casino?"

"Sure, I should ask for, what is it in the local language? You know, the bill?"

"Just give the waiter a shout, while waving some money. We have plenty of time for you to practice in speaking with the locals when we get to your own hotel, and that would be in Greek, not Italian."

The waiter could hardly believe the tip he got, his grovelling became a bit embarrassing and Rolf hated this side of his friend's nature, a kind of cultivation of subservience. They were almost blown into the road as they left, having temporarily forgotten about the gales, which were definitely getting worse. A quick left and left again and they were in the casino.

Jean changed a thousand euros to begin the evening slowly, dividing the chips equally between them. He liked the relatively instant result of roulette, whereas Rolf preferred the cerebral brinkmanship of poker.

# Chapter 3

Landing in Skiathos

A wave of sultry heat greeted them as the forward cabin door opened. Skiathos Town had been built and grown around the gently curving harbour. It was literally less than a mile away. Having recovered all of the luggage successfully, they hailed one of the awaiting taxis and asked the driver to take them to Hotel Paradiso.

"Ah, the new one, it is very beautiful, I hope you will enjoy. I give you my card if you want to go for trips around the island. I give you good price every time."

They thanked him as he unloaded the bags and beckoned a porter from the hotel. He beamed as Aron pressed a decent tip into his palm, and reminded them of his availability. "Just call me anytime, I will come."

Aron stood back from the opulent entrance and declared that the choice of residence was even better than he had expected. "I think I'm going to enjoy this break, the town is very pretty and there seems to be lots going on. Let's get settled and take a stroll for a cold beer or something."

Raisa seemed indifferent to this suggestion, but Stefano and Bianca readily agreed. Their executive suites did not disappoint. On the top floor they had magnificent views over the entire resort. The hotel was perched on one of the highest points in town, facing the harbour, ferry terminal, and the old church, which was set upon the highest point of its own little 'islet'. Raisa's apathy abated, at least for now, as she changed into shorts and a loose-fitting sleeveless top. Aron was waiting impatiently for her to decide which sandals would match up well with the pink of the rest of her 'ensemble'.

"Your parents are waiting, Raisa, come on let's just forget about fashion for once. This is a laid back island, and it will be even more laid bare on Banana beach."

Her stomach churned. "Oh, do you still expect me to go through with this? My mother and father can't see me in the nude. We shouldn't take them to that beach. We can wait until they go to Skopelos for a couple of days."

"You invited them, even though we'd talked this through time and again. We should tell them the truth, and then they can go their own way during the day. We can always meet them in the evening. I only agreed to pay for their holiday on the understanding that we would have time on our own to test out the agreement. I hope you aren't trying to wriggle out of your promise. We have to confront this issue."

"Yes, I know that. It just preys on my mind a bit. I suppose I was stupid to ask them to come with us. I'm so confused. You keep reminding me of what I said, but I'm still confused. Right, we should go for that drink and we can talk about this later."

Once they had chosen a shaded bar by the side of the harbour and ordered a drink, Aron sprawled in his chair, put his hands behind his head and asked the in-laws what they wanted to do for the rest of the afternoon. Blank looks gave him the lead in he wanted.

"We are going to try out a beach at the other side of the island. It's a nudist beach and it might not suit you, but there's another one nearby which is supposedly the most picturesque on Skiathos. How about it?"

Raisa squirmed, Bianca looked away while suppressing the urge to burst out laughing, and Stefano began stuttering in his rusty Italian. He then switched back to English. "We were discussing this yesterday, and Bianca wants to visit Skopelos. We were going to wait for a few days but I like the look of the ferry trip. Maybe we could do that while you two lie in the sun. We aren't really beach people anyway."

Bianca threw a spanner in the works.

"Speak for yourself, Stefano. I like to swim in the sea rather than the pool. I think we should be open-minded rather than prudish about being au naturel. Skopelos can wait."

"Great." lied Aron. "I really like the idea of swimming in the warm Med, free of society's judgemental constraints. The fact that other people may be standing or lying around exposing their parts is of no real consequence to me. Anyway, I hate tan lines, don't you agree, Raisa?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so, it's not like we'll know anyone on the beach. And after all, we're on vacation to chill out. However, I might be a bit embarrassed being naked in front of Mum and Dad."

The cocktail of tension and mirth hung about until Stefano burst the bubble.

"I'm certainly not a prude, Bianca, but I agree with Raisa. She's my daughter and it can't be right for me to see her walking around naked. We can leave Skopelos until tomorrow, but I can go to the other beach, so that I'm not spoiling the party."

Bianca nodded and turned to Aron.

"It's agreed then. Stefano goes on his own and the three of us go to the nudist beach." Raisa and Aron looked at each other and nodded unconvincingly. Stefano was lost for words.

*

Piraeus

The same oppressive heat hung over the port of Athens, almost nullifying the air conditioning in the Porsche. Klaus was glad to see Kostas waiting outside his office. They dispensed with formalities and the awaiting taxi took them to a cool taverna. Iced tea and a fresh salad were recommended and ordered by Kostas without even consulting the menu. Valerie hated these seemingly pointless meetings as she had no interest in discussing cars, or even how much money Klaus made in his dealings with his Greek friend. She knew the format, the two men would now go back to the office and she would sit in the shade sipping chilled orange juice until they returned. She hadn't put on much weight since the onset of her arthritis, and although she was concerned that it would ultimately lead to a more rounded, fuller figure, she appreciated the extra cushioning it provided when sitting in the same position for long periods.

Kostas had the list of vehicles requested by Klaus. There was discernible disappointment brewing, judging by the reaction. "Is this it? Not so much a list as a sentence. Do you think the bailout crisis is the only factor at play here?"

"Yes, I am afraid so, Klaus. It is the uncertainty. Even the banks do not know what the hell is going on. I was going to speak to you about this last month but I thought it was better to avoid telephone calls, you never know. I may have to pull out of our arrangement. The clowns in our government are looking at everything, turning over stones they did not even know were there. At the very least we should take a break. I have had the showroom windows smashed in twice in the last few days. People are reacting to any sign of profiteering when they are suffering such austerity all over again."

"Ok, my friend, we can forget this piece of paper, and do as you say. Put the lid on everything for now. Back in Germany, there are also demonstrations about forking out more money for Greece. They see it as lending you money to pay back what you already owe, even though you can never generate that amount from your economy. I will need to speak to you again in a couple of months. We should head off to the ferry now. It is bad news but I must think about it more carefully, just as well we are on vacation. I really need to consider how to replace this shortfall in liquidity."

"Where are you headed?"

"A few of the islands around Greece, at least that was the plan, but in view of our conversation that may have to become island – singular."

Valerie was pleasantly surprised to see them again so soon. Kostas explained the best route to the ferry terminal and wished them well. Klaus broke the news that they should stay in one location so that he could make some calls. "We can island-hop next time. Where would you like to go? It's only fair that you choose."

*

The Casino

Rolf noticed that most of the tables were empty now. People were gravitating to the roulette wheel. He'd lost a few euros, and was still feeling a little nauseous. It wasn't the best shape to be in when playing poker. He walked over to the roulette table and saw that Jean had amassed a lot of winnings, hence the commotion. He also spotted the two couples from the restaurant and again his eyes met with those of the same woman. He finally pushed through the throng and suggested Jean should quit while he was so far ahead. He also knew this was futile. His friend was in it for the buzz, not the money. Rolf said he needed to find the toilet and wandered off toward a set of double doors.

Standing at the urinal, he heard the men's room door swing open, and as he turned while zipping up, he was startled, and responded in French.

" _Jesus, what the hell are you doing? This one is for gentlemen, can't you read?"_

The woman was unimpressed, replying in Italian.

" _Nobody will come in. There is a guard at the door to make sure. You are French, you have a boat and you are staying at the hotel. For how long?"_

Rolf wasn't fluent in Italian but could get by. _"Why is that any of your business? And how do you know anyway?"_

" _My boyfriend owns this casino, the hotel and many other things in this town. You spoke in French, so that was a clue, but we checked your passports to be sure."_

" _Look, we do not want any trouble, we are leaving tomorrow if the weather improves. We would not even be here if the storms did not force us to find shelter."_

" _Your friend has set off a few alarm bells by winning so much. Gianluca is very sensitive to this. We have frequent visits from undercover government people. That can be a problem. Gianluca sent me to find out everything I can about you, even if that means visiting your room tonight. It would be much easier for both of us if you just tell me all about both you and your friend. If you walk out of here in less than ten minutes you might regret it. So, tell me about your companion."_

" _What kind of boyfriend would use you like this? Has he no respect for you?"_

" _Look, you do not know this town, this is just how it works. You would never understand any of it. I have fucked all kinds of fat, greasy bastards because it is my work. Some of them were as ugly as your friend. Some of them are dead. Experience tells me that you are telling me the truth about leaving tomorrow. The little fat guy may be the problem. He has been placing very high bets and winning. Who is he?"_

" _He is the son of a very wealthy man. Just in case you get the wrong idea, there have been attempts to kidnap him for ransom, all of them unsuccessful. His father also has an 'entourage', much more powerful than this Mickey Mouse town could ever imagine. So, you also need to tread carefully. Look, I will talk to him, he does not care a shit about the money. He always loses in the end. Does that help?"_

" _Maybe. Do you want to step into a cubicle?_

" _Look, I have already said I do not want trouble, you are trouble. Let us just go, and you speak to your boyfriend while I get Jean to waste some of his winnings."_

" _I am trying to help you. If I tell Gianluca that I let you feel me up to get you to agree to fatso losing lots of money, he will be ok. He is driven by power, even over me. He quite likes me to use my body to extract information for him. Get in the cubicle, no fucking, you can use your tongue, you seem to be pretty good at that."_

" _Just tell him what you want. In a different situation you would not have to persuade me, but on the other hand I respect your advice. Let's go back to the roulette and get this over with."_

" _I only suggested the cubicle because Gianluca believes every man is prone to thinking with his penis when presented with such an unexpected opportunity. I guessed that you were a bit different. How about a little lipstick on your face? Gianluca is so full of himself, he will go for that. Believe me, I know him. He must think I have followed his orders."_

She kissed him on the mouth and rubbed most of the evidence off, then winked and accompanied Rolf back to the table, whispering in Gianluca's ear. A sickly smile from the casino boss preceded a glance in Jean's direction, and a nod of the head. Rolf had to handle his conversation with his friend with delicacy. He decided to ask for half of the pile of money so that he could join in the fun. It didn't take long for two losers to squander the winnings.

# Chapter 4

Banana Beach

Stefano had relented; well, 'compromised' would cover his volte-face more accurately. However, he was still reluctant to concede to a study of other people's anatomy. He rolled out his towel at the far end of the cove where sunbathers were clothed. The rest of the white sand was populated with all manner of nudist activity. Volleyball, telling stories while facing one another in a circle of genitalia, lovers whose modesty was being severely challenged, and voyeuristic jaywalking with extremely dark shades, to name but a few. Aron surveyed the beach for a suitable spot as far away from Stefano as possible. Bianca's smile caused Raisa to giggle, then their resistance became futile, they couldn't suppress the urge to run straight into the water, where they could laugh out loud without attracting undue attention.

Once the intensity of their giddiness ebbed away, Raisa began to apologise to her mother.

"It was all Aron's idea. We've been..."

"Don't worry about my sensitivities, darling. This is the most exciting thing I've done in the last ten years. Aron was right about swimming in the nude, it's absolutely exhilarating. Do you think I should put my swimsuit back on? You know, when we lie on the beach to dry off? I've seen quite a few women who look older than I am."

"I don't know what the hell I think, other than I can feel a lot of eyes probing me. Aron still has his shorts on, are you going to be able to keep a straight face when he takes them off? I don't know if I could do that if Dad came wandering along with nothing on."

"You'd better prepare me, Raisa. I suppose I shouldn't stare or pretend to look away. Oh, what the hell does it matter anyway? He'll probably go straight into the water, so I should be able to keep calm while he walks to the sea."

"Well, it's difficult to put it any other way, Aron hasn't got anything to write home about, I can tell you that, Mum. He's certainly no Adonis. Bloody hell, why are we discussing my husband's bits and pieces? Anyway, I'm becoming more relaxed about this than I thought I would be. Oh no! I spoke too soon, here comes Dad on his way along toward us. He must have felt left out."

Aron flexed his muscles, dropped his shorts and ran full tilt into the sea. He swam energetically for a few minutes then flipped on to his back, and floated effortlessly as he burst into song. 'I'm in heaven...."

Raisa and her mother were too embarrassed to return his wave but couldn't stall another laughing fit. It got worse as he waded back to the beach. Even though the water temperature in the shallows was pleasantly warm, at swimming depth it was a few degrees cooler, and had a tendency to shrivel one's assets. Aron glanced down and felt disappointment that his emergence from the clear, turquoise backdrop was such a non-event. He'd somehow got it into his head that he might have the reverse problem of parading a more eye-catching semi. He couldn't blame a lack of young flesh on the beach for the ruin of his 'here I am' moment. He wished he could rewind and avoid such a shrinking violet episode. There was always tomorrow. When he reached his towel he flapped down on his front as quickly as he could. Stefano blinked, and blinked again just to make sure he wasn't suffering blurred vision. Aron had made sure he'd had a back wax before they left home, but hadn't given too much thought to his arse, which was patchy, like a badly seeded lawn. The women noticed the expression of distaste on Stefano's face, then followed his gaze to the hirsute posterior of the main attraction. Bianca quickly asked if anyone fancied an ice cream and hurriedly shot off to the kiosk. Raisa declared that she'd help her mum to carry the cones, leaving her father to chat with Aron. It was one of those moments when things couldn't really get worse. Stefano yielded to the next phase, removing his cropped trousers and boxers in one dextrous Full Monty manoeuvre, to reveal the wolf which was now free from its sheep's clothing. Aron turned over to receive his cornet with its protruding flake, just as Stefano stood up. Bianca merely said, "Oh you decided to join us then."

Raisa had to cover her eyes, dropping Aron's rum and raisin into the sand as she silently mouthed, 'OMG....'

Aron decided to go for a replacement cornet, unaware that clumps of wet sand had stuck to his anal beard. He licked his ice cream, quite oblivious that he had become the focus of widespread attention. The others pretended they had just met him.

*

Ferry across the Med

Valerie protested at the ridiculously short notice that they had to choose just one island for their entire vacation. She shut her eyes and plonked her index finger on to the map.

"Skiathos. That is it then, Klaus. Go and get the tickets."

"I asked you choose, Val, not stick a pin in the whole of the Med. The place could be uninhabited as far as we know."

"Actually, I stuck my finger in the eastern Mediterranean. And, I have actually heard that Skiathos is a very nice place. Just get the damned tickets and we can book a hotel when we get there. Where is your Deutsch sense of adventure?"

He trundled off. A good fifteen minutes had passed and Valerie was about to call his mobile when he reappeared, sporting one of those 'I've got us out of the shit again' smiles.

"Where the hell have you been? Leaving me trapped in this hog roast of a car, with the temperature over 35 degrees Celsius. You know I need you to help me out of the bloody thing. Why are you grinning like that?"

"I asked some officer about this Skiathos place and he told me it is next to another island called Skopelos. You know, that is where they filmed the Mama Mia movie. I also asked him about hotels and he recommended a brand new exclusive one, he said it really is classy. He has arranged for us to speak with the ferry captain, so that he can call ahead and book us in once we are on our way."

"So, you managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory again, Klaus. I quite liked the idea of unpredictability for once. It would have been nice to just drive around and book something we liked the look of, not to just fall in with the recommendation of someone we never met before. I will be very unhappy if it is a shitty modern place with no character."

"There is absolutely no pleasing you nowadays, Valerie. The whole island could be crap, yet you must never be criticised for lazily plucking it out of the air. Come on, we need to get the damned car on to the ferry."

The journey was surprisingly pleasant. The lido deck had comfortable seats on both sides and the sea breeze was very welcome. As was the heavily chilled beer. Pulling into Skiathos harbour brought a smile to both of them, and a temporary truce flowed through their sinews. "Not totally crap then. Even you must admit that, Klaus?"

"Quite the opposite, it looks great, so please indulge me for once. We can check out the hotel I was recommended and if it fails to impress you, we can move on, do we have a deal?"

"Ok, do you know exactly where it is?"

"Turn around, darling, it seems to be up there all by itself, alone on the crest of that hill. See it? The Paradiso."

*

Eastward Bound

Rolf was quite relieved to be woken by sunshine streaming through the inadequate window blinds. He looked toward the marina and saw that the flags were hardly fluttering. He was even more content that he'd had no nocturnal visitors. He hadn't bothered to mention his restroom chat with the Siren from the casino to Jean, thinking that the risk of him not getting on too well with Gianluca was too great.

Still, he wasn't counting his chickens, and didn't fully relax until they had clear water and no sight of land.

"You know, Rolf, I was almost ten thousand euros up when you broke my run of luck by asking for half of my winnings. It all went south after that. I ended up with a couple of hundred more than I started with, while you managed to waste the rest. They changed the steel ball when you came to the table. I did not like the man who was spinning the wheel, he seemed to be taking orders from that flashy guy who we saw in the restaurant, the one sitting with that babe with the fantastic rack. Do you reckon I could have got an escort like her if I had quit with the ten grand?"

"Jean, the babe with the rack works for the flashy guy, who just happens to own the casino. He was probably giving the croupier a hard time because you were winning so much."

"I bloody knew something was up. That must be why they changed the roulette ball. I should have said something."

"That would have been really stupid, not smart. If you had kept on your winning streak there would surely have been trouble. Forget it. Now, where is it we're heading again?"

"Forget it! Like hell, that casino owner is so bent that if he swallowed a nail he would shit it out as a corkscrew. I will make sure I have a word with the bastard on the way back."

"No, we will not be calling there again. Now, one of the smaller Greek islands, is it? Scaphos or something?"

"Rolf, you really are a philistine sometimes. Skiathos is a small island with a big reputation. You will not be disappointed, I guarantee that. It will suit both of us. Although I expect you may need to pull us a couple of classy women."

"Finding two females who are so different that they would match up with us is a pretty tall order, Jean. We might be aiming a bit high if you insist on them being classy. Can we not just enjoy the break? You can always go to a bordello if you get to the point where your urge to rut gets the better of you. Right, let's plot the course."

The journey was pretty uneventful but longer than anticipated. At least the weather held and their mooring was ready. They decided to lock up the boat and head straight for the hotel to freshen up, leaving most of their belongings until the next day.

The taxi pulled up at the entrance to the Paradiso and Jean couldn't resist handing out yet another inflated tip, adding, "Tell every tourist you pick up about this place, it is fantastic, the best on this island."

The driver was stunned but felt obliged to run to the door to usher the two guests in. Jean checked his gesture. "No, no my friend, someone in the hotel has to watch for the new arrivals and get their arse out here to greet us."

"I not understanding you, sir. I will thank you again for gratuity. Good holiday to both of you."

As the taxi sped out of the grounds Jean turned to Rolf.

"Well Amigo, what do you think?"

"For once you have understated something. Wow, it is just unbelievable. Let me get showered before we look around."

"You go ahead, I need to do the rounds with my staff. You have to crack the whip every now and again. Rolf, stop looking at me with such disapproval. Where is your entente cordiale?"

# Chapter 5

The Riddle of Skopelos

Time was of the essence, they'd agreed to meet Stefano and Bianca for aperitifs or cocktails, but they hadn't even showered yet.

"I have to say, Raisa, Stefano is a surprise package! Oh, I didn't mean it like that... but then again, why not? I'd say he was right at the top of the _pecking_ order on _Banana_ beach, wouldn't you? Way to go, Stef."

"Shut it, Aron, have some respect for my father."

"Respect is what I'm giving him, and maybe a little envy. It was like the proverbial baby's arm with an apple in its hand. I've read about surgical enhancement, I should look into it. Maybe your invitation for them to join us on holiday wasn't such a bad idea after all."

"Why the hell are you so obsessed with size? A woman does look for other qualities, not just physical attributes. Anyway, you've now got a puzzle to solve, haven't you? I can't possibly continue with your request now that they both seem so happy to join us on your precious nudist beach."

"Whoa there, you seem to forget I earn my corn in the legal profession. We had an agreement, not a request. One is binding, the other is fuzzy and ill-defined. You don't get off the hook as easy as that."

"Well, if that's how it is, you have to get them to go to Skopelos. New circumstances cannot be ignored, and I flatly refuse to involve my parents in your sad little scheme. Over to you, darling. Hey, look at the time. I should get showered first. It might give you time to think about how to get rid of Mum and Dad for a few days."

Aron flopped on to the sumptuous bed and looked at his wife as she undressed. It occurred to him that he'd already seen her naked more in the last few hours than he had in the previous few months. Sun, sea, and sand were part of the tapestry, and he wasn't about to give up easily. His gaze lingered over her form. She was as tall as he was, five feet ten, even without heels. Lithe of build, acutely narrow at the waist, and with generous but perky breasts, imperceptibly swaying as she walked elegantly about the room. Turning towards him before closing the en-suite door, her Brazilian landing strip attracted his eye.

"We need to hurry, Aron. We have to meet up with them in less than half an hour. Could you get my navy blue dress out of the wardrobe and lay it carefully on the bed? I think it's too hot for stockings."

He reflected on how they first met, and how things hadn't quite lived up to his dreams. It had started so well but they had been blown off course by routine, and the never ending legalese duties of his work. They had come to the right place for their rebellious genes to mesh once more.

Descending the ornate staircase, Raisa nudged Aron in the ribs and nodded to the exquisitely crafted marble floor in reception. Stefano was in smart trousers and a pristine short-sleeved white shirt. Bianca's willowy black dress was not designed with modesty in mind. Even from the stairs it was obvious that she was braless. Not actually see-through, but mildly exhibitionist.

"Bloody hell," said Aron, "do you think they still, you know..."

"Aron, do you ever think about anything else? Isn't there a pressing murder case or something trying to push its way to the front of the queue in your perverted brain? Just for my benefit, please don't have too much plonk before dinner. You know it makes you run off at the mouth."

"You mean like saying your mother has nice tits?"

"Exactly. But, then I suppose she does, doesn't she? No need to answer that. I keep forgetting her battle with cancer, but I never realised how that might have made her disregard certain 'hypocritical taboos'."

"Well, actually that's precisely what I was saying. Good for her. Now, I fancy a cocktail. You've never tried 'sex on the beach' have you? Or would you prefer a boring aperitif? Because of course, one should ostensibly opt for a traditional pre-dinner dry sherry."

*

Anglo Saxon Bravado

Despite Klaus Becker knowing what was best for his infirmed wife, Valerie dismissed the notion of eating in the hotel. She assured him that the cobbles would be no problem, and she preferred atmosphere over etiquette. They found a shady outdoor table in an appealing restaurant on the main street. Valerie ordered a half carafe of house white and some fizzy water, then pointed at Klaus. After a respectable period of deliberation he requested an ouzo without water, and a small dish of olives.

They were about to choose the first course when the awesome foursome alighted. It was a bit of a crush, as the tables were almost adjoining. Aron asked Klaus if he was comfortable with such a cosy seating arrangement. Valerie pre-empted her husband, replying in accented English. "Please do, it is good to meet with new people, even better if they are not from the same country."

Aron remarked that he appreciated such a refreshing ice-breaker, and politely thanked her. The restaurant was now almost full, and with quite a lot of locals in the mix, it became noisy and animated. The beef stifado was very popular, and very attractively presented. Stefano asked Klaus Becker where they lived.

"Germany, near Koblenz. And you?"

"From London," replied Bianca, "and it's really good to get away for a while. Did you fly from Dusseldorf?"

"Actually, we came by car. I had to call at Piraeus on the way, and we like to take our own time to travel. We try to avoid all the security bullshit at airports."

Aron joined in. "That reminds me, we need to get a hire car so we can explore the island at our leisure."

"I may be able to help you there. My contact in Piraeus is in the automobile business. I can call him from our hotel when we get back. Where are you staying?"

"The Paradiso, it's just up the..."

"I know, we are there too. Nice place isn't it? Brand new apparently. We were lucky to get a top floor suite," said Klaus, causing Valerie to cringe.

"Snap," replied Aron.

"Excuse me? What is that?"

Raisa intervened. "My husband often speaks in Morse code. He means that we also have suites on the top level. Fabulous views over the sea. Are you staying long?"

Valerie wasn't going to let Klaus answer this one. "We don't have a plan as such, except for a reservation in Salzburg on the way back. I cannot remember exactly when that is."

A hiatus ensued as the waiter took more food orders from both tables. Aron noticed that Klaus kept squinting at Bianca's back. The German was obviously intrigued by the implication that there was no bra. He smiled and realised his own loins were stirring, as, unlike Klaus, he was facing his mother-in-law. Feeling slightly ashamed he went to the indoor toilet. As he relieved the pressure of alcohol in his bladder and consequently decorated the porcelain, he looked at what he held between his thumb and forefinger, and contemplated the issue of Skopelos. Raisa was right, he had to think outside the box. Maybe if all four of them went there on the ferry and then he revealed that he'd booked Stefano and Bianca into a romantic guest house as a special surprise, they couldn't refuse such a considerate gesture. It needed refinement, but it was a start.

The conversation continued to follow the same pattern, with Klaus and Aron continually jousting for the high ground. The German was finally manoeuvred into a flippant declaration that Aron must work for the British secret service.

"Not at all, I've been rather remiss, I should have mentioned that I'm a criminal lawyer. That's how I know how governments operate. They create laws and then try to figure out ways around them when it suits. Well, it looks like everyone is ready to go. Shall we walk back to the Paradiso and you can make that call to Piraeus? It's very good of you to go out of your way to help us. I think we need a big vehicle with 4 wheel drive. Why do you think your pal in mainland Greece can have influence here?"

"Let me tell you later. I might be wrong, maybe he cannot, but it is worth a try. I shall call from our room and meet you in the ballroom if that is ok?"

"Sure, I'm really in the mood for a bit of break dancing."

*

Garlic and Sundance

Jean and Rolf were already seated in the cocktail lounge, which was an adjunct of the ballroom. The lecture wasn't likely to succeed, but Rolf felt he had to give it and then forget about it.

"You own the hotel, Jean. You do not own the people who work in it. You pay managers to run the place. You have the privileged opportunity to make them want to work for you. Become a motivator instead of running around continually, stinging people with your fat tongue. To emphasise what I am trying to say let me put it this way. If you were unable to flush a shit away after breakfast, you would avoid making it into a public issue in reception, or would you? A concise note with your room number would suffice. They say that the devil is in the detail, but that is surely just for other people, not for the owner. You have to promote respect, yes, even you have that obligation, Jean. Already you have managed to upset the chef by walking into the kitchen spouting all manner of advice on how he should have the napkins folded. And you delivered a scathing public criticism of the deputy manager because his white shirt cuffs were invisible; his jacket sleeves were too long, but he did not make the jacket himself. I see that you are not protesting, so that is the sermon over. I am going to have Tequila Sunrise, what do you want?"

"I may have the same, but first I have to tell the bandleader to get the tempo of the music up. Everybody is just sitting on their arse."

"Oh, right, I forgot to mention that. Why do I waste my breath?"

Rolf waived for a waiter, ordered the drinks and signed for them. He was about to savour the salty blend of tequila and orange juice when he saw Jean had actually taken the microphone and was about to speak. 'Oh no, what the hell is he going to do now? I think I need both of these cocktails'.

"Hello everybody and welcome to the Paradiso. I hope you will have a wonderful holiday. My name is Jean Vermont. You do not know me but I am in fact the hotel proprietor. The hotel is new and I want it to be a perfect experience for all of our guests. I am interested to hear any suggestions you may have, so please do not hesitate to speak with me at any time. I have already had one request, and that is to change the music to get us all in the mood for dancing. So, the band will now try to get as many of you as possible on to the floor. After all, it is a ballroom, not a church. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Thank you very much."

Rolf stood up to intercept Jean, who sported a beaming smile as he began to weave his way back to the table.

"If you are staying here you are on your own."

"What the hell is wrong with you now? I just did as you said, you know, tell people that I will listen to them."

"No, no, I said you should let people, your people do their job. You, my friend, are paying them to run the place. What you have just done is to alienate them and invite a free for all for the guests. You could now be plagued with hangers-on and freeloaders. You are not going to have a moment to yourself. Look, there is already a queue forming behind you, as we speak. I have to get out of here. See you tomorrow."

"But, listen, I... uh, Yes madam, what can I do for you?"

As Rolf headed for the exit, he crossed paths with the returning party of Anglo-Saxons. He stood back to let them pass and nodded acknowledgement to each of them who thanked him for being so polite. His gaze lingered on Raisa, who smiled, but said nothing. Well, no words passed her lips, but he detected some reaction in her eyes.

# Chapter 6

The Lowest Common Denominator

Opening a new hotel without any prior experience, laundering money, or consciously risking one's marriage, wouldn't be expected to form the basis for even the most fleeting friendship. However, any change in the dynamic of one characteristic could, in theory, catalyse change in the status quo of another. Well, at least it might be a hypothesis worth scrutiny. Add in more data on the background of the participants and the snooker table takes shape. A well-struck cue ball can arrange the other balls into an almost limitless number of possible formations. No two games will be exactly the same.

Valerie chided Klaus in her mother tongue, to minimise the chance of inadvertent eavesdropping. _"What possessed_ _you to offer that loudmouth your help with hiring a car? The harbour is overrun with rental dealers_."

" _Val, you always said that you didn't want to know anything about my business dealings. Kostas gave me some bad news. The Greek crisis has decimated the number of vehicles he requires. I have to spread my attention to the islands. It is easier to do business in Greece than anywhere else in Europe, because the government is often prepared to just go with the flow. I have to spread my sales now, but just a little in each island at a time. I am not going to call Kostas, I am going to buy a rental dealer here to begin taking up the backlog of cars that I need to move from Germany. I need to repeat this with lots of other islands. The idiot you mention is about to become my first pretend customer. I need to understand the rental business here, using him as a guinea pig. It will cost me a few euros to do a deal, but it is a buyer's market. You have no need to concern yourself about this."_

" _I see. That is fine then, as long as we no longer have to socialise with him very much."_

*

Having slept on Rolf's advice, Jean knocked on his friend's door.

"Ok, I have just seen the shit that you spoke about, the one I cannot flush away. I will follow your advice not to get involved, and I have just had a brilliant idea."

"Not another one, Jean. Come in while I get dressed. I feel sure you are going to insist that I hear it."

"Well, I think you would want to hear it, especially as you are a big part of it."

"No way, man. I just play the part of your sidekick, remember. Let us not fix something that did not yet break."

"Nothing much needs to change, Rolf. I cannot believe how I did not think of it before. I was listening to you last night even though you thought your hints were going in one ear and out of the other one. I have decided, I am going to fire the manager."

"Great idea. I am thrilled that I need to hear no more."

"You do if you are going to be the new manager."

"You have either gone deaf or you are not listening at all. I am Rolf, a hitchhiker, I have no car and I do not want one. Responsibility and Rolf tend to repel each other like two north poles of a magnet. End of discussion."

"I cannot accept your refusal until you hear the rest of my proposal. You need not take responsibility for anything except putting your own ideas into practice."

"You have lost me again, Jean. I must still be hungover."

"Ok, then we should grab some croissants and coffee, and we can continue this while we relax on the beach."

"Now, that is my language, the beach."

*

Aron had shared the nucleus of his idea with Raisa and was quite chuffed that she didn't torpedo it immediately. "So, let me get this right, you aren't going to let them in on the fact that we come back from Skopelos and leave them there for how long?"

"A couple of nights, maybe five or six. Look, I know they'll be ok with giving us some space for our wedding anniversary, but that won't guarantee that they can't bump into us unless they're on a different island."

"I can imagine Dad being keen on this, but Mum seems to have found an attachment to Skiathos. I never dreamed for one moment she would have stripped off on the nudist beach, and she couldn't believe that Dad would follow suit. They really are having a great time, and I don't feel right if we just palm them off to Skopelos right now. Maybe in a few days."

"Ok, so we're still on course to keep our agreement?"

She sighed. "I suppose so. But I don't want to talk about it now. Leave it for a while, please."

"Sure. I need to find Herr Car-Hire-Man so we can get some proper transport. See you later."

*

Bianca asked Stefano if he was ok with her new-found liberal personality. He rubbed his chin wistfully and pulled her close to him.

"You have always managed to surprise me, Bianca. From the very first day you came to the bike shop, making demands about painting your own design on the one you bought, I knew what I wanted. The way you took on the cancer and its destruction of any chance to have babies of our own, took my breath away. So, how is flaunting your naked body to everyone going to be a problem?"

"It wasn't just the beach itself, it spurred me on to dress younger than my years last night. It was a bit risqué, wasn't it?"

"It certainly was. Are you forgetting that your antics on the beach were infectious? When I walked along and saw you, I said, 'what the hell'. I must admit it brought out the young Stefano. It also made me a bit randy. Well, I don't need to tell you that, you encouraged me when we got to bed."

"Brought out the young Stefano? It brought out the eyeballs of our daughter and Aron. I'm glad I was wrong about this being an awkward situation. Maybe Raisa and Aron would like to spend their anniversary on Skopelos. I love it here. If they don't want to be alone on another island for the big day, I think we should also hire a car, you know, so that they can at least get a few hours on their own. Should we ask Aron to speak to the German guy? If he can get such good deals, let's splash out on a little indulgence of our own."

"That is a great idea. I'll go and see Aron now."

*

"Good morning, Aron. Bianca and I were just thinking, why don't we get two hire cars? Two for the price of one, hopefully."

Aron's analytical legal brain whirred and spewed out the result. "Brilliant. More flexibility, go somewhere in convoy or separate ways if we want. Do you have anywhere in mind? To explore, I mean."

"Not really. You did say there was a ferry to Skopelos didn't you? Presumably it takes cars?"

"Sure does," beamed Aron, thinking – yes, back of the net!! "Actually I'm on my way to see Field Marshall Rommel now. Let's go together."

"Right, I'll just tell Bianca to hook up with Raisa until we get back."

*

Just as Rolf was dozing off, he was startled by a spray of cold beer, from Jean's vigorously shaken can of Mahou.

"I am ready to tell you the rest of my revised masterplan. No interruptions, here is your beer, just listen. I do not fire the manager. I can see that you like that. You definitely do not need to be manager, especially if you are the new owner."

"Have you been at the funny...?"

"Drink and listen. I already pay you expenses, buy your clothes, give you spending money, and much more, on a regular basis. All we have to do is formalise this arrangement into a salary. You are supposed to repay me by getting me fixed up with attractive women, but it never happens."

"Mission imp..."

"Forget that, now you can actually do something for your keep. Nobody needs to know you are **not** really the owner, except me, and my father of course. You get to do all this motivation stuff by having authority, and this respect you babble on about. I shall even increase your salary. How does that sound?"

"Jean, I cannot pretend that I will be happy to spend my bloody life on this island. It may be a great place for a vacation but..."

"You do not have to. You told me that I should keep out of the running of the hotel, and not interfere with details. And in my plan, you only have to be here to keep them on their toes, according to the philosophy you blew at me last night. I become _your_ sidekick and we just carry on as before. We go where we want, as long as this place runs like clockwork. If you follow your own advice and make a success of it, I can be certain that I will be able to talk my father into investing in another hotel somewhere else. He will surely jump at the chance to keep me out of the business, and make money at the same time. He knows that this green energy fad cannot last forever. It will be our little secret."

"You really have been thinking about this, have you not? I must say that I am impressed with the concept, but do you really promise to keep your chubby little arse out of all aspects of running the hotel?"

"Sure, if the bloody place is making money, my bank balance will swell even more than my prick."

"Let me sleep on it. Give me twenty-four hours."

*

Klaus Becker was transparent in his faked delight to see both Aron and Stefano in reception. The faking didn't quite turn to orgasm when they stated their desire for two cars. Nevertheless, his enthusiasm kicked up a notch.

"To start the ball rolling, I should tell you, my contact only deals in top end cars. However, that means you would get a superb vehicle for a similar price that these crooks down on the harbour will charge for a glasshouse on wheels. We are talking Audi and Mercedes."

"Wow," gasped Aron, "so are you going to speak to your man in Piraeus now?"

"Leave it with me. Just tell me if you both want the same car. Before you sign up, you can check the quote against the local rental companies for a Mini. Then you decide."

Stefano delegated the choice to Aron, who said, "An Audi Q5 would do nicely, is that an option?"

"Good choice, is that two then? Are you bothered about the colour?"

"No way man, as long as it's not black. The heat, you know?"

"Fine, give me a couple of hours."

When Aron and Stefano met up with the girls again, the swagger was difficult to ignore.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," said Bianca.

"Job done," said Aron. Stefano added a cautionary note that they would have the quote by the afternoon.

There was no dissent to the suggestion of going back to Banana beach. They called the taxi driver who'd given them his card when they first arrived, and he confirmed that he'd be at the hotel in ten to fifteen minutes.

# Chapter 7

He or She Who Blinks First

Klaus strolled along the waterfront envisioning the kind of rental operation he wanted. He disciplined himself to assess potential ahead of what existed at present. He counted thirteen candidates on the main part of the strip. The elimination process was taking shape. Retracing his steps in the opposite direction, he deleted those with poor frontage and others with patently volume driven business rather than quality. He didn't want franchises with Jeeps and quirky vehicles in a multitude of 'fruit pastille' colours. He stopped, looked up at the blazing sun, reminded himself that it was still early morning and made the first decision. The tatty, open forecourt concept was all wrong for the clientele he wanted to attract. An enclosed, super-efficient air conditioned approach was paramount. Wandering about, looking at cars amidst the bustle of the working population was a no-no. It left him with a very short list of two. He didn't want to begin with purpose built new premises, there wasn't time for that, but it would be needed later. He walked into the nearest of the two, hoping to see the owner or manager. It looked like a locally owned outfit rather than a satellite operation of one of the big names.

"Good morning, sir. Can I help you?"

"Well, that depends, who is in charge here?"

"Oh, that would be Nikos, can I ask what it is about?"

"Yes, of course. I want to hire two cars. One for a couple of weeks, and the other for however long I stay here. As far as I can see, you do not have what I am looking for."

"Right, I must ask Nikos to come and speak with you."

It took over three minutes for the man to appear, but he was neatly dressed and offered a firm handshake. Klaus cut to the chase.

"I want to hire a couple of high end cars, preferably Audi Q5's. If you cannot supply them would you know who could?"

"We don't get much demand for that model, sir. Isn't there anything else you could consider?"

"Not really, but maybe if we got out of the sun you could convince me."

They went inside and Nikos shouted some instruction in Greek to a young woman. The coffees appeared on a tray alongside bottles of both natural and carbonated water. It was a decent opening.

"Tell me, before I hear your sales pitch, how is business doing at the moment?"

"To be honest, not so good. Low volume and fierce competition has been the way of things since these awful bailout conditions have been with us."

"You cannot supply the cars I would like, why is that? Are you an autonomous business or part of some group?"

"Actually, there isn't much of a market for those high end cars, and they are expensive to obtain. Most of our customers want runabouts."

"So, you do not have more affluent people who want to step off the ferry or plane, and walk only a few yards to have pre-booked cars waiting for them? Are there no rich ex-patriots here?"

"Excuse me, sir, but who are you? A tax official? If you really want higher specification cars I can speak to some contacts and see what I can come up with."

"Well, I can assure you that I am certainly not from the tax office. This is my first trip to Skiathos and I like the island. It has a great atmosphere. I am staying at the Paradiso, but I could maybe see myself buying a property here sometime. My business is in the automobile sector. I currently supply Audi and Mercedes cars to the Greek mainland for onward sale. If I had only known how much I was going to like this place, I would have brought one of my Audi Q5's with me instead of the Porsche, which is too small. I had never even considered that the rental business could be of interest to me until I got here."

Nikos frowned. "So, you mean you are going to start your own business here, that's all we need, more competition."

"You misunderstand me. I will not become resident here, and my interest is to promote the vehicles I already have. I could be interested in a partnership arrangement if there was a suitable opportunity. I have considerable financial resource and I look at this in terms of a market which is not being exploited at present. I do not seek exponential growth, rather a business which depends less upon volume of customers, more of how much disposable income they have. If that means far better margins from less vehicles and their repairs, it could work. I know it would require a lot of investment to produce the image that is needed, but I cannot see that as anything but a calculated risk, and I would be happy to bankroll it with a partner who was serious about making the concept work. Anyway, can you get me a couple of Q5's? I need them as soon as possible, even if I have to buy them as starter cars for the project. I could just ship a couple from the mainland, but I have two families who want them like yesterday. I intend to get a few cars shipped here anyway, and get them garaged until I sort out premises and most importantly a local partner who can oversee the entire business operation. You cannot accumulate if you fail to speculate."

Nikos could also see an opportunity here. If he could gain liquidity from the sale of 50% of his business, and keep working, it would offer him an early pension nest egg to squirrel away as insurance against the entire Greek economy's collapse.

"Give me some time to make a few calls. Sorry, but they will have to be in my language. I'll explain everything if I can find the cars you prefer. I'll also check other islands which are close, as well as Skiathos. Would you like more coffee?"

"Very nice of you, thanks."

*

Rolf had suffered a restless night. Uncharacteristically, he'd worried about making a decision. It was a new emotion for him to dwell on whether he'd regret not taking up Jean's offer. He had declined many offers in the past, because they were tinged with fantasy. But this was different. Instead of depending on handouts and being chained to whatever his friend impulsively agreed or refused to pay for, here was a chance to be selective himself. Maybe he'd even earn enough to deposit some savings. He wasn't lacking confidence in orchestrating the way forward for the hotel, despite having no relevant experience. It was clear, even if he screwed up he could revert back to being Jean's 'handyman'. It was more to do with having to be at a precise place at a specified time on a regular basis. He'd lived his entire life in the opposite direction. The anticipated knock on the door interrupted his deliberations.

"Good morning, Rolf. How are we today? Back to the beach this morning? It is definitely a great place for thinking out of the box."

"Why not? But please do not pester me about this proposition you made to me. I said twenty-four hours, and that stands. I fancy a bit of paragliding, if our budget will extend to such indulgence."

"Sure, but I will pass on joining you up in the air. I can sit with the guy in the boat. Deal?"

"Deal, then we can go."

*

The beach was a little less crowded compared to the previous day, as there was a cross between a flea market and a car boot sale in full swing at the edge of town. There was, however, more tension in the air about stripping off than there was less than eighteen hours ago. The first time was a curious hybrid of daring and humour which conspired to help banish any pretence of taking the incident seriously. Something akin to the well-hackneyed phrase that there can only be one first impression. The awkwardness prevailed until Stefano blurted out his suggestion for Aron and Raisa to spend their anniversary on the romantic island of Skopelos.

"We'll both have our own transport soon, and you needn't worry about us. We fancy exploring the rest of this island. One of the ladies in reception gave us a map and recommended some remote villages in which the people are still practising skills from over a hundred years ago. Not your cup of tea, but it fascinates me."

Raisa looked at Aron, couldn't resist a wry 'told you so' smile, and said, "What do you think, darling?"

"Well, I uh, I'm not sure what I think yet. Actually, we talked about this last night, didn't we Raisa? We were going to book the two of you into a small cottage on Skopelos, as a surprise. Just for a couple of nights. I've heard they have them right next to the guest house in which Meryl Streep lived with her daughter, you know, in Mama Mia. That would be fab don't you think, Bianca?"

"Oh no, definitely not. I don't like the idea of giving up the opulence of our hotel, not even for one night. Stefano and I could maybe do a half-day trip by ferry later in the week. It sounds ideal for the relatively newlywed couple though, why don't you two go for it?"

Discretion was the better part of valour, or so Aron convinced himself. At any rate he knew his plan was in a deepening hole, and the very least he could do right now was to stop digging.

"It's worth thinking about, Stef, thanks for being so considerate. Anyway, Raisa, back to the here and now, do you fancy getting one of these pedalo contraptions over there, to explore a few coves and enjoy what breeze there is out at sea?"

"No thanks."

"Is that it? Just no thanks?"

"It was a yes or no question, dear."

Whenever she referred to him as 'dear' it meant he should tread carefully. The penny dropped, she was simply avoiding any further discussion of his plan.

"Ok, I'm going for a dip to cool off before I stretch out in the sun." He whipped off his shorts and jogged lazily into the water. Preoccupied with the conundrum presented by his father-in-law, he waded in to about waist depth and began to fart, confident that there would be no noise. However, a young lady who'd been swimming under water in his direction suddenly surfaced just in front of him and immediately began to giggle. She seemed to be about twenty, with an ornate tattoo on her left breast, which was heaving in synchronisation with the other one, both choreographed to the pulse of her laughter.

"Having a bubble bath are we?"

"Excuse me, I've got acute stomach pains. I feel better now."

As he continued to trawl through the gentle waves he failed to notice that each one which lapped over his periscope pulsed the blood flow by increasing increments. When he turned toward the shore, he was confronted by a bevy of bodies, with everything on display. He was stymied. The proximity of so much genitalia complicated his diminishing command of the situation. He decided to swim further out until flaccidity returned. Then he heard Raisa calling to him. Mercifully, the water was deeper here. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but noticed that a lot of people were running to get out of the sea. The pain was excruciating but he couldn't actually see the cause. He instinctively swam as hard as he could to the shore. With around thirty yards to go his feet touched the bottom, at the same time as he could decipher what his wife was saying. "Hurry, get the hell out of the water, Aron, the lifeguard has issued a jellyfish alert."

"Oh shit, one of them must have stung my manservant. Ask him if I need to go to hospital."

By the time he staggered ashore, the lifeguard was in attendance. The swelling was already an angry shade of purple and it was right on the tip. He was now the subject of unwanted attention from gloaters. The lifeguard helped him to a jeep and said precautionary tests at the hospital were necessary. Never before had there been such clamour to see his purple-headed warrior. He waved goodbye to his family and cursed his luck. His plan was facing meltdown, but at least the lifeguard assured him that it wasn't a lethal variety of jellyfish.

# Chapter 8

A New Beginning

As Aron walked gingerly along the hospital corridor he was relieved to see Raisa was on her own.

"Oh, how are you, darling? I've been so worried about you. Does it still hurt?"

"It's not too bad now that they gave me an injection and some strong painkillers. It's still swollen though, and feels very tender. How far is it back to the hotel?"

"Not far, just a short walk if you're up to it."

"Good, I wanted to speak to you alone about this bloody idea which Stefano brought up. I'm not going to fall for it."

"Are you saying I had something to do with it?"

"No, not at all. I'm just not going to waste any of the vacation in a damned crofter's hut. As he rightly said, we'll soon have two cars and we can just split whenever we want."

"Surely you aren't still thinking about your silly plan. It's no longer appropriate."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's even more important now. Look, Raisa, the whole purpose of coming on holiday was to get as far away from the environment in which our difficulties arose. We absolutely agreed that we needed to get out of a rut. That hasn't changed. Our marriage is at stake, and we can't discuss it or overcome some of our problems if we are continually chaperoned by Sonny and Cher. I'm serious, you could say I've been stung into action."

They crossed the road into the shade. "A big part of the problem, Aron, is that you think it's all about the physical side of our relationship. I admit there are issues there, but from my side, they aren't so important. Neither of us are the same people as we were when we first met at Dad's bike shop."

"That's as may be, but the sexual side is crucial for me. Rightly or wrongly I've always felt that you dismiss my concern about it. Truthfully, I've never felt any warmth from you in that regard, whereas the other elements of our marriage aren't too strained, but they are affected by your diffidence towards my desires in the bedroom."

"Aron, I've never leaned on this before, but I'm the product of a very unusual childhood. You know about it, but you can't live it. I've tried hard to overcome this, I really have. There are things I remember, things I don't remember, and things I don't want to remember. I sometimes feel that my life just began when my parents took me away from danger. When you appeared, I was attracted to your funny English accent and your easy sense of humour. With all of my friends I seem to need some distance. It's different with Mum and Dad, because they rescued me from that awful place. They made me feel safe. You don't like it when I say that you made me feel safe, but all I mean is that I trust you, and there aren't many people I can say that about. The thought of anyone 'possessing' me again is frightening. Sex is one of the things which brings on those emotions. I know it's been two years since we got married, but please be patient with me for a little longer. I know it's my fault, but bullying me will just make it worse."

"I completely accept what you say, but like any therapy, talking about the problem is crucial. Then, doing things to lighten the mood, accepting helpful suggestions are positive ways of slaying demons. Surely you realise that I know we are physically mismatched, and I'm sure your girlfriends have said you could do better. That would annoy some husbands, but it means little to me. I'm glad you've opened up about your childhood. I want to help you to confront those difficulties, and despite you dismissing the notion that sex and laughter belong in the margins of a bond, I disagree. Just look at the change in your parents in the last few days. I'm not obsessed with sex, other than with you, and a big part of that is to convince you that it can be light-hearted as well as a burden. It might just catalyse a shift back to where we started out. I'd like that, wouldn't you? Are you willing to trust me with this?"

"Of course. So, how do we handle my parents?"

"I'll come up with a cunning plan."

*

Klaus was impressed with the tenacity of Nikos. He'd managed to track down one contact who said he had a friend who was looking to trade in his two year-old Audi Q5, and also he already knew that a competitor along the harbour had one. It was the guy's own car, but times were bad and maybe he would rent it for the right price.

"Can you check them both out, Nikos, and call me as soon as you know if we can make a deal?"

"Of course. We can speak about the details then. What kind of partnership are you looking for?"

"Well, I would be something like a sleeping partner. I definitely do not have time to run the business which I proposed. It may sound strange to you but I am truly only interested in building an income flow of a certain size. Beyond that I do not want the pressure to expand. I have one employee back in Koblenz who would fit the bill. I may speak to him later in the week."

"So, you aren't looking for a local to run your rental outlet?"

"That would be ideal, but surely the other companies around here would try to squeeze me out, especially if they knew one of the partners was a foreigner?"

"Do they have to know? I might be interested in the right kind of relationship. They would believe I had just decided to move my business to more added value products. Even my staff wouldn't have to be burdened with such detail."

"Well, if you are serious we should talk later. Let us get the two cars sorted out and then we can have dinner at my hotel. Would that fit with your schedule?"

"Sure, you will hear from me soon."

As Klaus wandered back towards the Paradiso, he caught a glimpse of Valerie gazing at new shoes in one of the boutiques.

"Hello, you need more accessories?"

"I was just looking at trainers, actually. The air soles help to keep the pain at bay. These ones are shot, I only kept them because I liked the colour."

"Let us have a coffee, and then buy you a new dress."

"I brought enough with me, remember? One for each island."

"Well, I think I may have stumbled on a prospective business acquisition, and I invited him to have dinner with us. Why not choose an extravagant gown?"

"Oh, I see, it is not really for me then, just to impress someone you want to do business with?"

"No, that is not fair, well, not solely for that purpose. I want to set up a completely new operation and I would really like it to be in your name only. You will never need to do anything except check your bank account each month. Val, it is the least I can do, in fact I should have done it years ago. You need no longer have to keep asking me for money and explaining what it is for. It should be seen as a present and I want to celebrate, also after this guy leaves I want to ask your opinion on an idea to give us a better social life. I hope to downsize or sell the business in Koblenz. So, we can have much more free time, and actually, it is time I followed your lead. You have never complained about doing that for me since you finished running."

She totally and unexpectedly threw her arms around him and pressed her lips against his. "Thank you, Klaus. I must admit I have been thinking what life is for recently, just making more money seemed so pointless. I could not have taken much more."

It hit him like a sledgehammer, she'd been thinking of leaving him. He now had to adjust his plans to fit the fairy story he'd just told her.

*

"Let me get this straight then, Jean. You take a step back, tell everybody here that I have bought the hotel from you, and in return I get a salary to run the place with a hands-off approach. There has to be a snag."

"Why should there be? Unless you are afraid you simply cannot do the job."

"I have a question about that, but later. How do you intend to judge how I would perform?"

"Only by the bookings and the profit."

"You promise not to interfere if I decide to hire and fire?"

"Jesus, last night you were berating me for thinking of sacking the manager. Have you got anyone in mind, to come in or go out, I mean?"

"You were here several times last year, is that when you recruited most of the staff?"

"You must be joking. Me, recruiting people. The geezer who was building the place was the original owner. He ran out of liquidity and drained the bank of a couple of million. He wanted out before they foreclosed on him. I heard about his predicament and made the problem go away. Part of the deal was for him to finish the building and get the place open on my behalf. I am not quite as stupid as you think I am, Rolf. Anyway, you are as stupid as I think you are if you walk away from the chance of a lifetime, to do something meaningful, instead of settling for 'Rolf Cool'. It might turn out to be a disaster, in which case I may have to step in and fire you. In no way could I possibly have my old man lecturing me all over again about responsibility. If I advertised what I have offered you, I would have a queue from here back to bloody Marseille. So, it has to be about time you pissed or got off the pot."

"One last question. If you did have to fire me, would I lose my status as 'Rolf Cool'?"

"Some of it, not much. You would definitely have to stop giving me your shit advice all the time. You have much more important talents to brush up on. Sometimes you are like a bloody agony aunt."

"Ok, there is no paperwork then?"

"That is the last thing we need, see it seems to be working already, the new relationship I mean. Now, if you are telling me that you are in, I have one question for you."

"How much salary are you offering me?"

"I said I had one question, Rolf. Never mind, I was about to tell you anyway. A hundred and fifty grand per annum, no tax, no bonus, no other perks. Is it a yes?"

"Consider it done. Am I now the head honcho?"

"More damn questions. No, it is my turn. How will we keep in touch about our social life if you think you are needed here for long periods? It mustn't affect our lifestyle, and I will not be here unless I want to be"

"That, in fact, is my first port of call with the manager. I need to think how to find the right words to motivate him, so that he knows I do not intend to be here interfering like you do. Without blowing my own trumpet, I do have a reputation for getting people on my side."

"Ok, we can do this without the need to cut our wrists and mix our blood again, we did that when we were six years old. Go and tell him the good news. He will probably shit a brick. Two changes of ownership in a very short time. He will have no idea what is happening, or whether his orifice is punched or bored."

# Chapter 9

Ride a White Swan

Sitting by the hotel pool, Aron was gradually coming to terms with at least delaying his scheme for a while. His throbbing helmet would be a serious drawback with respect to orchestrating a seamless transition from mood music to full blown sky diving. He'd almost fainted in the bathroom while getting ready for breakfast, when he couldn't resist inspecting the regiment. Easing back his foreskin was painful in the extreme, but visually, the glans looked like a beetroot with a grotesque tumour on one side. How the hell was a woman supposed to be aroused enough to lower the drawbridge and welcome such a harbinger of the unknown? Raisa broke the train of thought.

"I couldn't find Mum and Dad, Aron, so I checked at reception and apparently they went for a stroll. How is Tonto doing this morning?"

"A lot better, thanks. But before you ask, I don't feel like walking. I haven't heard from that bloody German yet, and he promised to have our quote ready yesterday afternoon."

"Well, we had to go to the hospital, remember? He probably couldn't find you. Have you checked with reception, to see if he left a message?"

"Oh, good thinking, Raisa, could you do that for me?"

She returned almost immediately, with a broad smile, and was accompanied by her parents.

"Klaus was even better than his word. Mum and Dad hadn't just gone walking, Herr Becker took them to the harbour. Our cars are in the hotel car park. He's there now, and he said not to worry if the quote doesn't meet with our approval, he can easily find others who might want to hire them. He explained that if he hadn't approved their arrival yesterday there would have been a delay of about a week in finding and importing alternatives."

"Maybe I misjudged this guy. He certainly seems to have some clout around here. Did he give you the quote?"

"Yes," said Stefano, "and I checked out the other rental companies on the street. He's offering them to us for considerably less than a Hyundai X35. It's a no brainer. We've already paid him for ours, well not actually him, this other chap, one of the rental dealers on the harbour strip. Nice man, and Klaus said this Nikolas would sort out the paperwork."

"It was Nikos, darling," whispered Bianca, "although that could be short for Nikolas."

"Yes, whatever, but you should go and see Klaus right now, Aron. I chose the white one, I hope you don't mind?"

"Ok, go ahead, tell me, what colour is mine?"

"Just pulling your leg, it's white as well. But ours is manual, I hate driving automatics. Are you happy with that?"

"Absolutely, in fact it's a bonus, as I'm having a bit of discomfort lifting my left leg, you know, courtesy of that sodding jellyfish."

They met a beaming Klaus in the car park and sealed the deal. Aron thanked him.

"As you've probably heard, I had a bit of an accident yesterday, Klaus, so if you rang my mobile, I must have missed your call. Anyway, you've done us proud, can we invite you to dine with us sometime? In the hotel, I mean."

"That's very kind of you, but I have an arrangement for tonight in the hotel restaurant. Maybe later in the week."

"Fine, we look forward to it, and thanks again."

*

Rolf had asked Jean to tell nobody else but the manager that he was now the owner.

"And, just leave it at that, ok? I'll take it from there. I would rather play down what it means to the employees. Keep it as business as usual, no drama, no announcement. I need you to give me at least the rest of the morning to answer the manager's questions, but only the ones he asks. I want to gain the guy's confidence in my own way. Why not go back to the beach and I can join you as soon as I get done here."

"I like it, Rolf, I knew you would warm to the task once you got into gear. Can I make one tiny suggestion?"

"Do you really need to?"

"No, I suppose not, so see you at the beach, and you can let me know how your one-on-one with the breath monster develops."

"How do you know he has halitosis? You have never really been close to the guy, you just bark at him from across the room."

"Now you know why. I would be prepared to gamble that he uses shit for toothpaste. He turns my stomach, even from two metres away. I cannot imagine you will have a problem, you can handle it, even if it would be like French-kissing a skunk, not that I've tried it, good luck."

Rolf thought his friend was deliberately winding him up. He knocked on the manager's office door.

"Do you have a moment? I have an urgent request."

"I'm really busy but I can spare two minutes, will that be enough?"

"I would rather you decide whether that is the case. I shall come straight to the point. I believe your name is Gonzales, am I correct?"

"Indeed, so how may I help?"

"I would like this to be kept between you and me for now. Jean Vermont has agreed to my offer to buy the hotel."

"I think you had better sit down, Mr? I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"Pirez. In fact, I have been negotiating with Mr Vermont for some time now and he finally agreed to my improved offer. My only purpose in coming to see you is to give assurances that your position is safe, and I want to hear any ideas or problems you may have that you would like to share. If you do not have any, that is perfectly fine. I merely need to get across that my style as an owner will be quite different to that of Vermont."

"I see. I am still curious as to why he bought the hotel in the first place, is he just a speculator?"

Rolf was in the direct line of the approaching cloud of putrid fish, and he almost threw up. Gathering his wits quickly, he switched his natural intake of breath from his nose to his mouth.

"No, he is most certainly not a speculator. Without his intervention the building may never have been completed, but his expertise is in the energy business. I think he eventually realised that this diversification was a step too far. You must have noticed that he is very inexperienced."

"That is an understatement, Mr Pirez. And you have previously been involved in the hotel business?"

"For quite some time as it happens, well, in actually supplying hotels and supermarkets. My father tried to make me learn from the bottom up. His was a small venture in France, but the clientele was not so different to this place. However, rest assured, I will not trouble you unless it becomes necessary. So, can you just mull this over and we carry on as if nothing has changed, for now? When you have time to digest what I just said, we can talk. If you agree that people do not really need to know who owns the bricks and mortar, we would be able to start our relationship on the same wavelength."

"Certainly, I'll find you when I've thought about your proposal."

Rolf couldn't wait to exit the gas chamber, and once outside he gasped in some fresh air. He headed straight for the beach, feeling a little guilty. His father had only been involved in the meat packing industry.

*

Klaus found Valerie relaxing on their balcony. "I managed to get rid of that English lot. You would not believe why I failed to find them yesterday. Motormouth's wife told me he had been stung by a jellyfish, and her father added that the bite was on his bratwurst. Apparently he had to go to hospital."

"If that is true, I feel sorry for the jellyfish."

"Yes, it is probably dead. Now can we go and get you that dress? Have you seen any boutiques which might have the style you are looking for?"

"There is one I noticed at the very top of the main street. I could hardly see inside but the shop front itself was classy. We can try there first."

They walked slowly down the street, realising that the sun was now directly overhead. Valerie remarked that apart from the discomfort of constantly feeling too hot, her arthritic pain was actually significantly more bearable than it was back home. She was also standing much more comfortably, less round-shouldered. Klaus, being the opportunist that he was, jumped on to this with a predatory reflex suggestion.

"If that proves to be true, Valerie, we should think about buying a holiday home in a warmer climate. Would you consider that?"

"Are you sure about that? Would you not have to go back to Koblenz a lot?"

"I said yesterday that I intend to throttle back my direct involvement in the business. Your welfare and lifestyle is more important than binding ourselves to Koblenz."

"If you mean it, we could even look at some properties here, you know, to get an idea what is available and at what price."

"Right, could you seriously consider this island? I mean, I really do like it myself, but I think you should decide. A place where you knew for sure that you would feel happy. It seems kind of romantic in a way that you picked it out with a pin. Maybe it was an omen."

"Ok. We should get the dress first and we can visit some real estate agents. Thank you, darling."

*

As soon as they'd gobbled down their baguettes by the pool, Bianca announced that she and her husband were off to explore in their white chariot.

"We're going to just drive and see where we end up. See you for dinner?"

Raisa was a little taken aback, not least of all because she was going to be left with the invalid.

"We could follow you, if Aron is up to driving."

"Oh, Raisa, give your husband a chance to chill out after his awful experience yesterday."

Aron chirped up. "Thanks, Bianca. Actually, I'd probably be ok to drive, but I'm going to avoid the beach today. I could fancy a nice restful boat ride around the island. Maybe we could get an idea about any interesting places to drive to tomorrow. What do you think, Raisa?"

"What? You mean one of those fancy boats down at the harbour? Wow, they are really swish. I could go for that."

"That's sorted then," said Aron, "are you looking for some of those villages you mentioned the other day, Stef? The ones which are still living life as it was in the nineteenth century."

"They're the ones. So, we'll see you back here about seven-thirty?"

Aron nodded. "Right. Are we eating in tonight?"

"Let's decide when we get back," replied Stefano, "have a good boat trip then."

Raisa helped Aron to stand up so that he could position his vulnerability within his shorts, to minimise the chance of accidental contact with stray objects. They walked to the harbour and talked to a few of the people offering different types of service on their craft. Aron liked the idea of one which took a maximum of only six people, went wherever they wanted to go, provided wine and cheese nibbles, and stopped whenever they felt like making landfall. It was a bit more expensive, but Raisa capitulated when he said he thought she deserved to be pampered, and that he wanted to 'push the boat out' for her as a surprise.

Meanwhile, Stefano pulled into a layby at Bianca's request.

"I remember that name from the map we got from reception. It said it was a much smaller and quieter beach than Banana, and I think it also mentioned that it had the best beach café on the island. Let's give it a try."

"Ok," said Stefano, "I feel awful about selling Aron a dummy, we never intended going to the old villages."

"So do I, honey, but we'll get over it, I'm sure. We want to carry on being decadent don't we? It's not like they won't enjoy their sailing trip."

They parked the car and followed the primitive signs up and over some very narrow paths to Abelakia beach. It was a joy to behold. Iced coffee and a bowl of locally picked fruit primed them for an afternoon swim.

Aron and Raisa were equally pleased with their choice. The two-man crew was superb, both very attentive, and informative about each place they passed. The wine was excellent quality and fortunately the other couple on board were pleasantly engaging, without being intrusive.

# Chapter 10

Raised Awareness

Rolf was more than a little annoyed that he couldn't see Jean on the beach. It was so crowded that he resorted to using his mobile to make contact.

"Where are you? I am walking up and down the length of the cove but I cannot see you."

"Having a beer in the taverna near the pedalo hire place. I am now waving my hand, can you do the same?"

"No need, I can see you now. Get me a beer, will you?"

Rolf noticed the sarcastic expression on his friend's face as he accepted the bottle of Budweiser. "Ok, Jean, you did warn me about Gonzales' breath, that was some ordeal, his office needs some serious work, air fresheners and a better extraction fan would be a good start. But how do you tell someone they have serious mouth odour when their entire remit is to communicate with staff and customers? I mean he could have already been responsible for lots of errors because of people not really hearing what he says. I had to concentrate like hell, and I was doing most of the talking. I admit to not looking forward to seeing him again, when he is running his suggestions for improvement past me. You know, it must be like hearing you have leprosy, and everyone avoids you. What the hell can the poor guy do about it?"

"Get his jaws wired together?"

"Come on, Jean, I am trying to be serious, I feel sorry for the guy."

"Well, that is exactly what I pay you for Mr Motivator. Cheer up. You must not let it get to you, at least not while we are chilling out. I absolutely do not expect to keep a dog and then have to bark myself. You are the man, the one to come up with something. Do you fancy going clubbing tonight?"

"Maybe. I need to have a swim after this beer. It would be a good idea to get out of the hotel tonight."

*

Klaus was on the verge of losing it. Valerie had tried on seventeen dresses and asked for his opinion about every one, despite the fact that he could see that she had no intention of buying any of them. The sales assistant came to the rescue by unearthing a realistic candidate from the storeroom. It was shorter than any of the others, and just as Valerie was ready to dismiss it on that account, he intervened.

"You have always had great legs, Val, and yet recently you have deliberately avoided showing them off. I think you subconsciously dress more the way you imagine other people expect you to, rather than pleasing yourself. I think the black and red suits you and I would be interested in the sales lady's opinion."

Valerie was ever so slightly embarrassed by realising how indecisive she'd become. She glanced at the woman, not expecting anything other than gushing endorsement of Klaus' opinion.

"I would agree with your husband that you have the legs for a dress like this, but a softer colour might be better, and I think one size smaller. We do not have that size, unfortunately, but it is only the waist which is too loose. We could alter that during the afternoon if you like the dress. In fact I would suggest also taking up the hem another two centimetres. You would really get the best shape with that, the way it will then hang properly."

"Exactly," exclaimed Klaus, "now please listen to her, Val, you really look stunning in it. Just stop thinking about it anymore, and buy it."

"Ok, but you said we are dining with this man tonight, is it suitable for formal dining with a business contact?"

"Of course it is. In fact I think it will help the conversation. We want to avoid a formal atmosphere, it is only an explorative meeting to see if we are the right fit to work together. It is just as much about social compatibility as the other stuff. I value your opinion in this respect, so, if you agree, I can handle the financial implications and you could feel out the character and personality of the guy."

"Wow, but you never asked me to do anything like this before."

"Simply because you never seemed to have any interest in my business deals. This is different for both of us. Can we tell the lady you are taking the dress?"

"Yes. I feel quite excited about wearing it now."

*

Bianca and Stefano decided to take out a pedalo following their swim in the ultra-clear water of Abelakia beach. They headed offshore to get a better perspective of the immediate coastline and then turned right because it seemed to offer more variation in terrain. After a strenuous twenty minutes, taking turns on the pedals, Bianca spotted a very pretty little cove. It was peppered with beautiful flowering trees and had a sprinkling of medium-sized rocks guarding the approach. It seemed to be completely 'abandoned' from where they were, so they navigated their way past the rocks just to be sure it had no signs indicating it was private property.

"Let's go ashore, Stefano. I've still got some fruit left over from the café, and I want to get some close up pictures of those gorgeous trees."

"Ok, but we'll have to find some way to anchor the pedalo, otherwise it will probably drift out to sea, and then we'd be stuck. Hopefully the sand doesn't slope too severely and we are able to just drag it on to the shore."

They managed to beach the craft successfully and Bianca began taking her photographs. There were no footprints in the cove except theirs, and Stefano remarked that there was no litter either. "It looks like nobody has been here for quite some time."

"So, do you think we can swim in the nude here too?"

"Well, there's nobody to object, so what the hell?"

They stripped off once more and he chased Bianca into the turquoise lagoon-like inlet. The water was unusually still, except for subdued lapping against the sand. There were no chirping birds, no distant human chatter, and no other seagoing craft in sight. Bianca remarked once again that she felt so uninhibited on this island.

"We haven't done this kind of thing enough, Stefano. We've always been too concerned about what other people think. We could retire to somewhere like this. I'm going to have a nice big cocktail tonight before we eat."

They splashed around in the water for another ten minutes or so, and decided to dry off naturally before too much heat was lost from the sun.

*

The other couple on Aron and Raisa's boat were apparently Skiathos veterans and made various suggestions for making landfall. The first was a 'beach' of pure white pebbles about the size of plums. It was difficult to walk on them, but it was only a hundred metres to an inviting, open-sided restaurant, the Lobster Pot. They shared the cost of the house special and washed it down with Kir Royale. The two guys renting the boat had a swim during this late lunch break and were ready for the returning quartet, most of whom were feeling very relaxed due to the alcohol intake. The penultimate recommendation of the other couple was, according to the crew, definitely worth a visit. They chugged off, weaving alternately closer to and further from the shore, to see the multitudes of brightly coloured fish. As these little shoals changed direction frequently, they reflected hues of their variegated scales, like some kind of photonic representation of aquatic language. Aron looked closer, and the other guy loaned him his binoculars.

"Awesome, look Raisa, I've never seen anything like it before. It really does seem to be choreographed by the sun."

She took the binoculars and echoed Aron's delight. "How can they do this, so often and so quickly when they are just millimetres apart, without bumping into one another?"

It was all going well, in fact so well, that Aron invited the other couple to join them for dinner when they got back. A quick visual telepathic glance and they agreed.

"Sorry, we should have introduced ourselves earlier. I'm Conrad Philipps and this is my girlfriend Mandy."

"It really has been our lucky day, meeting up with you, hasn't it, Raisa? Oh, I'm Aron, by the way. We're staying at the Paradiso. Do you know where it is?"

"Everybody knows where the Paradiso is. It looks fabulous. Actually, we've been thinking about taking a peek, so we look forward to dinner, many thanks for the invitation. Oh, here we are, just around this little peninsula, the place we recommended." Conrad then turned to the crewman at the helm. "How close to the wreck can you get?"

"Thirty metres, depends if it's clear of seaweed."

As they rounded the point the skipper kept watch for submerged kelp and signalled the helmsman with regard to speed and direction.

The motor was turned off, and a small anchor was thrown overboard just to minimise drift.

"Well, what do you think? It's like a gateway to the South Sea Islands," said Conrad, not noticing the two crewmen laughing as he looked through his lenses, "oh dear me, just our luck."

Raisa looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

Conrad handed the binoculars to Aron, and was about to indicate to the crew that they should leave.

"No, wait a minute," said Aron, "take a look, Raisa. You really need to see this."

Conrad and Mandy were already shaking their heads, regretting having suggested they come to the wreck.

"I can't believe what I'm seeing," squealed Raisa, giving the binoculars back to Aron, "did you know?"

"Know what? I didn't know any more than you did. But I did say this kind of thing was to be expected."

"No, Aron, take another look."

This time he scanned the entire scene, it was slightly different, the couple who'd been fornicating passionately, were now completely spent, and disengaged to the point that there was no doubt. The Italian Stallion and his Senora.

"Jesus, Raisa." She didn't manage to stop him, it was mouth ahead of brain time again. "It's them, your bloody mother and father. Rock on Stefano, my man. Oh, well, you know, they weren't to know they were going to have company. It's no big deal, I mean Raisa and I..."

"I don't think Conrad and Mandy are particularly interested in your liberal interpretation of breaking the law, Aron."

Conrad eventually managed to persuade the crew to look away from the cabaret and fire up the motor. The noise attracted the attention of the performers in the cove, and after what seemed like a hesitant moment of realisation, Bianca waved to the audience, not having a clue that her daughter had just witnessed her moans and encouragement for her lover to keep going. Stefano appeared to be a little more disturbed that they'd been seen, and quickly tried in vain to pull his shorts over his still-erect colossus. He scrambled about on one leg until he fell into the water. Bianca collapsed, trying to deal with a fit of laughter. Conrad and Mandy had their backs to the action by now, and Raisa was yelling at the crew to get the hell out of there. Aron was still standing, smiling and returning Bianca's wave, hoping she could recognise him. Eventually, he turned to the patently offended couple and tried half-heartedly to mend fences. "Well, at least there's plenty to talk about over dinner."

"I think we should reconsider, if you don't mind. It could be a little awkward."

"Suit yourself, pal. It's not some natural disaster we've just witnessed. The guys who own the boat haven't stopped laughing yet. Maybe you should have just ignored what was going on. On second thoughts, you're probably right, I think that dinner would be so dry and boring for you, breaking bread with the plebs."

When they stepped off the boat, there were no goodbyes. Aron turned to the crew and offered them a good tip, but they declined, saying that they'd never had such an eventful trip to that location. Raisa looked at her husband, and although she had been unexpectedly shocked, he tried to explain to her that he could understand that as a simple reflex reaction, but it had to be put into context, this was nothing like the experiences of her childhood. At least Stefano and Bianca had chosen an isolated spot where they didn't expect voyeurs.

"This hasn't changed who your parents are. They love you, they always have and always will. We have to make light of this, please don't give them any moral lectures."

He was quite taken aback when she broke into tears and kissed him passionately on the lips. They walked back to the hotel arm-in-arm, and every few yards they began to laugh.

# Chapter 11

Ebb and Flow

In the hotel restaurant that evening, Klaus and Valerie waited for Nikos to arrive, and tried to look away from the Brits, led into the room by Aron. It didn't work. As they passed on the way to their own table, Aron stopped to thank the German once more, for helping locate their rental cars, but he added an unexpected addendum.

"Frau Becker, I must say you look fantastic this evening, not to say you don't always...I'm sorry, I just love that dress. I'm afraid I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth when I mean something different. I guess it's because my vocabulary in court has to be limited to avoid ambiguity. Anyway, I really do like that dress. I won't keep you, enjoy your meal."

Valerie felt a pang of guilt, maybe she'd rushed to judgement with this man. Perhaps he did have a genuine courteous and sensitive side after all.

"No, please forget whatever you were about to say, Klaus, let me enjoy the compliment. After all, it is vindication of your choice of this dress, and for me to wear it tonight. I think he was genuine in his sentiment. It should make us both feel good. Let us hope the rest of the evening is as rewarding."

"I suppose you are correct. His heart is in the right place, in his body, not in mine. The jury is still out though, but he deserves another chance."

Just then, a waiter came to the table and said that the gentleman at table twelve would like to offer them a bottle of wine of their own choice.

Klaus accepted the gesture and asked for a minute to study the list. He nodded his appreciation to Aron.

*

Rolf had insisted that he and Jean took a drink in the bar before dining out. He wanted to walk around casually, making mental notes of events as they unfolded. It would be good preparation for his next session with Gonzales, now nicknamed by Jean, as 'Gorgonzola'. Things seemed to be running smoothly and as Rolf passed through the restaurant, Bianca nudged Raisa under the table.

"He's a bit of all right, wouldn't you say? Where have I seen him before?"

"Mother, what's got into you? There's something Aron and I want to talk to you about, but anyway, I think we passed him at the front entrance when we walked back with the Germans, from the restaurant on the main street."

"Yes, now I remember, but I bet he's never short of company."

"Keep your voice down. Let's look at the menu and then talk."

"Your father and Aron aren't listening to us, but I'm intrigued by what you and Aron want to talk to me about, so I'll look at the choice of starters."

"We want to talk to you _and_ Dad. I'm having the Foie Gras."

"Make that two then. Are you boys ready to order?"

Stefano nodded and Aron followed suit. Meanwhile, Rolf wandered around as if he was looking for someone in particular, and just as he was confronted by a waiter, his glance settled on Raisa. She looked down quickly, and she didn't want to look again in case he was still surveying in her direction. Privately she felt a flutter in her stomach.

*

Nikos arrived a few minutes early, dressed in light grey trousers and a wine-coloured smart shirt. As Klaus rose to greet him and introduce Valerie, Nikos smiled, took her hand and kissed it gently.

"I'm honoured to meet you Mrs Becker, and I hope we will have an enjoyable meal as well as a fruitful business talk this evening. Am I allowed to congratulate you on your dress? It is very unusual and very elegant."

Valerie glanced at Klaus and then sat down, beckoning the two men to do so. Klaus had already poured some of the wine which Aron had donated, and asked Nikos if he preferred something else.

"I will have some of the wine later, if that's ok, I'd rather start with something light, perhaps a tonic water."

Having got most of the small talk out of the way, Nikos said he'd contacted his legal man and they had come up with a proposal for Klaus to consider. He was given the green light to sketch in the general outline of his idea, when Klaus' mobile vibrated. He checked the caller's name and apologised.

"I am very sorry, I need to take this. I should not be long on the phone, but if you could excuse me, it would be more convenient to speak with my caller in the lobby."

Valerie gave him a disapproving look, turning to Nikos.

"He is so rude at times, without knowing it. Whenever one of his female assistants calls with some minor decision, he believes only he can authorise it. I have no idea why he pays them so much, they cannot seem to think for themselves."

"It's no problem, really. We can speak about my proposal later. I just thought if we got it out of the way we could then enjoy the rest of the evening."

"I suppose you are right, Nikos. Do you have any children?"

"Yes, I have one son. He is currently training in the Greek army. I didn't want him to become a soldier, but he didn't want to follow his father into such a high pressure occupation. Maybe we are both right."

She studied him while he elaborated on the Greek financial crisis. He wasn't speaking of the bailout details, rather the suffering of ordinary people, most of whom felt they had been hoodwinked by their own government. He spoke with controlled passion and became quite tearful over a couple of first-hand experiences.

Valerie listened intently, even though Klaus was still on walkabout. She picked up on the fact that Nikos had never mentioned his wife.

"It would have been nice if Klaus had thought to invite your wife tonight, he never thinks of anything but business matters."

"Unfortunately my wife died some years ago. Perhaps if she had still been with us, our son would not have chosen the army. He definitely misses his mother's guiding hand."

"Oh, please forgive me. That is so very sad to hear, I am very sorry."

"It's not something which can be changed so I have to cope with it. At first I couldn't really speak about her passing, but my son had to be able to understand how we both needed to keep the best of our memories of her. And then use them as reminders of how she would have done certain things differently to either of us. It has gradually got easier, but she's still there."

Completely out of character, Valerie instinctively reached over the table and squeezed his hand.

"Then you must make sure you get the best advice if you are serious about entering into a business relationship with Klaus. He is... how can I say it? He is two different people at times. Ruthless in pursuit of his plans, but compassionate when he knows he has gone too far in treating people like computers. So, he is still talking, we should change the subject."

"That's a good idea. What did you do before you met your husband?"

"I was a marathon runner, but not anymore."

"Really, well, in my younger days I was running in five thousand metre races. I never got into the national team but I enjoyed the sport. It helps to build values in people, but that's only in my opinion."

"I certainly agree with you there. In fact I did make it to the German team, but I began to suffer with my hips. So, my ambitions had to be abandoned."

"Wait a second, Valerie? Valerie? Your name before you were married, it wasn't Valerie Klein, was it?"

"Yes, it was indeed. You've heard of me then?"

"Absolutely, I still take an interest in athletics. Maybe I'm wrong but, about two years ago I think I read that you were one of the favourites for the Rio de Janeiro Olympics."

"Sadly that was the case then, but my body was apparently crumbling under the uneven pounding action of my stride pattern. So, here I am now."

It was now the turn of Nikos to grip her hand.

"You must be devastated. All clean athletes seem to be able to cope with disappointment in performance and irritating injuries, but your situation seems so unfair. Look, I'm going to have some wine, to drink to a courageous woman."

Finally, Klaus returned and apologised again. He was now in full-on mode to hear Nikos' idea. Strangely, Valerie waved her finger at him.

"Not yet, Klaus. We have been talking about life, not balance sheets. You have to wait your turn."

She then continued to explain to a fellow athlete how she was able to deal with her disappointment at losing the very thing she had lived for day and night, over the last ten years. Klaus accepted her rebuke, but sat with a glazed expression, as he'd heard the story countless times already. In the middle of a sentence, describing the day she was told her running career was essentially over, she felt something from under the table. Nikos had pressed his foot and lower leg against hers. He kept it there while she talked. She didn't retract hers, she liked the feeling that someone who understood her inner thoughts, really cared. When Klaus headed for the restroom, Nikos and Valerie smiled at each other and held hands again briefly. The wine glasses were refilled without another word being spoken.

*

Rolf eventually saw the man he was looking for. The head waiter responded to his wave.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"I hope so, I was just wondering about a man I have seen a couple of times in the hotel, he appeared to be selling flowers."

The head waiter's body language was distinctly defensive, almost as if he'd been told that Rolf was the new owner.

"No, not selling flowers, sir, giving them to residents. Is there a problem?"

"No, it just occurred to me that there was no exchange of money, and that aroused my curiosity. They were lovely flowers. Do you happen to know his name?"

"Yes, sir, well I mean I can get it for you."

"Alfredo, what is the name of the flower man?"

The junior waiter replied instantly. "Mehmet Emre."

Rolf looked at the head waiter.

"Isn't that a Turkish name?"

"Indeed, sir. But his family is originally Greek. It has something to do with the forced migration policy back in the early 1900's. Before my time, but I remember my grandfather talking about it. Are you trying to find this man? If you are, he has a little flower shop in a side street near the bottom of the main shopping lane."

"Oh, Ok, then I may call into his shop when I get time. Thanks for your help."

Rolf called Jean in his room to say he needed a few more minutes.

"Sorry, but I want to have a brief word with Gonzales again. It should only take a few minutes. See you in reception."

"You could still die from green gas poisoning in a few seconds if you get too close. Make sure it is you that does the talking. The last thing I want is to have a sick passenger at my table tonight. I was hoping to see your charm snare a couple of beauties in the soft evening breeze, not have you looking like one of the undead."

# Chapter 12

Chaos and Connectivity

Raisa was both relieved and disappointed that Rolf had vanished so quickly. That kind of attraction was from afar, and was safe. At least that's what she told herself. Back to reality, she blurted out a direct question.

"So, Mum. Did you enjoy the primitive little villages today?"

Stefano responded, trying to avoid untruths.

"No, we didn't get that far, really."

"Why was that?"

Aron flashed his wife a 'don't go there please' signal. It was brushed aside.

"Well?"

This time Bianca got in first.

"We got lost."

"But you have Satnav in the car, how did you get lost?"

Stefano tried to answer a question that hadn't been asked.

"Did you know there was another, actually nicer beach just along from Banana? Your Mum saw that it had been recommended on the map we got from this hotel. It's certainly worth visiting, isn't it, Bianca?"

"Yes, indeed, we had lots of delicious fruit there. I think we'll be going back."

Raisa thought it was too early for checkmate, and so she prolonged the pretence.

"I think that must have been the beach we sailed past on the cruiser, wasn't it, Aron?"

"I can't remember to be honest. I was full of wine and the sun was in my eyes most of the way."

"Yes, but surely you can't have forgotten the little cove next to it? The crew on our boat and the other passengers brought our attention to that couple who were having rampant sex, even if the sun was in your eyes we could hear her moaning and groaning, and obviously wanting more."

"Ah, yes, I vaguely recall the groaning."

Stefano was prepared to confess, but Bianca merely said, "Sounds rather tempting don't you think, Raisa? Probably just young people incapable of holding back their hormonal urges."

"No, not really, one of the men on the boat had binoculars, and he said they were actually middle-aged people. What's that all about?"

"Raisa," urged Aron, trying to halt the humiliation right there, "it's not a big deal, is it? I mean it could be a once in a lifetime thing. They weren't harming anybody, were they?"

Stefano excused himself to visit the facilities. Bianca held firm.

"As a middle aged person myself, Raisa, I don't consider that side of my life to be over, and neither should you think that way about other people. I don't know if my cancer will return, so I have to take every day as a bonus. If I have to live every decision I make through the eyes of people I don't know, and never will, what's the point of fighting this disease? Now I have a question. Did you look through the binoculars?"

"Yes."

"Well, why the hell didn't you say so? And yes, we will be going back there. Would you like to know the day and time, so that you can watch again? Why the cloak and dagger stuff? Your Dad is upset that you may have seen us, but I'm not in the least bothered about it. If you'd just asked outright I would have been shocked, but then I can still laugh about it. Maybe you should get off your moral pedestal and remember that Stefano and I have sacrificed a lot of things to give you a good upbringing. You could just be happy for us, because we're still so much in love that we can go back to Abelakia, despite the way you've embarrassed him. We can just forget you brought this up. I don't think that we would have mentioned it if the roles had been reversed, and you had been having sex on that tiny, hidden cove. Please don't ruin the rest of this holiday for your Dad. I've never seen him so happy and relaxed since we chose you at that awful children's home. That's all I ask."

Aron agreed.

"Come on, Raisa, it's not much to ask. It doesn't change who Stef and Bianca are, they're two folks who love you, and in my opinion, my respect for them has gone up immensely. Let's leave it there."

She nodded and gripped Bianca's hand. The tears welled up but were contained as Stefano came back. A burst of laughter pricked the tense atmosphere, as he declared that he didn't want dessert.

"I fancy a cold beer on the harbour front. I'd like to do a little people watching myself. Anybody up for that?"

It was unanimous.

*

At last, Klaus had been able to redirect the conversation to the potential business partnership. This prompted Nikos to retrieve the paper from his pocket.

"It's just a first draft to cover the main points. It raises relevant questions rather than defining procedures, that kind of stuff can come later."

Klaus studied it meticulously, read it out loud so that Valerie could hear the entire proposal, and then put it back in front of Nikos.

"Well, my friend, I think my wife and I need to sleep on this. I want her to feel comfortable with the whole idea. Can I get back to you in the morning?"

"Of course. I'd better leave you to discuss it in private then. It's been a pleasure to dine with you."

"It is still quite early," remarked Valerie, "Klaus and I can talk about the concept later. I told my husband that I have less pain in this climate and I want to make the best of it, by walking out. Can we invite you to a nightcap in the town? Please, you must not feel obligated, but I am intent on going to see the harbour lights."

"Maybe Nikos has things to attend to at home, Valerie. Perhaps we have taken up too much of his time already."

"No not at all," replied Nikos, "my first responsibility is to get to work on time tomorrow. One more drink would be fine."

They sauntered slowly to the sea front, and Nikos made an alternative suggestion.

"Look to the right, at the end of this road, a set of very old broad steps rise up to the church. There are bars and tavernas there, with cushions for sitting, as well as chairs. It's all lit up and people are just lounging on the steps while music plays and the bars bring the drinks. It's really a unique atmosphere. Can I tempt you?"

"It sounds wonderful, I want to go," said Valerie, "come on Klaus, can you not keep up?"

They were quite astonished by the mix of ages and soft music on offer. The whole scene depicted relaxed but organised chaos. An hour passed and Nikos said he should really think about leaving. Valerie had an impulse which she acted upon.

"You know, Klaus, when you spoke earlier about a holiday home to ease my arthritis, I was not completely sure, but this place is absolutely fabulous. I think we should definitely look at a few properties here."

This was music to Klaus' ears and he smiled with genuine approval, giving Valerie impetus to go one step further.

"Do you know any reliable real estate agents, Nikos? A little local inside knowledge might help us through the maze of property laws."

"Yes, I can put you in touch with the best ones. I'll arrange for someone to call you tomorrow, if that's convenient." Valerie said it was.

*

The chat with Gonzales was brief in the extreme. He denied leaking any hint that Rolf was the new owner of the establishment. A silence prevailed for long enough to elicit a modified statement. "Of course I had to prevent the chef from quitting. He did not like Vermont, and as you know, neither did I. He is a top chef and it would have been stupid to simply let him go when the reason he gave was already not relevant anymore. I apologise if that action appears to have broken your trust in me, but I think you would have regretted losing Garcia."

Gonzales had spoken long enough within range to asphyxiate an elephant. Rolf conveyed his agreement with the decision and left it at that.

He caught up with Jean in the bar, rather than reception, and dragged him out despite his friend's protest at leaving half of his drink.

"What the hell is the rush? I thought we were going to have one here before eating."

"Yes, that was the plan but things worked out better than I expected, so we can eat and get to a club where you can ogle some women. Did you know about this Greek flower man with a Turkish name?"

"I have no idea what the hell you are talking about."

"Well, apparently this guy gives away flowers all over the hotel, particularly the dining room. It seems kosher but feels wrong. Normal flower sellers are pushy, expensive, and do all the restaurants and hotels they can. The only place I remember seeing this guy is in the Paradiso. He is supposed to have a shop near the harbour, so I thought we could make a slight detour and check him out."

"Rolf, I did specify that our 'we time' should definitely not be compromised if this was going to work. We made an arrangement, see your flower pot man tomorrow."

"Two minutes, Jean, I promise. And I will try extra hard to get some lady to see the person underneath your brash exterior, but then again, maybe that is a crap idea."

They found the man in question busy locking up his shop for the night, presumably then heading for the Paradiso.

"Excuse me, is it Mehmet?"

"Yes, sir. You are looking for me?"

"I...sorry, my friend and I are staying at the Paradiso, and I noticed you go there quite often with flowers."

"You want to buy flowers? I have to say sorry, but I have just closed for the evening. But I can give you one flower each, please take the one you like best."

"Why do you give them without asking for something in return?"

"I like to promote my shop and I give samples every time I can. People are not wanting to be pestered when they are eating, but just leaving a flower takes no time and almost all of them like the idea, it is very romantic, you see, without the direct commercial link. If they ask about or see my shop, many of them buy more flowers for their room or just for their beauty. I am the only one working here and it suits me to do my business like this. Has there been a problem?"

"No, I was curious, that was all. And you do this in other hotels and restaurants?"

"Not so much, I only need a small amount of money to live. I am alone you see, and I want to bring happiness to the time I have left. If I can get paid a little bit of money for it, I get happy. At first the staff at the hotel were worried that I was selling the flowers, but now they think it helps with the... what is the word? Atmosphere? Something like that. It makes for less complaining if the food takes a little longer to bring to the table. It soothes the soul."

"Ok, Mehmet, I suppose we may see you again then. Good luck."

"That is where I am going now. I have a trailer on the back of my scooter, and a van, all ready with some special ones. It is a night for pink. The ladies love pink flowers. None of them will refuse a flower tonight. Are you sure you would not take one? They can be a good introduction if you and your friend want to speak with girls tonight."

"Maybe some other time, Mehmet, but thanks for the offer."

Jean bought into the sales pitch immediately.

"There is absolutely no harm in taking one flower with us, Rolf. I need all the help I can get. I would like one, Mehmet, thanks."

Rolf wasn't too happy strolling past the harbour with a guy holding a single pink rose.

# Chapter 13

Winds of Change

As they sat on the steps, having chosen the particular style and colour of the cushion which was to be their reclining option, the alcohol had begun its lubricating effect on moral judgements.

Raisa giggled every few minutes, while refusing to close the subject of sex on the beach.

"Let me try again, Mum, you haven't had sex for about five years, then you come to Skiathos as some kind of chaperone for your daughter, even though she's with her husband. You gobsmacked us by disrobing on the nudist beach, and even stood in a queue at the ice cream kiosk while dirty old men checked you out. And then you pretend the satnav wasn't working so you could conceal your rampant libido, and you say it's because of the magical effect of this island. I want to hear what Dad has to say about it?"

Stefano shook his head.

"I'm just as confused as you are, darling. But I'm not complaining. Your mother has a way of making these things seem natural. I should be worried about the next few days, but here I am, feeling many years younger and salivating with anticipation. I hope you don't mind me saying that you and Aron should try to forget we're here. Do your own thing. By the time you get to my age, you'll wonder how your life ran away so quickly. No regrets, that's my new philosophy."

Raisa looked at Aron.

"Are you going to tell them, or do you want me to?"

"Go ahead, it'll ultimately be you that decides anyway."

She cleared her throat.

"Aron and I have had a spell during which we seem to have lost our way. All of the reasons that brought us together and finally convinced us that we should get married, gradually got submerged. He admits to being more like you two in terms of indulging in physical recipes for waning sexual appetite. I seem to be the odd one out. I'm different in many ways, but I find it difficult to share my body unless I feel I'm not being taken seriously about needing trust, even while the thrusters are engaged and speeding up. There's a connection inside me, which I can't seem to let go. I can see from the outside that it's a contradiction to lose yourself in passion if all your life has been moulded around being in control. Doing something about it is another matter. Aron feels that trying to overcompensate by indulging in things like bonking on the beach would break my pent up resistance. I don't think control works like that. I'm very worried that it will just make things worse. Before we actually set off on holiday, I agreed to try what he advised, then I grabbed the parachute of dragging my parents along. If his Willy hadn't been bitten, we'd probably have been on a cove like yours already. He still wants me to do this. There, I've said it, and our secret is out in the open. Actually, it's a relief that someone else other than Aron and I know about it now. I'm having another drink, anyone else? Maybe my parents have allowed me to see by their example rather than by lecturing me. If I hadn't seen the two of you, gyrating away, oblivious to everything else in the world, I wouldn't have been so upset, but I was, because that's precisely what I wanted to happen for me. Monologue over, just get well soon, Aron."

The mirth was spreading, just as Raisa caught sight of Rolf and Jean heading towards the steps. She'd had enough alcohol to dispel any guilt about her juices beginning to stir again. None of the others noticed the dynamic duo approaching, even though one of them was carrying a pink flower.

Jean had reached his tolerance level of people pointing at the lovingly held rose. It was serendipitous that he was ready to fling it into the crowd when he saw Raisa. He sidestepped a few cushioned revellers and bowed as he mimicked a mediaeval suitor.

"Madam, a token of my silent admiration, which at last I have the courage to admit. Seriously though, I seem to be the only item on the joke menu, parading along like an innocent page boy. My friend is getting paranoid, just being in my company. Will you accept this exquisite rose? Wait a minute, but have I not seen you at the Paradiso?"

They all grinned and she took the flower. Avoiding eye contact with anyone but Jean, she replied.

"You're very observant. In fact, we're all staying at the Paradiso, and thank you for this gift, which you can't wait to get rid of. Enjoy the rest of your night out. And to what name do I devote my appreciation of my rose?"

"Jean Vermont, and my friend here is Rolf Pirez. Till another time then."

As they disappeared down the street, Raisa just knew her mother was going to ruin the moment.

"Now there's a man if ever I saw one."

Stefano added to the almost surreal comment.

"He gave me the creeps. Surely I'm not the only one who thinks he's a pretentious arsehole."

"I think she meant the other guy, Stef," said Aron, "you really have had enough to drink."

"The other guy," cooed Bianca, "now we know his name, he's Rolf. Suitably masculine, and distant. Come on Stefano, before I go running after him. If only."

*

"Valerie, why did you ask Nikos to recommend estate agents to us? He is a potential business partner, and as such I do not want him knowing any more about our lives than he has to. We should find our own real estate people."

"You just took off when your phone rang, leaving me to talk to a complete stranger, and now it seems to be all my fault. As it happens, he is a really decent man and I would probably trust his judgement over some bullshitting salesman who is only interested in his percentage of any kickback from a vendor. You wanted me to give this idea a lot of thought, and it certainly seems that you have done the opposite, you have given it precisely none. I can handle it from here. Anyway, who was on the phone to you? It took a hell of a long time."

Klaus was pensive.

"It was the banker back in Koblenz. Moving money to anywhere in Greece at this time raises eyebrows. He wanted to spell out the risks, at which point I told him that I was not exactly wet behind the ears, and to just get on with the transaction. He eventually persuaded me to do it in smaller tranches, so I had to give projections of when and how much for each instalment. Anyway, I am in agreement with you about the property, I leave that to you. I should simply concentrate on the new rental business for now."

Valerie's instinct told her that her husband was not telling her everything about the phone call, but decided to leave it for now. As they arrived back at the Paradiso, they were met by Mehmet, who graciously explained that he had a flower for every lady who was resident at the hotel.

"Please choose one you like and you will make an old man happy. I do not want any money from you, in fact I would be insulted if you offered. Sleep well, and I hope to see you again."

For the second time in one evening, Valerie was touched by the humanity of the strangers she had met. Klaus could, in her mind, enjoy so much more about life if he occasionally alighted from the rat race and treated her more like a person than a possession

*

After a couple of hours of clubbing in sparsely populated establishments, Jean accepted that it was early in the season and the beautiful people were at least three weeks away. The two of them wearily trod back to base, where Rolf noticed that Mehmet was still sitting at the entrance.

"Are you still here? I think you are wasting your time, my friend. I cannot see anyone else coming back to the Paradiso after us. The town is sleeping, surely you need your bed?"

"You may be right. I fell asleep a few times already. But I have only loneliness at home."

Jean wasn't up for caring for others in the small hours and said he was going to his room. Rolf nodded and turned back to the old man.

"You must work at least eighteen hours a day. Do you have any family?"

"Not any more. That was a long time ago."

"I feel sorry to hear that, would you like me to walk back to the shop with you, just to be safe?"

"Thank you but I will not accept. I have been living by myself for more years than I can remember."

"Really, why is that?"

"The story is too long for tonight. Someday I can explain if you are truly interested. I will let you get to your bed. My story goes back to what they called 'the great resettlement' and the terrible mess it made of thousands of people's lives. Why do we believe these government mandarins?"

"You know, Mehmet, I would love to hear the full story. So, maybe we can meet from time to time and have a coffee, while you tell me each episode. I insist on walking back to the shop with you and you can tell me about how all of this mess you talk about got started."

"Very well. I should begin by explaining where I came from. My family, when I was a young boy, lived in Turkey, close to the border with Greece. We always lived like a Greek family, except for religion. My grandparents converted to Islam when they were young, and that was how it would stay. We were Greek Muslims. Then along came the Balkan wars in 1912, when for the first time in the 20th century, huge numbers of people were displaced. The first to be picked out in that region were Muslims. The end of the First World War in 1918, and the Greek-Turkish War in 1922 led to a total territorial restructuring...is that the right word? I think so, restructuring of the region. The next step was not a surprise, there were compulsory movements of large numbers of the population, in both countries. This policy was, according to the local officials, based on the Treaty of Lausanne signed in 1923, an agreement between Greece and the estimated 350,000 Turks who were living in Greece. I think that is enough for tonight. You are right. I am tired and I do not want to tell you mistakes. Can we have a coffee sometime? I will make it at the flower shop. It has to be that way because I cannot leave it closed during the day. Do you agree?"

"No problem," said Rolf, "you have got me hooked already. Goodnight, Mehmet."

As he trailed back to the hotel, Rolf reflected on his own life. It hadn't all been uneventful, there were seismic incidents. They were, however not like the background of Mehmet's story which was preceded by masses of people being utterly disenfranchised, courtesy of a bunch of 'military cartographers'.

He turned into the hotel gardens and noticed a light on the top floor, the rest of that floor was in total darkness. She was on the balcony. Raisa was deep in thought, which was disturbed by the figure approaching the entrance. Then she knew it was him. She waved hesitantly. Rolf returned the greeting and remarked that the sun would rise pretty soon. She smiled and went back to the suite, only to find that Aron had succumbed to the excess of alcohol and was already snoring. An impulse drew her to the shower. A cool trickle of water appealed to her. As she applied the body wash, there was the odd brush with her inner thighs. Closing her eyes assisted the compulsion to linger. Her pulse began to rise, the vision became a pursuit, and she was already heading for the point of no return. It all happened rather suddenly despite her desperation to hold on to the moment. Sliding down on to the shower floor and letting the water run through her hair provided space to admit what had really happened. It was by no means the first time she'd felt the need to go solo, but it had never been so intense.

# Chapter 14

Against All Odds

A second phone call from the bank in Koblenz alerted Klaus to the possibility of his transfer of funds becoming a huge risk. This call wasn't from the same person, it was from the chief executive of the entire multinational group. He'd had a tip off that the next upcoming bailout for the Greek economy, of which Germany would contribute the largest amount of any Eurozone country, was actually being considered as only a sticking plaster on a gaping wound. His source was very close to the top of the German government, and could not be named, in any language, so he said what he could in German.

" _I'm only calling you because you are one of our most important and loyal customers. The exit of Greece from the Euro can be likened to an explosive device. The detonation is inevitable, whichever route is taken. The single currency is unsustainable across countries so diverse in GDP contribution, yet having the rights to unaffordable social benefits, simply by having membership of the club. This is not a recent conclusion, and the 'solution' is one which has been stage-managed for some time, to soften the reaction of the markets to mini-peaks of uncertainty. There was always going to be a moment when the risk of overloading the vessel with passengers could sink the ship. The buoyancy is now compromised and the engine can no longer deliver forward momentum. It appears that we have reached that predicted point, and the next bailout will be priced into the Greek exit. In other words, it will never be paid back, it is actually being written off 'in advance'. What I am now about to tell you is in the strictest confidence and it must command your total respect. The European Central Bank is shitting itself, and yet cannot make headway against the ivory tower which is represented by the bureaucrats of Brussels. As a consequence, they are negotiating a lower cap of government guarantee to customers of failed banks. Fortunately, the bank I represent is not exposed to much Greek debt, or bonds of that nation. However, some of our competitors are, and things will get very nasty, very soon. You don't need me to state that with a blanket lowering of the cap guarantee, it is the wealthy who lose the most. In reverse, of course, our strategy has always been to look after the ten percent of the people who have ninety percent of the wealth, so we have prepared for this, and we will not fail. The banks which are most vulnerable are those with very few wealthy clients, and unfortunately they are the same ones which have risky investments in Greece. It doesn't stop there, as a contagion is likely, and other struggling economies may well get sucked into this spiral. My call is to advise you that you should put aside the proposed funds you wanted us to transfer to a Greek account. I suggest you move them into a separate account with us, and leave them there as collateral for now. I suggest this because you may well find that Greek banks, if they still exist in the next few months, place an embargo on withdrawals, allowing only grossly inadequate subsistence levels per day. This has already happened once, after their last referendum, but it will become much worse. In order to protect clients like yourself, we are already preparing a ring-fenced central fund to ride out the storm. It may mean a temporary drop in return for you, but just as it is for the bank itself, it is a survival measure. If I can make one further suggestion, it would be for you to get back to Koblenz, so that we can convene a seminar for all blue-chip clients. There are ways in which we can offset the lower returns I mentioned, but we need consensus, because we don't have much time to play with, and as a consequence, we can't therefore have multiple bespoke_ _strategies for every client. Can I count on you being in Koblenz in two days?"_

Klaus was shell-shocked, but locked on to the advice.

" _I will arrange a flight from Athens right away. I will then let you know of my arrival time as soon as I can."_

When he recounted this to Valerie, she stared blankly at the floor.

"I feel dreadful about this, darling, but our entire lifetime security could be wiped out at a stroke if I do not go. You should stay, that is, if you prefer to, and I will certainly return as soon as humanly possible."

"Ok, but do I have to cancel any property search for now?"

"There cannot be any harm in looking. I am unable to know how much we will have to play with until the shit hits the fan, and how much of it has then been hosed down the drain."

"I suppose it will occupy my mind until you return. You had better check the flights right away."

*

The fog of mind percolating over the breakfast table accounted for the relative silence of Stefano, Bianca and Aron. Raisa appeared to be the least hungover, and the keenest to plan the day.

"Let's all go to Skopelos this morning before it gets too hot."

It elicited an unspoken response from Aron. He simply mimicked throwing up. Stefano was also lukewarm about riding the white-tops, but then thought about the alternatives. He didn't feel like driving, and Raisa was right, the temperature was predicted to rocket by the afternoon.

"As long as we get back to laze by the pool and guzzle iced drinks before two o'clock."

Raisa looked at Bianca, who finally responded.

"What? As long as you don't let me drink any booze," said her mother, "and make me sit in the shade. Promise me, Raisa."

"Fine, it's settled then. What are you going to do Aron?"

"Not much I suppose, I might take a stroll to the hospital. My pork sword is throbbing more than ever. I'm not sure they gave me the proper cream to put on it. They said the pain would fade away over twenty-four hours. And this bloody lump on the left side is getting bigger, maybe it needs to be lanced. It's turned a yellowish purple now, and I think it..."

Raisa interjected.

"We don't need you to draw a picture, honey. We're trying to get some food into our system before taking the ferry. Should I drive you there after breakfast?"

"No, I'll walk. If they can't find anything wrong, I'll just come back here and stand in the pool. Having it floating and bobbing in the water seems to help. Don't worry about me. Off you go, then. The ferries seem to get crowded, otherwise I might have joined you. I would dread someone bumping into my wounded soldier."

The other three finished their cereals and croissants, agreed to meet in the car park in ten minutes, and left Aron to make his way to hospital. As he shuffled gingerly towards reception, he caught sight of Rolf and Jean, apparently having a disagreement about something.

"Hi Guys, did you have a good bash last night then?"

"Not a chance," said Jean, "the season has not picked up yet. I think we would do better just sitting on the cushions where you were. Hey, I hope you were ok with me giving your wife the flower. Or are you pissed off with me? I mean, it was only a bit of fun and a pink rose?"

"Of course not, but I think I should warn your friend that my mother-in-law has the hots for him."

Rolf didn't react, but Jean elaborated.

"He has that effect on all women. He never needs to try too hard, some of them even try to pull him, not very fair on mere mortals such as us, my friend?"

"Yeah, I could do with a sprinkle of stardust."

"But you are wearing a wedding ring," said Rolf, pointing at Aron's left hand. "Are you not married?"

"Sure, but they say it's possible to have enjoyed the best meal in the world, but that doesn't mean you can't look at the menu again. I'm just joking, guys, one woman is enough of a challenge for me. Maybe we'll see you again on the steps sometime. It's Jean and Rolf, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," replied Jean, "you do know who he is, I am sure you do?"

"Zip it, Jean," shouted Rolf, his face displaying intense anger, "we still have something to sort out. Please excuse us, err... sorry, I am afraid I must have forgotten your name."

"Aron, I'm sorry I intruded into your conversation, I was only trying to be friendly. Another time then."

*

As Aron limped off in the direction of the hospital, Jean tried to apologise, but his entreaty was rebuffed.

"Listen for once instead of worshiping your own voice. I told you I would only accept your deception of me playing owner if you did **not** mention it to anyone. What is it that makes you fuck everything up, Jean? I cannot trust you to stick to your word any more. You want me to fail, is that it? Well, you have achieved your plan. I took up the challenge and now I quit."

Rolf walked off to the harbour front, with Jean frantically trying to pour water on the flames.

"Whoa, wait, wait, Rolf. You have no idea what it is like to be me. Just hear me out, just listen to me for one minute, that is not so unreasonable, is it?"

Rolf turned and glared at this diminutive yet unpredictably volcanic creature, which somehow held a grip over him, a suffocating illogical clamp.

"Disappear, shit for brains. When we were clubbing last night, you dropped your surprise on me. After complaining many times about me interrupting 'our time' together, you then hint that you may want to go back to France, like immediately, but without me. That was not the deal, remember. And then you start to blurt out that I am now the owner, to some punter who would have broadcast it within minutes. It is over already Jean. Actually, I was on my way to see someone I can have a sensible conversation with, at least Mehmet has stuff to talk about which is interesting. Nothing you ever say is remotely worth remembering. Just take your cruiser and sod off. Oh, you cannot, can you? It takes at least two to handle her, even in calm seas."

"That is why I asked you to hear me out, you never gave me a chance to tell you I was not intending to go back to France by sea. I have no wish to go at all. My bloody father called my mobile and said I must get to Marseille by plane. There is some kind of extraordinary board meeting and he insists I attend. That has never happened before, and he refused to elaborate. So, you impetuous clown, I was going to tell you to look after the cruiser until my return. I honestly think this is more important for me, and you, than listening to some old fart's life story."

There ensued a gap in the vocal exchange. Jean shrugged his shoulders and gestured that he'd like a reply.

"Fine, go to Marseille. I will see to the boat and the hotel, but I want to know when you expect to be coming back one hour after your arse lands in France. Just go, and for your information I can hardly wait to hear that old fart's story."

They separated with an uneasy truce.

*

"Hello, Mehmet, is it a bad time?"

"It is not, but you may have to help me with the display. Is that acceptable?"

"Sure, just tell me what to do."

Mehmet talked as they arranged the day's special bunches of flowers.

"That terrible Treaty of Lausanne served as a model for many later resettlements, even those which were resisted violently, it was aimed at stopping all ethnic mixing in the region. Although the Turks living in Greece had been consulted about the resettlement, the government already knew they would support it. My family, living in Turkey, with many others, were against it, but were never consulted. I must tell you that my great, great grandfather had the family name Keriakis, but his wife only had daughters, and this meant that the family name was lost. When the daughters married, their names all changed. That is why I am called by the family name Emre.

"This policy of stopping the ethnic mixing had dramatic consequences for the persons, cities and regions affected. It made a huge impact on every little thing in the lives of the people. The coloured mosaic of areas in which people of different ethnic origin lived together was destroyed in the long term, and the principle of ethnic cleansing was born. People had to give up homes in which their ancestors had lived for centuries. In the case of Greece and Turkey, there was much proof of this. The Greek community of Smyrnas was destroyed in 1922/23, and Smyrna became the Turkish Izmir. Saloniki, which had a large Muslim minority until 1923, became the Greek Thessaloniki, but without the Muslims. Sorry, but I still get emotional, so I think that will do for now. Anyway we have finished the displays, maybe I will see you tonight. If we meet, I can explain where I lived in Greece and why I came here."

# Chapter 15

Square Pegs in Shallow Holes

Jean dashed from the taxi, through the automatic doors of the small airport building, and fumbled with a handful of documents, spilling most of them on to the marble floor. He cursed under his breath as he was distracted by a heated argument, in English, at the check-in desk. He recognised Klaus from the Paradiso. Finally, having gathered up his scattered flight authorisation papers, he walked over and asked if there was a problem.

"You could not make it up, could you? The reception at the hotel called the airport here to get me on a short flight to Athens, and these clowns said they had reserved a seat for me. Now that I have arrived to claim my boarding card, they say they could not hold the seat without payment. I told them I would be here in under ten minutes, the hotel is only a damned mile away, and I said I would pay in cash. They agreed that it would be quicker than going through all of the details on the phone. I get here in under five minutes and the idiots have only sold the seat to someone else. The bloody aircraft is a mere six seater, it is now full, there is only one such flight each day, and I have to get a connecting flight to Dusseldorf from Athens. It is an extremely urgent emergency in Germany, otherwise I would not be making such a fuss."

"Well, you are in luck after all, my friend. I hired a light aircraft to get me to Athens. I have to go back to France. I am pretty sure we can get the paperwork altered to get you on board. Come with me."

The small plane trundled slowly along the tarmac into a holding position, waiting for clearance to take off.

"What exactly is the problem in Germany, if you do not mind me asking? You were ready to blow a valve back there."

"Yes, I do see the red mist when I run into stupid bureaucratic road blocks. Are you not the owner of the Paradiso? I overheard someone when they pointed you out, you were making some announcement in the ballroom unless I am mistaken."

"In a way, I suppose, but I try to be very much a 'hands off' person. I hope your stay has not been spoiled by this dash back to Germany."

"That, I fear, I will only know when I get there. But, rest assured, it has nothing to do with the hotel, the place is superb, and I hope I will be on my way back as soon as I fix the mess in Germany. My wife is still there. My panic was only in connection with a board meeting which has been brought forward. Things appear to have escalated in this potential bankruptcy hanging over Greece. What is your take on the bailout situation?"

"Sorry, but I am afraid that stuff is beyond my comprehension, but maybe you have just given me a clue as to why I myself have been hauled back to France. My father is a big shot in the energy world, well, in green energy anyway. He never asks me to get involved in the business, so I mess about with minor projects, like the Paradiso. He would never tell me over the phone why I had to drop everything and get back to Marseille. One thing is certain though, he will not be asking my opinion, he will be telling me what I have to do. Is the Greek situation really as serious as I think you are telling me?"

"It seems to be coming to squeaky bum time, I suppose we all knew that the criteria to be met for bringing countries into the single currency has never really been enforced. The politicians broke their own rules, but they can never admit they were wrong, and more to the point, that they alone are to blame for the whole fiasco. You cannot compromise on the foundations of the house in order to spend extra resource on a grossly underperforming roof. My sources tell me that it may not stop at Greece; maybe Spain, Portugal, Ireland, and even Italy, might get caught up in any necessary restructuring. The overall ability of the European Union to withstand more begging bowls will soon collapse. None of us are in a safe place right now. Such an ambitious move to 'federalism' requires much longer than a few decades to achieve fiscal and production harmony. But that has the disadvantage for the politicians of not conferring their desired legacy in their own lifetime. What they are facing now is being seen as the pariahs they really are."

"That is very useful for me to know. I feel better prepared for whatever my father might throw at me. When do you expect to return?"

"I cannot be sure how my meeting will go, so I will not be too rigid about leaving Koblenz, especially if I have to take draconian action."

"Right. You seem to have a keen grip on these macro-economic shifts. I would certainly appreciate running any instructions from my father past you when we both get back. Is that too much to ask?"

"Hey, you got me out of deep shit, I will not forget that in a hurry. Let us talk over a beer in the Paradiso, hopefully in a couple of days or so."

*

Aron had to wait almost two hours to see a doctor. In the meantime he texted Raisa to see how the ferry crossing had worked out. She'd said it was very smooth and exceptionally picturesque. They'd just disembarked and were busy looking for a nice place to have coffee. She hinted that her parents were quite taken with the unspoilt beauty of the island, and may come back to Skopelos, taking the car on to the ferry. His mind conjured up more coitus interruptus, with Bianca on top, and those nice breasts swaying in slow motion.

"Mister Aron Sinclair?"

His spell was broken but he didn't quite connect the dots of continuity.

"Yes, that's me doctor." He followed her into the examination room and was immediately in trouble. She was a very attractive young intern and the images of Bianca were still reaching his transponder, which was firming up nicely. He tried to make some excuse that he was quite a shy person, but the doctor wasn't having any.

"The hospital is quite busy, Mr Sinclair. Your notes say you have suffered a sting to your penis from a jellyfish, and you came back because it has become more painful than when it happened. Now please let me see your penis."

Nobody had ever commanded him to expose himself before, let alone a gorgeous young doctor. The combination of the authority and the white coat flashed an unwanted image, one in which she wasn't wearing anything underneath. He closed his eyes, dropped his shorts and began to babble some kind of apology. His raging erection faced resistance from the ever-growing lump, and resembled a 'no left turn' sign. The doctor called for a nurse, explaining to Aron at the same time that she couldn't examine his predicament without a witness.

She put on gloves, asked the nurse to do the same, and began to take photographs of the lump. The two women chattered away in Greek, and came to a preliminary announcement.

"We will have to take a tissue sample from the lump. We must be certain that there is no parasite in there."

His hard-on was just beginning to subside at the thought of a cock biopsy, when the doctor lifted the tip up a little further. The nurse produced an eyeglass and placed it in her colleague's hand. The doctor's face came closer to the lump and he tried to concentrate on anything but the white coat falling forward to reveal a red satin bra, holding firm against its very desirable contents. She muttered some indecipherable words, and he felt her warm breath ruffle his pubic hair. The resulting blood flow to the phallus was as effective as swallowing a whole box of Viagra, and the angle of the cannon rose again involuntarily. The doctor, unlike the nurse, was completely oblivious to his internal struggle, until she spotted a significant trickle of pre-cum.

"We will have to come back when you are more in control, Mr Sinclair. I will give you a sedative to help with this, then we will take our tissue sample."

All he could do was nod ashamedly, and pull up his shorts again. He was shown to a small room to the side and told to lie down. The needle delivered such serenity.

*

Valerie had already spoken to the real estate agent recommended by Nikos, when she walked into his car rental unit.

"Hello, Valerie, this is a pleasant surprise, please have a seat and I'll get you a coffee."

"An iced tea would be better, or is that too much trouble?"

He called one of the office staff to bring the drinks and inquired, "What can I do for you?"

"The lady estate agent says she has quite a few properties which might fit our requirements, but Klaus has been called back to Koblenz, and I feel a bit out of my depth in terms of what to check when buying a property here under Greek law. I am not sure when he will be back, so I was wondering if you might have time to guide me through the pitfalls, if I like any of the houses the agent shows me. I know you must be busy, but as I am quite the opposite, I can be available whenever it is convenient for you. I realise this is a lot to ask."

"I would be delighted to help in any way I can. You are wise to check into every sentence of small print when it comes to purchase of property here. Furthermore, when I can't obtain satisfactory answers from the agent, I can direct you to my personal solicitor to clarify the situation. When do you estimate Klaus will come back?"

"He does not know, and he will only know after he attends some meeting, but he asked me to get on with looking at whatever properties I thought suitable. It will help me fill in the time while he has to be away. The agent already mentioned four possible candidates for viewing. I have the names of the places but have no clue where they are. Maybe you can even tell me about the locations and I can get a feeling if any of them appeal to me."

"It might be better if I drive you to all of the places and you can see for yourself. We can actually drive around the whole island in well under two hours. That might be a better idea, you know, just look, get the feel of living there and then view properties at your preferred location. I can make time at about 4.30 this afternoon, would that be ok?"

"It is fantastic, but I must not prevail on your time during work, are you sure?"

"It's no problem, we cover the hours in relays, and I would be just going home for two hours to work in my garden. The pruning will wait until it is cooler. Do you want me to pick you up at the hotel?"

"Thank you, but no. I actually get more relief from walking when it is so warm. I enjoy taking as many different routes through the shops and restaurants as I can find. I will be back here at 4.30. Thanks for being so helpful, I will only speak to the agent again tomorrow."

# Chapter 16

Casting Spells

Klaus was whisked away from the airport to the offsite meeting in a small hotel, which was well off the beaten track. He was last to arrive and was quickly brought up to date with the discussion so far. He scoured the table and counted fourteen people, the chief executive introduced five of them, including himself, who worked for the bank. That left nine, three of whom he recognised from media coverage over the years. The remaining six, including himself were presumably owners or delegated heads of businesses similar in equity deposits to his.

The format was described as one to find working principles which found favour with the entire group. No numbers were to be mentioned as yet, and any way forward was to be within the fiscal governance law, although margins of compliance might be small in that respect.

Klaus listened for most of the time, only asking for clarification of definitions of unfamiliar terms. Because he'd already accepted the chief executive's advice to switch all of his intended Greek venture funds into another account, he had one less decision to make.

" _We have to move quickly but prudently,"_ said the C.E _. "and take cognisance of past mistakes such as conspiring to fix inter-bank lending rates. That is uppermost in my declaration that we will not be disclosing our proposed scheme to anyone, until it is totally fastened down and been cleared by the International Monetary Fund as ineligible for the grasping fingers of government to purloin. The European Central Bank will most likely challenge this, but it is extremely unlikely that their executives will be able to agree, in fact they will probably agree to disagree, and that kicks part of the threat into the long grass for months. We cannot afford to take funds which have_ _any_ _international creditors trying to hang on to them_. _Our fund can only accept_ _absolutely liquid tranches of money without liabilities, amortisation obligations, or any kind of such appendages. Our homework has been to identify such amounts, and here you are today. However, once you have heard the remaining detail of our ring-fencing strategy, you must sign an agreement which legally commits you to verify that your funds are unencumbered. Now, I can't be certain if you have other accounts with other banks, or if there are connections to funds deposited with us. You have to weigh up the complexity of breaking such a pledge. So, for anyone who does have such tangled chunks of apparent free cash, I have to say this scheme is not for you. If you have such concerns and do not want to sign up for the underpinning declaration of unfettered money, I will call a comfort break, so that people may excuse themselves anonymously. It can be for one or both of the reasons I mentioned."_

When they reassembled there were only two candidates to hear the next phase of the scheme. The C.E. seemed pretty happy that he'd flushed out potential defaulters, and asked one of his subordinates to continue. There was no magic wand, and the legality, if not the ethics of the suggestion, would need ratification before any money was moved. The speaker took a long drink of water and began.

" _Even if neither of you had stayed, we feel that we have discharged our duty of care to our important investors. The concept is brutally simple. We will offer you a safe haven in one of our branches in a location which is not considered to be at risk by a Greek exit. You will be guaranteed a better return than you currently enjoy. Once the size and collateral devastation of the tsunami has been evidenced, you will have the option of repatriating your funds. If you prefer to take advantage of a longer period of up to one year at that point it will be available. It would then be viewed as our bank paying itself a fair interest rate on safe funds for stipulated periods, with no_ _withdrawal option during that one year term_. _It is not an_ _interbank situation. We receive interest only, and pass that to you via a side agreement. You may also ask if this is not simply a method of protection for ourselves, and the answer would be - yes. Banks have been criticised in recent times regarding an accusation of greed, and of self-protection. We all, you and us, find ourselves put at risk by those who govern and regulate us. We, the bank, could take up the option of shifting money from Germany to another place without making this offer to you, and that would benefit us locally. We choose to look after your interests by forfeiting some of our allocation of fund transfer, if that is what you would like. So, we have forewarned all of our important clients of trouble ahead, made arrangements for securing our own equity, and at the same time we have made room for you as a choice, your choice. Thank you gentlemen."_

*

The trip to Skopelos had been largely uneventful, in contrast to Aron's self-effacing diagnosis at the hands of the medical staff. He was still there when the others got back to the hotel, and when Raisa found the room empty, no sign of him by the pool, or anywhere else he might be, she told her parents she was off to check the hospital.

Upon the advice of reception, she was asked to wait for the doctor to explain the next recommendations. She asked for the number of the consulting room in which her husband was being treated, and stridently walked to the door. It was fractionally ajar, and as she peeked through the gap, all she could see was a woman in a white coat apparently giving her husband a hand job. Judging by his moaning he wasn't really complaining, never mind protesting. She pulled the door open, only to realise it wasn't quite what she thought it was. There was a lot of blood, or there had been. The medical person had dressed the wound and was in the process of rolling on a surgical 'condom' to protect his post-operative incision. To make things worse, Raisa hadn't seen the nurse in the other corner of the room.

"Oh, excuse me, I didn't know..."

"Can you please leave the room, madam, we will be finished very soon. I assume you must know Mr Sinclair."

"Yes, I mean, I'm terribly sorry, I'm his wife. I'll just go now, outside, I'll wait there. Thank you. Hi, Aron."

The doctor came out, threw the disposable gloves into the clinical waste bin, and addressed Raisa.

"It is lucky your husband came back to see us. He had an embedded parasite in his penis. It is a rare type which secures itself by many tiny hooks and begins to feed on the surrounding flesh. It reproduces as a hermaphrodite, you know what that is?"

Raisa shook her head.

"It is both male and female, it can procreate itself. It must have been on one of the stingers of the jellyfish. It was not discovered when he first came here because it had not yet activated the antibodies. He will be fine for now, but it can take some months before he can be free from being sore. Do you have further questions? If not, you can speak with him now while I arrange for him to see a consultant."

"But you said he would be fine."

"No, I said he would be fine for now. As you can see, this hospital has only rudimentary equipment and treatment facilities. I cannot be sure that this parasite has not already laid eggs in your husband's penis. I have cleaned out the parasite and the wound as much as I can, but we have to be sure, and we do not have supplies of the drugs which are needed to be certain that there is no risk of more parasites being born."

"Oh no, then I should go back to our hotel for the car."

"That will not be necessary, he has to go to the airport by ambulance."

"Airport? Where are you taking him?"

"To Athens, the best consultant and facilities are there, and we do not have any time to waste. Please go and see your husband, I must make the arrangements."

Raisa found it difficult to stem the tears. Aron was still groggy from the sedative and lay motionless on the bed with the nurse as a sentry.

"So, you're back already. Your parents liked Skopelos. What time is it? My watch is gone. I can't remember much after the injection, they did a biopsy on Sir Lancelot. Have they got the results?"

"Never mind all that for now, darling. The doctor wants you to see a top consultant, because there is still a risk of infection. You have to go to Athens."

"No bloody way. They've already carved a totem pole using my privates as a starting point, and it's now mega sore."

The nurse stepped forward.

"You have to get a scan. We don't have one of those machines. The doctor is making the arrangements, and you must try to sit still."

"That's easy for you to say, it feels like a..."

"Aron, please just stay still and I'll call Stefano to tell him we have to fly to Athens. You have no choice in the matter, you have to see a specialist."

Having informed her parents, Raisa stood in the corridor and observed the escalating activity which was being directed to getting Aron ready to go. A special trolley with restraining straps was wheeled to the door. Paramedics were huddled and seemed to be discussing how they would best get the patient plus trolley on to a small plane. She heard the English word helicopter and began to think about holiday insurance. Would they be covered? In the meantime Aron was debating the fuss with the nurse.

"I walked to the hospital, I don't need a trolley. I'm just a bit dizzy with the anaesthetic or whatever was in the needle."

"The doctor said you must keep still as much as possible. If you have eggs from the parasite still in your...body, a lot of movement can spread them. That must not happen, do you understand?"

"Parasite's eggs? You aren't going to amputate anything, are you?"

"Not unless it becomes absolutely necessary. Now please lie down again and keep still. If you do not, I will ask the doctor to give you another injection."

*

Jean went straight to the family chateau, which had made him feel uncomfortable since he was a small boy. His mother gave her usual muted welcome backed up with a limp hug. His father dispensed with such frivolities and led Jean into the library. Drinks arrived without apparently being asked for. They sat until the 'butler' poured, withdrew, and closed the door. Jean refused to speak first as he was given no reason for being summoned to France in the first place.

"Jean, my reason for asking you to come home quickly is personal, and I did not want to speak about it by telephone. I have been given some bad news in recent days. At first I was told I needed special tests. Then after the results came back, the symptoms were indicative of cancer. I was assured that treatment was available, but I also felt that I was being told what I wanted to hear. I called a friend, a prominent specialist in this field of medicine. The truth is that I have pancreatic cancer, and the treatment will only slow the spread. I will not be here three months from now."

Jean had been made to feel a failure in life at best, more like an unnecessary burden, or even a mistake. His father was therefore shocked to witness the outpouring of emotion from this often boorish procreant. In this moment of baring one's soul, he saw for the very first time, the vulnerability of a son to whom he'd never really given a chance. It was Jean's non-acceptance that the condition was terminal which stirred his father's guilt and subsequent display of unprecedented compassion. Jean tried to ignore it.

"Dad, there must be other countries which have more advanced treatments for this form of cancer. You must not just take the French status quo on research as the only one. Even if I never liked a health system which is based upon ability to pay, you have so much wealth. What else is more important? I can find out what we can do, especially if you are feeling so ill."

"Jean, I have to speak with you about my will. Your mother cannot deal with this, and you are an only child. Arrangements have to be made. I could never see you running the company, but this changes everything. I have had several offers to sell over the years, and now is the time to agree to discussions. The workers must have their jobs protected, any acquisition has to have a good record of employee relations. I take it that you still would not want to inherit my responsibility? You and your mother will have more than you could ever need if I sell."

Jean's tears trickled either side of his nose, dripping into his coffee, as he bridled against his father's defeatism.

"No, no, no, I do not want to get into this until we no longer have any options. I am going to check out every medical possibility in every advanced country on the planet. Your will and the company can wait. Please let mother and me have a chance to do something our way, for once in your life."

Gerard nodded wearily, wondering how he could have missed this side of his son's character.

# Chapter 17

Meeting of Minds

A heavy storm rolled over Skiathos, lightning flashed almost continuously and thunder reverberated through the deserted streets. The power was suddenly cut and total darkness was everywhere, making the deluge all the more unwelcome. The severity of the storm had not been forecast, and this caught most of the people on the hop, the only upside was the cooling effect of the rain. Rolf was forced into a position of making decisions in rapid succession, and this in turn blew his cover. He was now universally known as the man at the top.

Once the emergency generators had kicked in and back-up oil lanterns were at the ready, he began with Gonzales. Delegation of authority with accountability wasn't an easy concept to discuss in the middle of encroaching panic, but they got it across as a duo, and finally, order regained the upper hand.

As a result, the hotel lounges, dining rooms, and ballroom facilities were in high demand. Rolf was on a final round of inspection when he noticed Mehmet, sitting on the steps as usual.

"Hello, my friend. Come inside, you cannot sit there in the rain."

"I was asked to come outside because the staff had to rearrange some things. I am fine, the storm is almost past the island now."

"Well, at least come in and use the facilities to dry off. Surely you cannot refuse to tell me more about your family. I will get some hot tea while you freshen up."

Mehmet gratefully accepted, brought his boxes of covered flowers inside, and trundled off to the gents.

*

Valerie took some persuading to join Nikos for dinner. He finally won her over when he showed her the array of home-grown produce on offer. He was busy with one of his special recipes when her mobile rang. It was Klaus

She made sure they spoke in German, not knowing how he would react to her being at Nikos' house.

" _Hi, Klaus. No, it is not a bad time, what happened at your meeting?"_

" _It was definitely worth me coming back to Koblenz. Listen, I have to read through and sign a mountain of paperwork in order to take up the bank's offer. Then there is a vetting period of two days, so please do not get angry, I have to protect our livelihood, after all. I should be back after that process is complete. I am checking out direct flights to Skiathos, and I can then let you know my exact arrival time as soon as I have tickets. Did you see any properties yet?"_

" _Not individual properties. The agent Nikos recommended sent details of a few, but there was hardly any information about the locations. I am not too confident of driving, and when I told Nikos, he said he would have suggested looking at the locations first. He drove me around the island, and I have seen a couple of villages which might suit our needs. It was good of him to help me. As far as individual properties are concerned there were two in each village that I liked. Nikos is willing to arrange viewings if we agree, he says it can cut out a lot of expense to forget the agent, he seems to be confident he can get a good price too. He asked if I want that, so it is good that you rang me. He invited me to have something to eat at his place and then call each property owner to check out details. There has just been a monster of a storm here, and the hotel plus the rest of town have power cuts. Is it ok if I stay here for dinner?"_

" _Of course, if he can save us a bundle of money, what have we got to lose? I will be in touch. Tell Nikos I had a chance to look over his proposal and it seems we have something to work on, but I have to get this end sorted out first. Enjoy your meal, darling."_

*

Stefano and Bianca were worried. Raisa had told them not to call her mobile as she would be in the Athens hospital. She promised to call them when there was something to report. Despite their downbeat mood, Bianca had noticed that Rolf seemed to have been more than a curious bystander or a mere resident during the storm. She left the ballroom and wandered off to reception via the ladies room.

"May I just make a request please? I think the staff have handled this emergency in a thoroughly professional way. I'd like to thank the persons responsible for keeping everyone calm, and then they even kept us entertained over the last few hours."

"Well, madam, normally I would have said you should speak to Mr Gonzales, but we have just learned that Mr Pirez has become the new owner of the hotel. He definitely seems to have more idea about running a hotel than the previous owner. He made sure that Mr Gonzales told us what he expected in this situation. That's Mr Pirez over there with Mehmet, the flower man. He seems to have time for everyone. I am sure he would like to hear your kind comments."

She took the opportunity to exclude Stefano from the conversation.

"I understand you are actually the owner of this wonderful hotel, Mr Pirez. I just wanted to say that everything is of an exceptional standard and the response to the emergency was just wonderful."

"You should not believe everything you hear. It is Mrs De Marchi, is it not?"

"It is indeed, I am impressed."

"Well, we have to know exactly who is and who is not in the hotel when a freak event occurs, as well as having a personal touch with our clients. By the way, this is my friend, Mehmet."

"Yes, the flower man. Pleased to meet you, Mehmet. Well I'd better get back to my husband. Maybe we could offer you a thank you drink sometime, Mr Pirez."

"I would certainly look forward to that."

She left them and Mehmet continued his tale.

"Of the hundreds of thousands of Greeks living in Turkey, almost none wanted to be moved to Thessaloniki. That was the wish of all religions, mostly Muslim and Greek Orthodox. There was resentment that there had been instances of objectors being flogged in public. As the police and the army combined to force through the policy, the brutality became worse. Many, including my grandfather, were covered in gasoline and set on fire. My grandfather survived, but was so badly burned that he could no longer speak clearly or feed himself. He was eventually given poison by the family to end his suffering. The transfer of the rest was speeded up because the police had to be sent back to keep public order, even those who were not being transferred could not accept this cruelty. With only the army now involved, the savagery increased. The word was spread that any resistance would be punished by death. Along the route to the border, examples of those who could not walk any further were left on display, by the side of the road. Their bodies were without legs. The cuts were clean, showing that they had been made with tools. The victims were left to bleed to death in agony. It was difficult for me to understand, because back at our home, all religious groups lived together, no segregation. Tolerance had been encouraged by the Ottoman Empire for many years. There seemed to be no point to exporting these peaceful people. My family tried to settle in the new camps in Greece, until houses were found, but we were treated like animals. This was the start of trouble between the migrants. Greek Orthodox believers were given priority, and Muslims were excluded from certain necessities. The seeds of evil were planted. I tried my best to wait for things to change, but they just got worse. Both of my brothers were put in prison for stealing bread, they took no account of the fact that we were starving, and never wanted to be moved there in the first place. They never came out of prison, I never saw them again. My father and mother committed suicide together, against their beliefs. I was still young, but alone in a world I did not understand. When at last I was taken from an institution, to live with another Muslim family, I had new hope. But these people were informers for the government, and were supposed to train me to become one of them. They had lots of privileges, but I ran away when I was nineteen, I tried to hide in cities where there were many homeless people. This is where I heard about life on some of the Greek islands. My first paid work was on the docks in Piraeus, where there was no contract, no questions asked, and low pay. It seemed to take forever, but I finally managed to get a job on the ferries. I sailed for many years before I found Skiathos, and I knew immediately it was for me. So, that is my story until my arrival here. Next time I will tell you about my other family."

Rolf was truly impacted by this man's personal struggle, and yet he remained so polite and positive in his attitude and kindness to others.

"Mehmet, would you eat with me? Anywhere you like, you choose."

"It is late, but we could have something from the sea, and prepare it at my house."

"How will you get something from the sea at this time of the night?"

"I have many friends, and we help each other. I give flowers and vegetables, they give me something in return. It is like a family."

They walked to a house on the outskirts of town. Mehmet was welcomed inside with his young friend and the people not only offered a large fish, but insisted on cooking it for them. The family had been in the fishing trade for generations. In the middle of this conviviality, Rolf was brought back to the real world by his mobile vibrating. It was Jean.

"I cannot get back for some time, Rolf. My father has been told he only has months to live. I have to help him through this. I have no idea why, I just do. I hope you are ok to take care of things until I can get back. I suppose you cannot understand why I give a shit about him after the way he has humiliated me all my life, but in doing that he also made sure I could find my own way, not forcing me into anything I did not want to do. You think I am stupid, do you not?"

"I do not think that at all, Jean. You are doing the right thing. It is one of those times when you need no explanation. I will see you when you are sure you are ready to come back. I hope the experts are wrong and he can pull through. My thoughts are with you, man. Stay strong for him."

The fish was superb and when the family heard they were entertaining the owner of the Paradiso, the more expensive wine began to flow. It turned into a long night. Rolf insisted on walking Mehmet home, and tried to hear more of his tale. "So, this new family you found..."

"Another day my friend. We have plenty of time for that. My shop will be closed tomorrow for half of the day, I have to visit a sick friend on Skopelos. Maybe we can continue tomorrow afternoon."

# Chapter 18

Impulse and Reaction

Raisa sent a text, rather than make a call. It was brief and worrying, mostly for what it didn't say.

'Hi, Mum and Dad. Aron has been seen and they have given him drugs to kill the eggs of this parasite. He has to have more tests tomorrow. I'm staying for now. Raisa'.

After discussing this, Stefano said they should wait until they received a second message before jumping to conclusions. Bianca, not surprisingly was of the opposite opinion and ignored her husband's advice, and replied within the hour.

'Hello, darling. It all sounds a bit nasty, poor Aron. Did they say what the other tests were? We could come to Athens to be with you'.

This must have irked Raisa for some reason, as she called her mother. "Mum, I think the specialist is happy that the parasite eggs will be completely neutralised, but he talked a lot to some of the other staff in Greek, and I couldn't pick up much of it. I kept hearing some words again and again, and I'm guessing, but it seems as if he has a secondary infection. The specialist wouldn't be drawn any further than to repeat the need for other tests, but he did say they were routine checks. There's no point in you coming here. You can't do anything, and they have allowed me to stay in the room with Aron during the night. Just wait until tomorrow and I'll speak to you again."

Bianca gave Stefano the gist of what their daughter had said, and he asked if she sounded weepy.

"Quite the reverse. That was Raisa at her most prickly. I don't like it one bit."

"Maybe you don't, but we have to do what she asks, there has to be a reason, and if she can stay with Aron, what would we do? Stay in a hotel in the city? She's right, we must wait for her to contact us again. Now, promise me that, Bianca. Don't interfere again."

She wasn't happy but Bianca nodded her affirmation, albeit with a quivering lip.

*

Valerie had an update from Nikos.

"I advise taking two of the four properties off your list. One has issues with mains water supply. The owner didn't tell me this, but I know the area and I checked with the municipality. The other one has an unfinished part of the roof, that isn't a structural problem, but in Greece, there is a payment of owed tax due when this tiling is completed. You may have noticed that most of the houses here have such a roof. It's an outdated policy but it is still in force here. The well-off ex-patriots don't bother with this farce, they prefer to have the house looking right. I assumed you would also want that. The trouble with the one on your list is that a new tile would look out of place because the originals have weathered and are now a different colour. If you want to view the other two, why don't we meet for lunch? I know a nice quiet place where nobody can hear what we might talk about."

Valerie hesitated, then agreed for him to collect her at the hotel. The drive to the first property from the taverna was only about ten miles. Unfortunately, the internal layout was not what Valerie had hoped for, and the upper floor living space was crying out for an opening to a veranda. The view from there would have been spectacular. The second villa was in a less spectacular location but had more potential for customisation without too much work. It was the best choice so far. When Nikos was driving back towards town, Valerie said she would call Klaus and ask about increasing their budget by a few thousand euros.

"I am maybe being a little over-ambitious for a holiday residence, but I could see me spending a lot more time here than back in Koblenz. I have also been approached to write a book about my marathon career and its premature end. If Klaus agrees then it would mean I have to look at more locations."

"This is a big investment, Valerie. You shouldn't jump too quickly, even if you find your dream house. Greeks expect some dialogue before agreement to proceed is reached. In fact, they might suspect you are a time waster if you don't ask a lot of questions and stall on calling your solicitor. Take your time. I'll be happy to assist when you are ready to look again."

He pulled into a layby at the top end of town, because Valerie wanted a new swimsuit. Her appetite for exercise had ramped up since the perpetual warmth eased her hip movement. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, thanking him for being so helpful. As she opened the door to get out, he held her arm, and as she turned, he kissed her on the lips. She resisted weakly, and briefly. She then responded, with a little guilt, but a much more dominant surge of passion, the like of which she'd not felt in years.

"I'm not sorry that I did that, Valerie. In fact, I knew I wanted to since I first saw you. I have missed not being with a woman, and when you told me you were interested in taking residence here, my hopes soared. I didn't know how to ask you if you felt there was something between us, so I talked myself into taking the plunge. I knew that would give me an answer, one way or another."

"Nikos, stop. You are going too fast for me. I am still a married woman. I wanted this too, I knew that when we had dinner at the hotel. But, I have no idea how to control this desire. I sometimes think Klaus never has a care about our relationship, but then he can be so understanding as well. Maybe my condition is a big part of this. We hardly ever sleep together anymore. I cannot seem to want that, and he treats me as if I am so fragile that I might break into pieces. He is also obsessed with making money, even though we have more than we can spend. I cannot just abandon him. I need time to think."

"I expected this. I only needed to know if there was a spark, or I was fooling myself. I'm a patient man, Valerie. It is many years since I was with a woman, and that was my wife. Call me if you want to talk about anything, anything at all."

*

Jean's text was more upbeat than his last call.

'Hi Rolf, just a word to say I am now on my way to the Czech Republic. A guy there has a partner in the USA who has been pioneering a new treatment for Dad's condition. It has not yet got the full clinical green light, but for someone already written off, it is a flicker in a dark tunnel. He surprisingly agreed to see this Czech doctor. Later'.

Rolf became unusually introspective and replied.

'Always knew there was a different guy fighting to get out of your flabby body. You found him. Do not let him get sucked back in until I meet him. Keep me in the loop if you can'.

Rolf was on his way to the dock, to check on Jean's cruiser by taking it for a spin. He thought he would call at Mehmet's shop on his way back in the afternoon. As he was going solo, Rolf had to limit the length and complexity of the check-up. It went without a hitch, until he returned to the mooring. A punter approached him and asked if he was for hire.

"No, this is not even my vessel. Just taking care of it for a friend."

"So, you can take my offer, maybe your friend need not know."

"That is not a friendship I would be happy about. There are plenty of other boats for hire along here. I cannot see your problem."

"I have some important clients coming in tomorrow. This baby looks as if it has a lot of facilities the others lack. It oozes class. Sure you have no interest in hearing what I can offer you?"

"Look, I gave you the heads up on the situation. To be honest, you are beginning to annoy me. I could take you scuba diving with just one of us having an air supply. Now, if you want to please me, step aside. I have a meeting with a real person."

"I must say you have an attitude problem, especially as you are just a boat lackey, and I have a good mind to..."

Rolf pushed the man, and his computer tablet, into the water, waited until he surfaced, minus the tablet, and made a false apology.

"Sorry about that, mate, but you were in my way, I should have been more careful. Can I give you my hand? The least I can do is help you out of the water."

The man was threshing about in extreme panic. He held out one hand and Rolf yanked him closer to the dockside.

"Slowly does it now, just relax, ok?"

As Rolf grabbed him by his jacket collar, he said in a low voice, "There we go. Now if I ever see you anywhere near this vessel again, I will have to repeat this unfortunate incident, but a mile offshore. So, think about it, silly boy."

He left the man with his upper half draped on the dock and his legs dangling in the water. "Now, mind how you go."

The incident made his imminent call on Mehmet something to look forward to, even more so than usual. He wasn't back yet, so Rolf sat at the nearest bar and had a beer. The bedraggled man from the dock passed by and carefully avoided eye contact. Mehmet scurried to his shop doorway like a mouse bringing a stolen piece of cheese back to its hole in the wall. Rolf took his time finishing his beer and wandered over to the open door. He was greeted with the expected enthusiasm.

"I am very sorry, the ferry was late in arriving and there were too many cars to pick up. Can I make you some coffee?"

"Relax, Mehmet. I have had a little delay myself. No coffee for me. Should I come back later?"

"Not at all. I will make my coffee as we talk. Can I ask why you are so interested in my story? Other friends just yawn when I speak about little pieces of my past, but you just want more."

"I wish I could answer that, but I suppose it seems that everything in modern life is so false. Your experiences are by comparison, carved in stone, just like the pyramids. They are not a model of something, or a video recording of a structure that has disappeared. You are able to connect me to events which occurred before I existed. And, you have been the architect of going retro on Skiathos with your very own barter system. You hardly have any actual money. That is something we have in common. Will that do for an explanation?"

"A good description, I must say, well in any case let us begin with my first trip back to Skiathos as a young man."

# Chapter 19

A Greek Urn

Rolf changed his mind and took some coffee while Mehmet picked up his story.

"I came here to live with another boy who had worked on the ferries. He was Lebanese, and he was a Muslim, although I only found that out some months after we first met. It just never came up, because we had got used to the idea that it would always be held against us. So, why tell anybody? Said, like me, was an orphan, his parents were killed in Beirut, during a clash between militants. He had an uncle in Piraeus. The man took him from the conflict in Lebanon out of honour obligation to his family, but never really gave Said any love as a father figure. We worked on the same ferries for a couple of years, and we both liked the idea of a more simple life. Of course it was never going to be as simple as that. To live on any Greek island needed registration, and permission of both Piraeus and the island itself, even though islanders were trying to compensate for young people migrating to the mainland for better jobs. Said's uncle had some influence in the system and he was able to help his nephew to come here almost a year before me. We still worked on the ferries and it was difficult for me to see him come home to Skiathos during that time. When I finally got permission, he got me a room in the same building. It was nothing like an apartment, just a room. We felt we were welcome in some place at last. The people here appreciated hard working young men to bring more trade and tourism to the island. We both found girlfriends, and that could have been a problem, like it had been in Thessaloniki, but it was quite the opposite. Said and Nana knew right away that they would get married, so he began to look for work here. Being on the ferries would never give much time off for family life. My girlfriend had the name, Rebekah, and her parents invited me to the house many times. But after some months she wanted to finish our relationship, and she went with another boy. Said's Nana won a place at university in Athens, and he told me he was going back to the mainland to live. It broke his heart to leave here, but he feared losing Nana if they could not have too much time together. It was a long time before I found the woman who became my wife. Maria's father had been made master of the ferry terminal here in Skiathos, It was through him that Maria and I first met, I had been promoted by then, I was a big shot loading supervisor. It was all going well when the most terrible news reached me. Said was among nineteen people killed in a chemical factory where he worked. If he had stayed on the ferries he may have still been here. This made me think that I was ready to get married, and Maria's parents accepted me into their family. It was just sheer bliss for me. Her father was only eight months from retirement when he had a stroke, and he never really recovered, he passed away soon after a second stroke. My mother-in-law came to live with us until she felt there was a better life for her on the mainland. She had other children and two grandchildren there. Maria and I were sad that she was leaving, but happy for her to have a choice. Maria did work, so she could not visit her mother too often. When she said we were having a baby, I thought her mother might think about coming back here. Maria unfortunately lost the baby when she herself died during the complicated birth. Our son would have been about your age now. I can see by your face that this is enough for now, but let me say one more thing. You may offer me sympathy, thinking I have been unlucky all my life, but I have had love and friendship, and anyway, if I just let the bad parts control me I would become a crazy man."

Rolf had an urge to hug this man, but perhaps that could come when Mehmet had finished his tale. There were another few decades to account for.

"Mehmet, what is that plant by the door?"

"Do you know, I have never found out its correct name? I picked it from the wild a long time ago and I put it on Maria's resting place each year. I gather the seeds and make new plants all the time. Do you like it?"

"Yes, it really is magnificent. But you have it in a dilapidated, cracked old urn. Listen, we have some beautiful marble urns at the hotel, which are much more fitting for such an important plant. Next time you come, remind me, and we will get one from our stock in the basement for you."

"First, I have to see them. The shape is important to me."

*

Raisa sat nervously on the edge of the bed. Aron seemed lost in thought. They were expecting the results anytime soon.

"What's going through that devious mind of yours, Aron? And don't keep telling me that your prick might have to be cut off, what was it you called it last night? A cock-off-a-me?"

They both laughed.

"No, it's much more serious than that, Raisa. It's over to contingency plans I'm afraid."

"I'm not discussing it. It wasn't what I agreed, it was your dirty mind, that's all."

"Just listen. You heard the doctor in Skiathos say it, and this guy confirmed it yesterday. Even without the pain, I can't have sexual intercourse with you or anyone else for that matter, for at least two months. We'll be back home then. It's a real pisser, because Stef and Bianca showed what our agreement could have done for us. Sex on the beach, in public but hidden away, golden sand and the lapping of clear turquoise water as a backdrop. You almost admitted it out loud, Raisa. Your parents have opened a new chapter of their lives. Ok, we saw them by accident, so what? This chance has been snatched away from us, not me, us. You know I always have contingency plans, and this is why. I want to talk about plan B. I won't be fobbed off. I just want to discuss it, ok?"

"Later, Aron, here's the doctor."

The stern look on the man's face conjured up the portents of doom for the patient.

"Mr Sinclair, I have bad news and not so bad news. First the bad news. You will have to stay with us for a few more days. It's a precaution, you have a blood infection, not a serious one, but one which could turn serious, if for example, you cut yourself with a dirty razor, or something like that. In any case, we have to give you another scan and that should wait until we expect the drugs will have cleared the parasite eggs and any other related infection."

"I see, and the not so bad news?"

"We have to put you in another room. One which has other patients in it, and two are from your country, so you will have someone to talk with while we wait for the scan."

"Great, but hold on, what about my wife? She can't sleep in such a room."

"There is no longer any need for your wife to worry or stay. You will be able to return to your holiday soon. Of course, she can find accommodation here in Piraeus, but I know where I would rather be."

The doctor and his entourage left the room and Aron was crestfallen.

"What will you do, Raisa?"

"Well, I don't like the idea of staying in the city on my own. Maybe I should go back."

"In that case we really do have to discuss plan B, and as I just said, I won't take no for an answer."

*

Valerie was getting frustrated at the engaged signal from Klaus' phone, and nobody at his Koblenz office knew where he was. She was ready to go ahead with more viewings when he finally picked up.

"Hello, Val, I am sorry I could not return your calls, but something else has come up."

"Really, in that case you had better tell me what your plans are now."

"I am well behind schedule with this paperwork, but I had a tip off from a trustworthy friend at Mercedes. He has heard that their car production demand forecasts are down dramatically, and other automobile companies are reporting the same concern. I was already finding it difficult to move the vehicles I have, so it does look as if the pipeline is becoming blocked."

"And?"

"Well, the situation is more serious than even the bank thought it was. I am going to have to adjust my strategy in the meantime, but for now I am going to put everything I can into this 'ring-fenced' deposit with the bank, until this bloody Greek bailout crap goes one way or the other."

"Ok, a big mess then. That probably means I have nothing to ask you. I was actually calling you to ask if we could increase our budget for the properties I have been looking at. I get the feeling you might not want to do that."

"That is absolutely true, in fact, we are going to have to put that on the back burner with everything else for a few weeks, maybe months."

"I see, so what am I supposed to do here while you sort out your life in Koblenz?"

"Believe it or not, I am not in control of these events, Val. I have done everything I can to protect our assets. Surely you can see these are very scary times."

She took a deep breath and braced herself for his reaction.

"So, do I just sit in the hotel, lie by the pool, walk to the harbour for an ice cream every day, while I wait for you to come and take me back to Koblenz?"

"I have told you many times, I will come back there as soon as I possibly can. I have to meet with Mercedes, Audi, and Porsche people, to drop my quotas for the next quarter. That is not going to be easy, because there is a clause in the contracts which ties me into the call-off plan for three months. If I default, there will be a retrospective clawback of discount which is a very significant sum."

"Yes, I understand these are the priorities in your life, but you keep using the word 'we' when you tell me what must happen. I really believed you when you said I could find us a place to change our lives. It was even better when you put this plan of a business venture in Skiathos in my name. Well, at least a bank account with regular amounts deposited from the venture. So, what about that?"

"The same criteria apply, Nikos will understand the delay, he is Greek, he probably understands better than anyone."

So, do I have to tell him the bad news?"

"If you could do that, it would be a great help. Tell him that I am running his proposal past my lawyer. I have to be sure I can be covered by German fiscal practice and financial law. That will probably take a few weeks anyway. Listen, you have no need to stop looking at properties, just forget making any commitments."

"Are you forgetting that I don't drive? I guess I am not really motivated by going everywhere in taxis, especially if it is only pretend interest in the properties."

"Well, ask Nikos if he can help out again. He will want to stay in the picture for our new venture, and he should try hard to impress me. Just ask him, Val, I really do have bigger fish to fry right now."

He had no idea how much that hurt.

"No, Klaus. That would be inappropriate, your wife asking a prospective business partner to run errands with her, just because you believe you have him on a string, like a marionette. You can tell him about the delay yourself and then ask him if he still wants to help me with the odd property viewing. I feel really pissed off with your off-handedness, which I have put up with for years. Call me after you speak to Nikos, not before. Oh, and when you do know when you might be coming back, you can just text me."

# Chapter 20

Truce or Dare

Raisa was almost ready to depart for Skiathos. She continued to mentally rehearse her response to plan B, knowing that Aron was likely to throw in a curveball at some stage.

"Well Aron, you insist on talking this through again, but you know my position, so, unless you have something different to say, I can't see the point."

"Maybe all I need is a different way of saying it."

"That's not going to change anything. I should go."

"Like I said, we could never have expected Stef and Bianca to emerge from their Victorian middle-age comfort zone, and they didn't even have marital problems hanging over them. We do, Raisa. And if we simply go on ignoring the deteriorating common ground we have, we deserve whatever happens."

She sighed and put down her things again.

"And what does that mean, 'we deserve whatever happens'?"

"Ok, have it your way. I want you to tell me exactly what you expected of me when you agreed to get married. Not merely that I had a secure profession, but about me, the person, warts and all."

"Is this really the time and place for this? I have to leave now."

"No. Not until we can be truly honest with each other. I, or rather we, have been dealt a rotten bit of luck by this jellyfish. It happened, and it ruled out plan A. Rather than just roll over and feel sorry for myself, I want to use this to confront the real problem. Here goes. You've never lost control during sex, have you? Don't start with 'it's always about sex' shit. That's a cop out, because the physical side is only a symptom. You are a pretty good actor, Raisa, or at least you were. Faking it gets harder when there's not much point to it. You need to admit there's a problem before we can do anything about it. I never expected you to marry me. I hoped you would, and the longer you took to dump me, the more I began to believe. The mismatch in physical attributes gradually diminished as a barrier, and you convinced me that other things would last, beauty was transient. The reason I've harped on about sex so much is because you were a virgin when we tied the knot, and although I felt good about that once, I now know that it's part of the problem. You find it very difficult to give yourself completely to anyone. You put up the barricades in many ways. During sex, you do this by talking all the time. I don't want to hear you telling me how good it is, I want you to show me. You know I'm right, yet you keep pushing your real feelings under the barricades. Raisa, I'm actually on the verge of asking for a divorce."

She slumped into the bedside chair, her hands covering her face. She began convulsing with emotion. Aron let her try to recover some composure before he spoke again.

"I'm hurting you by joining your pretence that everything is fine, we just need a holiday, or this, or that. I can't bear to see you live a lie, being trapped in a relationship, only so you can be perceived to be normal. You need to let go of something deep inside you if you are ever going to be truly happy. My recipe was to achieve this by getting sexual inhibition out of the way. I've played along with the faking and I've also allowed myself to be seen as sex mad, because it could have been the least traumatic way of breaching the dam. You don't see it in that light; don't you get it? That was deliberate. My first option has been well and truly scuppered. I'm begging you. Raisa, will you consider what I've said?"

The tears had been checked as he talked.

"I don't want you to leave me, Aron. I love you the way I always have. I can't make myself feel things if they aren't there. All I can say is that I don't want anyone else."

"No, that isn't all you can say. That's all you think it's proper to say. I have to get out of you what we can do together to stop you from fooling yourself. I could have suggested we went to a marriage counsellor, a therapist maybe, but that would end up becoming yet another barricade. I want to be part of this healing process, not simply part of the audience."

"When I spoke my mind as a child, a young girl, it always ended in tragedy. It would be the same now."

"Thank you. That's the first step. It doesn't have to be like that. What would you like to say about plan B if I promise not to be upset?"

"It's hard for me to talk about stuff if I have no idea of the consequences. Not knowing what might happen scares the hell out of me. How can you know what will happen?"

"I can't. But I'm willing to take the risk if it helps us stay together. I'm speaking of divorce because we're heading for a mighty waterfall, one which we won't be able to ascend again if we drift over it. That's not a risk, it's a probability. In my work, I can't have someone found a little bit not guilty. It has to be one thing or the other. We have to give it our best shot, Raisa. Rather than me speaking the words and you being disgusted, why don't we change roles for once?"

"You mean that I say I want to have sex with another man?"

"No. Only that you wouldn't rule out sex with another man. Is that so hard? Not a single human can swear that they've never found any person other than their partner attractive. That's genetics for you."

"There's a hell of a difference between thinking that and doing something about it."

"Precisely, if you had told me that a previous boyfriend had sex with you, and I said that I was looking to marry a virgin, what would you have thought of me then?"

She actually smiled.

"That you were a chauvinist pig."

"Right, so your problem is that you didn't have sex before you got married, and that means you can't go back. You would be breaking a trust. But I'm telling you that I trust you with my life. If I can actually reach you completely, Raisa, you could be a member of a bloody harem as far as I'm concerned! I can pretend that we aren't married yet, whatever it takes."

"What would happen if I found I liked another man?"

"Well, I'd have thought you would have to like him if you wanted to have sex with him. I know the risk you're speaking of, and if it became a relationship which was stronger than ours, I would have to step aside. If it wasn't anything serious, I'm pretty sure I could live with it. I'd prefer to see you lose these childhood demons than have you as a faithful wife but trapped in a mummified personality. Can you not see that there will never be anyone else for me, even if we ended up having to separate? I'd rather take the gamble to share you than lose you, or live in a pretend relationship. If we can just cough up this prune stone which is choking us, we have the world at our feet again."

"You must give me more time to think about this, Aron. It really frightens me, and you leaving me frightens me more than anything. There are so many layers to what you say. It would probably have been less to worry about if I had just cheated on you without you knowing."

"I've wanted to put it to you that way for months, but it would have seemed like an accusation. Whatever else happens, you don't get out of the sex on the beach pledge. That is going to happen sometime."

"I hope so."

She left for the ferry to Skiathos, strangely feeling that she had cleared a couple of life's emotional hurdles, albeit seeing that the lane ahead had another seven or eight just itching to pull her down.

*

Rolf began to wonder why the man he pushed into the water had never reported the incident to the police. He had lost a computer tablet and everything on its hard drive, and he could easily have taken the details of the cruiser, name and port of registration in Marseille. It would have led back to the Paradiso, as Jean was still the real legal owner, and his name was on the deeds. He decided to forget about it.

Everything was back to normal service at the Paradiso, so Rolf took a dip in the waters off the harbour pier. It brought the tablet incident back into focus again. He dried off and called at Mehmet's shop.

"It is ok, Mehmet. I can wait until later to hear the finale of your journey through life, I wanted to ask you about something else."

"Very well, can you just help me to lift these crates into the back room while we talk?"

"Sure, I suppose it is a long shot, but a guy asked me if he could rent my friend's boat. He was well dressed, talked softly, but had a threatening attitude, well, probably more sarcastic than threatening, really. He had a computer tablet in one hand and a zipped bag in the other. When he refused to take no for an answer, I pushed him into the water, but then I helped him out. He made no complaint, even though he lost the tablet. It was a curious situation, he said he had important people arriving, today I think. Have you ever seen anyone who fits that sketchy description?"

"Not that I recall, what did he actually look like? Tall, thin, fat, bald, age, beard, things like that."

"Oh, yes. I suppose he must have been no more than mid-twenties, about the same height as me, thinner than me, thick black hair, a thin beard – actually more like a line painted around his chin, and when I pulled him from the water I noticed a small tattoo on his neck, a symbol or some such pattern."

"Was he wearing shoes?"

"Yes."

"Not sandals?"

"No, black, shiny shoes. Do you know him now?"

"No, but maybe he just got off the ferry. Not many people walk around town with bags and computers dressed well and wearing shoes like that. Is it so important?"

"I suppose not, I cannot even understand why it is bugging me, other than he seemed desperate to hire a particular kind of boat. I was a bit concerned that he might try to steal the vessel after I knocked him into the water. I suppose I just have to check the boat every day from now on. I might let the police know about the incident, to see if he has actually reported it, and whether they decided to ignore it."

"I should keep my eyes open for a stranger like you have described. Do you want to make us some tea?"

"Yeah, why not? Is this a special shipment? The crates?"

"Oh, yes, I put up a large tent every year for the festival."

"What kind of festival?"

"For the town I can say it is mainly a firework display, for me it is the same old lovely blooms. But the fireworks are in the square and my shop is hidden in this little street. If the people cannot come to me, I have to go to them."

"You do lead a curious life, Mehmet. I should get the tea."

# Chapter 21

Shifting Sands

When Valerie had allowed recent events to flow over her, while taking a tepid bath, she figured that Klaus would have either forgotten to contact Nikos, or more likely he would just let the man hang out to dry over the delay in progressing the partnership. She got dressed, sprayed on a little perfume and walked to the harbour front. She chose a seat on the opposite side of the road to his rental forecourt and took in what there was of the weak breeze.

It was over fifteen minutes before she feigned surprise at Nikos' appearance beside the bench.

"Oh, hello, I think I should step back to where I can get some shade. The sun is absolutely relentless. Can I buy you a cold drink or are you still working?"

"I am working, but your husband called to ask me if I could continue to help out on the property search. I said I was doing that anyway, but then he seemed confused. He said you would be able to explain. I rang your mobile but there was no reply."

"How silly of me. I must have left it at the hotel when I went walking. I blame the heat for frying my brain."

"No problem, I can meet you for a drink in about thirty minutes. And it will be my pleasure to join you in the Acropolis bar, do you know it?"

"Yes, I do, I think it is on my way back. I need to cool off completely, so I can head for the Acropolis now. See you in half an hour."

Valerie sat in a corner seat, close to an air conditioning unit, and mulled over what Nikos had told her. It appeared that Klaus had 'forgotten' to mention either the property budget or the partnership delay. She felt like calling her husband, but kept calm, and found herself enjoying the innuendo between her and Nikos. He was attentive, good looking, refined, and obviously interested. She refrained from kidding herself, about anything other than a brief holiday romance, but she definitely needed something in her life to change. The current script resembled slow death. She could allow herself to be quietly swept off her feet, and see where that took her.

He arrived punctually, and that pleased Valerie.

"What will you have, Nikos?"

"No, I'd like to offer you something different, perhaps a Greek speciality?"

"Not alcoholic, I hope. I would rather avoid booze at this time of the day."

"I sensed that already. It's a combination of many fresh fruits squashed and shaken with local herbs. If you don't like it I'll ask the hotel to send a bottle of champagne to your room tonight."

"How can I resist such an offer? And what if I do like it?"

"Well, I was going to get to that later, but your husband asked me to make sure I should do everything to keep you happy. I didn't want to misinterpret what he said, but if I am honest, I would like to do exactly that by asking if we could have dinner to discuss exact timing for more viewings. I need to book time out from the office."

"Well, that is very considerate of Klaus. I do like the hotel restaurant. Should I reserve a table for eight o'clock?"

"Wouldn't that give the wrong impression to the hotel staff?"

"Why should it? It is apparently what Klaus wants, and we both know it is just on a professional basis. Wait a minute, I can call him."

She speed-dialled Klaus, and predictably he was in a meeting.

"Yes, Valerie, what is it? I am in important discussions with Mercedes at the moment."

"Oh, sorry darling, Nikos spoke to me today and said he was happy to show me more properties, so I agreed and asked if he would be happy to discuss further viewings at the hotel, without making commitments of course, as you said. He also said you asked him to take care of anything else I might need, you know, errands, some company in the evenings, to make sure things progress, but only in line with the timescales you mentioned to me. Did I understand him correctly?"

"Yes, I wanted you to be properly looked after, in my absence. As long as you say you are happy with that. I would feel guilty if you were to be on your own all of the time. Is there a problem?"

"No, and thank you, darling, for thinking of me. I do understand you have important discussions with the car people. Hope to see you soon. Bye."

She looked across to see the confusion on Nikos' face. His lips moved but no words came out. Valerie motioned him to say nothing.

"Let me have this Greek special. Then I suppose I must decide not to like it, otherwise you will not send me champagne."

*

Raisa had to suffer a deluge of questions from her parents and she found it difficult to stay on script. The most common slant was regarding Aron's blood infection. The scatter of possible causes ranged from food poisoning to sub-tropical diseases, although they carefully skated around aids and malaria. The tide suddenly ebbed and she had privacy at last. Uppermost in her mind was the vacuum of doubt, and that there was nobody she could reasonably talk to about Aron's bizarre suggestion. For the very first time she could accept he was genuinely trying to help her, and not himself. Unfortunately, that particular crumb of comfort on its own didn't quell her fears. What could she now admit to herself? Especially as she still had regular flashbacks, those vivid images of Rolf, while she had lingered in the shower. They wouldn't go away, there was clear presence of inexplicable magnetism. Unwanted or otherwise. Her boundaries, both recent and those from her childhood in Bosnia, were under siege. There had to be some means of gathering herself together to deal with a profoundly risky game of roulette.

However, her head was marooned in a fictional land of nowhere, despite her relentless pursuit of cogent self-analysis. Annoying periods of well-intended intrusion by her mother ultimately fashioned the first crack in her circular train of thought.

"Hello, darling," whispered Bianca, "I thought you might like breakfast in bed, so I ordered it to be brought to our room, and then surprise you. A rest is what you need, what with all this hospital conjecture and no helpful or definitive answers. Things will change. You need to get out of the hotel today instead of moping around. Oh, by the way, speaking of the hotel – I found out during the recent storm that it is owned by none other than that nice blond-haired man. I thought he was quite aloof when his friend gave you that flower down at the steps, but he's really friendly, almost charming. I had a short chat with him and he accepted my invitation to have a drink with us some evening. I used the excuse that it was a way of expressing our appreciation for his handling of the electrical power cut. I haven't told your Dad yet. Anyway, do you want to go for a drive with us today?"

"Yes, that might take my mind off other things. Dad might be upset at you inviting this fella for a drink, don't you think you should act your age?"

"Why? So that I don't get judged by hypocrites, women younger than me but look like frumps. Every woman in this place would jump into bed with him if they were still single, but would never admit it. I'm honest, I fancy a chat with him, is that really a big deal? Your Dad got me through cancer and helped me to pick you out of a bunch of urchins, he knows me better than anyone. He wouldn't get upset if I said that guy was attractive, or even if I flirted with him, which I will. But he probably knows I wouldn't go further, even if that was possible. Trust, real trust, is not being faithful because of some vow you've made, it's being yourself, without breaking the bond with whomever you have this trust. Getting through chemotherapy was a big deal, not just hurt feelings. It possibly makes you a little more selfish than you were before, and those who have never experienced that precipice should reserve judgement. Who decided monogamy was sacrosanct? Who extended it to flirting, kissing, or just shared interest in something? If your father had lost me he would have been devastated, do you think I don't know that? Have you ever thought about how women played their part in evolution? Back in the Stone Age, they, like most of the animal kingdom, took multiple mates. It was the cornerstone in the march to the survival of the fittest. Because we're now so civilised and sophisticated, we know better. These 'sins' we are brainwashed with are nothing but an overlay on reality. If I told your Dad that I had a deep longing to do something, be that climbing Everest or a fling with some toy boy, he wouldn't stand in my way. He knows I would be true to him in things that really matter. I'm sorry this has turned into a sermon, darling, but you hit a nerve, and I know that you, more than most people, will know exactly what I mean. You've been through a different kind of cancer. Enough, do you want to come with us today?"

"Yes, of course I do. Give me time to shower and I'll give you a knock."

*

Mehmet asked if he could see Rolf at the hotel reception and was told he was at the harbour, checking on the boat. He'd brought his rickety old van to inspect and hopefully collect his new urn. The vehicle, originally some shade of burgundy, was plagued with scratches, rust, inch-thick mud, and dead flies, which had adhered to any available glass surface.

He hopped back into his transport, having left the engine running, and swung out of the car park. He arrived at the mooring two minutes later.

"Hello, my friend. I want to take up your offer of looking at your urns, and I have just been to the hotel. You have two different types in the entrance and reception area. I like the ones without handles on the side. Is that ok?"

"Sure, I think the work is almost done here. Another five minutes will do it."

"So, this is where you had trouble with that stranger?"

"Yes, I decided to report the incident to the police, but they said they had no record of it, so they deduced that no complaint was received. They sure gave the impression of not being interested, telling me to forget it."

"I think I may have seen him this morning. I was delivering some vegetables to a lady who is sick, and a man passed her window, someone I have never seen in town before, and it could have been the one you described to me."

"Really? Where was this?"

"On the main road out of town, towards the beaches. Banana and Abelakia beaches."

"Ok, I should bear that in mind, thanks. Right, should we go and get your urn? Am I supposed to get in that van? I think it might be quicker to walk."

"That I will leave up to you, but I will need your help to load and unload the urn. My van is no pretty boy but it does the job, and never complains."

"You are a smooth talker, Mehmet. You are coming to the hotel tonight, are you not? I am excited and ready for the finale. Why has nobody asked you to make a book out of your life story? I feel sure there are things you must have missed out or skipped over when you have been telling me about your journey."

"A book. Who would want to read about such sad events, it is bad enough to hear them without the effort of reading them. Maybe you will change your advice when you hear the final part. Anyway, although I can speak in English, I can only write the most basic things."

"I can help you out with that, and I can say for sure that my friend Jean would help you to find a publisher. But you have to decide if you want to bare your soul to others. Maybe it was a bad idea."

# Chapter 22

Sticks and Stones

The Paradiso dining room was sparsely populated, in fact there were more waiters than residents. The background harp solo, and dimmed lights added to the ghostly feeling. The De Marchi family were debating whether they should abandon to a lively taverna. They'd enjoyed an Aron-free day on Abelakia beach, repeating Stefano and Bianca's fruit fest at the beach café. Stefano preferred to stay in the hotel for dinner and then revisit the steps for a 'busy' cocktail. The waiter was there in an instant as soon as they put the menus down. Halfway through the order, Raisa kicked her mother under the table. Bianca's head turned and saw the approaching couple.

"Mum, that's the German woman, and that's not her husband."

"Don't jump to conclusions, Raisa. Her hubby might be at the toilet."

"Yeah right, look at how she's glammed up. That dress is pretty sheer and I can't see a knicker line. A tenner says the Fuhrer doesn't turn up."

"Now, now, are you going to let the waiter stand there all night?"

"Oh, sorry, I'll have the deep fried Brie and cranberry brioche, and wild mushroom stroganoff, please."

Stefano hadn't overheard the gossip and spoke to Valerie as she was shown to a nearby table.

"See, Raisa, your father didn't even notice she was with a different man."

"Who is?" said Stefano.

"The one you just spoke to, Dad. She's married to that German chap who arranged our car hire."

"Oh, of course. Where is he? The German."

"That's what we've been whispering about. That guy is much more handsome than her other half. I think there is something going on."

"None of our business, Raisa," said her father, "anyway, it isn't illegal, even if your suspicions are right. I'm looking forward to that cocktail tonight."

Bianca glanced at Raisa with that 'told you so' expression.

The virtually empty room made it difficult not to look at Valerie and Nikos. They appeared to be scrutinising a piece of paper frequently, and Nikos was describing something with both his hands and his voice, simultaneously. The women could only catch the odd word and couldn't make any sense of the subject under discussion.

"Right, if we've all finished, let's get out of here," urged Stefano, "you two are making me feel embarrassed."

They filed out of the dining room, through reception, and headed for the steps. As they passed by the side street on which Mehmet's flower shop stood, Raisa caught sight of Rolf helping his friend, loading dozens of beautiful cut blooms into a van. She tried to look away, but Bianca spotted them a fraction of a second later, shouted and waved at the two men.

"Still working at this time of night? Join us at the steps for a cocktail, you'd be very welcome."

All she received was a shrug of the shoulders. Raisa turned to her father.

"Dad, you were embarrassed in the dining room about us earwigging the German woman's conversation with a man who isn't her husband. What about Mum blatantly trying to flirt with a man half her age?"

"It all goes over my head to be honest, darling. I'm no oil painting, but I have my moments."

Bianca poked her tongue out at her daughter.

"Chill out, for goodness sake, Raisa. Tell me, honestly, do you find that Rolf attractive?"

"In a purely visual sense, yes, I suppose I do, but it's a bit shallow to look at people like objects rather than personalities. Anyway, he's probably spent more time with different women than you've had getting your nails done."

"You suppose you do! I see little porkies in your eyes. Maybe he has had a lot of women, but I bet he's pretty choosy about which ones he actually gets it on with. A man with lots of experience intrigues me. Your Dad has only known me in a carnal sense."

"Bianca, give it a rest, will you?" said Stefano, "Raisa doesn't need to be acquainted with such details. She has her own marriage to think about. Now let's get to these cocktails and some easy listening music."

Raisa was even more confused by the conflicts which surfed her emotional strings. She texted Aron and the reply confirmed that the drugs were getting on top of the blood infection, but he'd been told that it would be another day or so before he was discharged. The warm breeze played over her skin and the first sip of a White Russian cocktail helped settle her down.

*

Having finished loading Mehmet's van, Rolf pestered the old man to finish his 'biography' before he was ready to set off for the hotel.

"I should be heading the other way shortly, to Jean's cruiser. I just cannot seem to get that guy who tried to hire it out of my head. He might be just waiting for the right moment to do something nasty in getting revenge for me causing him to lose his tablet. It is impossible for me to be there all the time, but I do need to keep checking on the vessel."

For the very first time he detected uncertainty in Mehmet's voice.

"After the deaths of Maria and our baby, I asked when I could make the funeral arrangements. I was then informed that a nurse had spoken about some mistake during the birth itself. I had to wait until this was settled, and worse than that, they wanted to do an auto...no, a cutting open of the bodies."

"An autopsy, post mortem, is that what you were told?"

"Yes, a post mortem. Well, it was a shock, but I had to say yes. But then I heard that the nurse was... oh, sorry, I have trouble finding the right word again. They sent the nurse home."

"They suspended her?"

"Yes, thank you. There was a big investigation, and then people from Athens became involved. After they saw the results from the post mortem, everything was stopped by legal people. It was a horrible time for me, and it lasted for many months, before there was a trial in Athens. It was to do with the sedation during the birth. The nurse from Skiathos had said the wrong drugs were used when Maria became unconscious. You see, she had a low form of epilepsy, not many attacks, and mostly started by flashing lights. But the medical sheets, which would have showed the name of the medication, were missing. A lot of careful tests proved that the nurse was telling the truth. This upset everybody on the island, but none of the other people in the hospital would take the blame, or mention who made the mistake. The trial had to decide what to do without having all of the answers, and it was said to be an accidental death of Maria, and a stillborn baby. It was nearly nine months before I could arrange a funeral for both of them. Later that year, the nurse was told to leave her job. She then decided to tell me who was responsible for the mistake. The birth was during the night and a young doctor was asked to examine Maria urgently when she became unconscious. He wrote the wrong name of the drug on the sheet, it was a dangerous one for people if they were having epileptic fits. That doctor left for a new job in Africa after the trial. I could never have imagined something like this would be covered up just to protect the reputation of a hospital, a building, when two lives were lost. That mistake should never happen again, but, because it is called an accident, the existence of a mistake has been put under the carpet. You may not be surprised that I thought about leaving the island, but I could never do it. It was my Maria and a baby with no name who kept me here. Growing flowers and vegetables from their seeds allowed me to see a world where new births came before deaths arrived. It still helps me now. Unfortunately, because of the trial, my name was on some register, and I had letters from the Athens tax people at first, and then even the tax people here questioned my income. You see, I had a shop and a van, and a house, and a large piece of land for growing vegetables and flowers, but I did pay the lowest allowed tax. They got angry when they saw that I was exchanging my garden goods for everything I needed in my life. The money for the land, and the rest was given to us by Maria's family when we married. They still check up on me, and tell me I could get a lot of money for the land and the shop. It makes them even angrier, when I say I do not care about money. They are really frustrated because I do not break their stupid laws, but they can do nothing about it. They watch me when I give away flowers at the hotel, thinking I take money into my pocket. I enjoy wasting their time, and I intend doing it until I die. My friends like it so much that they do as much as they can to support me. Do you think I could be a crazy man? That is what the authorities call me."

Rolf had listened with utter disbelief about the hospital cover up, but as always Mehmet uplifted his friend's spirits by describing how he was shafting the tax people on a daily basis. They parted company, Mehmet climbed into the creaky old van, and Rolf set off for the boat, descending the steps.

*

Valerie and Nikos were now alone in the hotel dining room, having consumed quite a lot of alcohol. They retired to the ballroom, as the waiters seemed to be resetting tables for breakfast. They'd concluded their talk about which properties to add to their viewing list, and Valerie was quite happy to have more prying eyes wondering where her husband was.

"Would you care to dance, Valerie? I mean would it cause pain by twisting and turning?"

"I think the wine may have my discomfort under control. We can give it a try."

He held her quite close, he was a very good dancer, and the heads were turning. She kept her smile despite a couple of twinges, until a quicker tempo dance was announced by the bandleader. Nikos escorted her off the floor with his arm around her waist and she showed no sign of objection.

"What do you really think of my husband, Nikos? I know you are considering a partnership deal with him, and I can tell you he thinks you see this as he does, an opportunity to somehow reduce the impact of another bailout for Greece, or worse."

"Yes, we think along the same lines in a financial sense. Is this an interview you've been asked to conduct?"

This stung Valerie, and she made no attempt to hide her disappointment.

"If you thought I was sitting here grilling you on his behalf, maybe I have made a big mistake. Nikos, I have really enjoyed spending time with you for no other reason than I like your company. It may be true that I was mad when Klaus just left me here on my own, but our time together has helped me see things a little differently, and my question was related to that feeling. Perhaps I was mistaken, I think I would like to go to my room now, if you think this _interview_ is over."

"Valerie, I don't know why I said something so stupid. I suppose I could say that I don't know where I stand in this situation. I apologise unreservedly, please let us not part on such a silly misunderstanding."

"Oh, I think we can still go ahead with the viewings, but maybe by concentrating on the task in hand, you know, less of the personal influence. What would be the best time for you tomorrow, or would another day be better?"

Nikos struggled with his words, and Valerie bid him goodnight. It certainly pricked the bubble of scandal in the audience.

She had a few tears as she swiped the door lock to her suite, and they multiplied once she was inside. She fell face-forward on to the bed and felt she had made a complete fool of herself. Gathering herself together, she undressed and put on a red satin nightdress, and wearily contemplated removing her makeup. The doorbell rang.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Nikos, I can't let this end in such a mixed up way, Valerie. Let me try to understand what is possible for us in this triangle. I have really strong feelings for you, I would hate only seeing you as some kind of client, but even that would be better than nothing. You have brought a flame back into my life which I thought was dead. Please..."

The door opened. She pulled him inside and kissed him with an open mouth. She allowed her nightdress to slide to the floor. She was naked and aroused in a way she'd never known. There was no resistance from Nikos when she rolled him over on to his back. She needed to control her hip movement to delay the onset of arthritic pain. It was gentle but deeply emotional for quite a protracted period, building in breathlessness until she felt as if she was falling. The intensity of the moment was elusive, impossible to hold on to - beautiful agony.

# Chapter 23

Serpents and Saints

As Rolf skipped down the steps on his way to the boat, he saw the De Marchi clan, almost supine on their cushions, sipping their rainbow coloured drinks. He acknowledged them, and when Bianca pointed at her drink then him, he came over.

"I would like to but I have to inspect my friend's boat. However, if you like the idea of coming to the harbour, he has plenty of drinks on board, all free to you for inviting me. It is also cooler down there and it has its own facilities, if you need them."

Raisa tried to get in first. "Thank you, it's kind of you to offer..."

"And we'd be delighted, wouldn't we, Stefano," squealed Bianca, "but we'll finish these cocktails first. How will we know which boat it is?"

"That sounds fine, I may need about ten minutes to shower, so take your time to finish your drinks. I should have said, it is actually an ocean-going cruiser, easily picked out by its size. None of the other boats are anywhere near as big, you cannot possibly miss it. So, will I see you there?"

They all nodded their agreement. As he arrived on the harbour front, he said it again, 'ocean-going cruiser', and thought, 'that could be it, the guy maybe wanted to do something other than island hopping'. No other craft on the seafront could have coped with the lashing Jean's cruiser had taken on their way to the heel of Italy.

His train of thought was further disturbed when he saw two divers alongside the cruiser.

"Can I ask you what you are doing?"

"Can I ask you who you are?" one of them replied, aggressively.

"I am the person responsible for looking after this craft in the owner's absence. Why are you diving here?"

"Sorry, sir. A man asked us to retrieve a computer tablet he dropped into the water. He said it was on this side of the cruiser."

"But surely it will be trashed by the salt water."

"Not according to him. It's apparently one of the latest high end waterproof types. We get half our fee for looking and half if we recover it. We are exercising extreme care around your cruiser, I assure you. I don't suppose you'd help us by switching on the lights from your vessel?"

Rolf pondered this and thought it would be best if he was cooperative, and maybe the guy hadn't reported the loss because the tablet was waterproof, and he hadn't mentioned the altercation. He switched on the lights, intending to follow the divers back to their customer, then he remembered the De Marchi lot were coming.

The divers gave him the thumbs up and didn't take long to surface with the tablet. Rolf couldn't resist.

"Who is this guy? Where does he live? I think I recall seeing someone walking along here with a computer gadget in his hands."

They both shook their heads. The same one spoke. "He said he didn't want any undue attention, he felt pretty stupid letting the tablet slip, and that's why he asked us to do the search at night. Sorry, that's all we know."

Rolf was torn, but when he saw his company strolling along the harbour he let it go.

*

Valerie was still swimming in the tenderness of Nikos' embrace when her phone vibrated.

"It is Klaus," she mouthed, "hello, Klaus, this is very late, is there a problem?"

"Not a problem I hope, I just thought it would be better to let you know as soon as possible. There has been a hitch in the discussions with all the German suppliers, not just Mercedes. I know you will probably be angry but I am afraid I have to get this resolved satisfactorily. Even then, I might get stuck with cars I cannot possibly sell. Would you rather fly back to Koblenz than stay there on your own? And, I must also tell you that it looks less likely that I can siphon off enough funds to proceed with a property in Skiathos, at least for a little while longer."

"Is that it? You called at midnight to tell me that?"

"I have honestly been in meetings all day. I just got back home this minute. I thought you might want to look at flights to Dusseldorf, as early as tomorrow."

"I already said it a few times since we came to Skiathos, the climate here soothes my hips."

She took Nikos' hand and placed it on her breast while she talked.

"As long as you are happy with Nikos taking care of me in your absence, I want to stay here. Do whatever you have to about cars and banks."

Nikos kissed her while Klaus responded.

"Thanks for your understanding, Val. So, is Nikos able to find time to help you out? He said it might be difficult at times." She broke off the kiss, reluctantly.

"Yes, he is a pretty easy going man, not too driven by his work, and of course I am completely flexible, not having any other commitments. Actually we had a few drinks together after trolling round looking at properties. I am really enjoying it even if we are not able to buy anything for the moment."

She pushed his hand to her clitoris and her eyes rolled at the sheer deceit of speaking with her husband while another man was getting her seriously aroused again. The mental image of her husband's tacit encouragement to spend time with another man, underpinned her 'legitimate infidelity'. It was more powerful than she could ever have imagined.

"You must remind me to thank him when I get back, especially as I am kind of holding out on him about the partnership. I still want to go ahead but it has to be on my terms, so I guess that is not really cheating. Is it?"

This provoked a heightening of Valerie's sexual tension, it was almost unspoken approval to meet fire with fire. Nikos sensed her desire for him to kiss her down there, and he met no resistance. Valerie's breathing became heavy, as Klaus asked the inevitable question.

"Hello, are you still there? Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, I am just ready for bed. I will call you tomorrow, maybe, if I am not too worn out."

She kept the phone off the hook, with her hand over the mouthpiece, until she heard the disconnection tone. She climaxed almost instantly, unrestrained by the thought of breaking her vows. She felt utterly complete. Everything else would have to wait.

*

"What can I get you to drink?" said Rolf, "if I do not have it, I will recommend something in its place."

"White wine," said Bianca.

"I think I'd like a really cold beer," ventured Stefano questioningly.

"I'll have orange juice please, if that's ok," Raisa said, almost in a whisper.

"I might join you in an orange juice," replied Rolf. He then disappeared below deck to find a tray. There was some discussion about what a vessel like this would cost. Stefano corrected the valuations of the women.

"Multi-millions, that's nearer the mark, perhaps twenty, or more."

Having set out the drinks, Rolf raised his, to say 'Salute' and they all responded. The conversation was quite stilted at first, and then it moved to Mehmet.

"He's a lovely person, isn't he?" Bianca was angling to know why Rolf spent so much time with the man.

"He is a truly exceptional man. I cannot betray any of his confidence in me, but you might want to get to know him. I am quite in awe of him. Really."

Raisa's interest picked up. It wasn't the kind of comment she'd expected.

"He's very polite, and his idea of giving flowers to sell more is very clever."

"It runs deeper than that, talk to him and you will see what I mean. By the time I get to his age, if I can say I have avoided wasting my life, I will be very happy. Mehmet can say that, well, at least I can say that for him."

Another round of drinks consumed and Stefano signalled that he was ready to go back to the hotel. Raisa feared that Bianca would resist, but that didn't happen, so she stood up to join the exodus. Rolf said he would lock up the cruiser and accompany them.

Arriving back at the Paradiso, all but Rolf were surprised that Mehmet was still there. Stefano and Bianca smiled and headed to their suite. Raisa stopped to take a flower while her parents went on ahead. Rolf suggested to Mehmet that Raisa seemed interested in their friendship.

"I get the feeling that most of our residents think I own the hotel, you seem to be a poor flower seller, and therefore wonder why we talk so much. Maybe I am wrong."

"No, I think you're right about that, but that's just on the surface. I hope I'm not saying the wrong thing here," said Raisa.

"I do not understand what you say," queried Mehmet.

"Well, my life began in Bosnia, but my biological parents died. I was lucky to find my new parents when I was still a child. Now that I speak English without an accent, I am seen as English. Nobody ever suspects anything else, but I see others who aren't so lucky because of what they appear to be."

"So, you are Muslim?" asked Mehmet.

"My birth parents were, but I've had no particular religious upbringing. My experience in Bosnia was not one which could make me believe in any god."

Rolf's interest rose sharply.

"I hope I am not being too intrusive, are you still regularly troubled by childhood flashbacks?"

"Not so much now, but yes, from time to time they rear their ugly head. Why do you ask?"

"It is sometimes as if the world is not real, is it not? The mind gets warped into thinking you reside in a body which belongs to someone else."

"That's exactly how it feels, when it gets bad."

Mehmet listened patiently. Rolf's eyes filled up and he turned away.

"Maybe that's enough for tonight. I should walk you back home, Mehmet."

"You forgot, I have the van. Are you feeling unwell?"

He still didn't turn to face them.

"No, well yes, I feel as if I will surely be sick. Excuse me, my head is spinning."

"Come with me to the shop. I have some herbs which will help. You are not saying that your childhood was also bad, are you?"

"Not my childhood, but I did have some issues when I was sixteen. I have never admitted this to anyone before but you have helped me so much, Mehmet, I cannot lie to such a direct question, well not to you, of all people."

It was Raisa's turn to be drawn further into the discussion.

"Why don't you go with Mehmet? You really don't look well to me."

Rolf began to retch, but nothing came out of his mouth. The others became really concerned about him. He struggled to maintain his balance. Mehmet asked Raisa to help get him into the van. Then she checked with the old man.

"Will you be able to get him into the shop by yourself?"

"Maybe not, will you come with me?"

"Yes, but there's not enough room for three. I'll walk there, I know where the shop is."

"Thank you."

# Chapter 24

Mountains to Molehills

After swallowing a few pieces of bland looking diced vegetable matter, Rolf began to recover some composure.

"What is that stuff, Mehmet?"

"That is of little importance at the moment. Are you feeling better?"

"I am, I feel calmer. I have had these panic attacks before, and I have medication for them, but it does nothing to really help unless I take it all the time, and that is not what I want. Your stuff started to act pretty much immediately."

"Good, we can talk about that later. Are you able to remember what set off the attack?"

Rolf shrugged his shoulders, and Raisa detected some defensive body language.

"You became distressed after you mentioned you had issues when you were sixteen."

"Probably," admitted Rolf, "it will pass."

"Is that what you want, my friend? To wait for it to pass and come back again?" inquired Mehmet.

"That is the way it has always been. It is what it is."

Mehmet remarked that he didn't accept such philosophy, and coming from anyone else, Rolf could well have become agitated or even violent.

"I cannot remember you feeling strange when you listened to my many battles with hell on this Earth. It was almost an addiction inside you. Did you find comfort in someone else's burden being worse than your own?"

"No fooling you is there, Mehmet? It was never just hearing about your continual struggle with cruelty. That was half of the addiction, the most important part was how you came through it, time after time. I drew inspiration as well as calmness from your tales. The medication I had from doctors, at best gave gradual calm, but nothing beyond that, no positive therapeutic effect. I find it difficult to believe that you failed to realise how much you have become some kind of standard bearer for me, the problem is that I have no idea how to follow you."

Mehmet smiled, while Raisa became inextricably tugged toward this emotional whirlpool. She spoke quietly as she took a huge risk of alienating the two men.

"To receive help and understanding, you have to bare your very soul. I couldn't do that until I was adopted at the age of seven. It was the first safe haven I'd known. I was still a child, and that helped me, because my mind was so flexible. I had to learn a new language at the same time, and instead of that being a chore, it gave me the outlet to speak about my secrets to others. At sixteen, I imagine it would be extremely difficult, but it has to be faced. It must help that you are with two people who have also suffered severe trauma, and although not knowing Mehmet's story, I seem to be hearing that it was as bad as your own. If it would help you to open up, I'm happy to share my baggage, and of course listen to your own."

Rolf's eyes became glassy, he stared at the ground and stayed silent. Mehmet reinforced Raisa's suggestion.

"These terrible events always bring a burden of guilt as well as the loss of loved ones, and any hatred of perpetrators. I ask Raisa if she agrees."

"Indeed, I found that the clawing guilt was the most difficult to deal with. It was easy to feel hatred because it was justified, but not being able to prevent what happened was the worst scar for me."

Rolf acknowledged everything they said and yet he tried to postpone any open-heart surgery. Mehmet insisted that they stay together, in his shop, until Rolf at least began to sketch in the rudiments of his mid-teenage life. He asked for more of Mehmet's herbs and was given two more pieces. After an uncertain start he managed to speak in general terms about the initial shock, but not the aftermath.

"I came home from school. It was winter and the snowflakes tumbled slowly from above. I parted from my friends at the usual place and walked the last few hundred metres on my own. The lights in the house had not been switched on even though it was getting dark. That was unusual because my mother should have been preparing the evening meal. We were quite a wealthy family and father insisted on having everyone together at mealtimes. The four of us had to say prayers before we could eat. My brother, who was two years younger than me, often complained about this, and father sometimes grounded him without pocket money for disobedience. The front door was locked, which was also strange, so I rang the bell. My brother was always home before me, and his bike was leaning against the garage door. There was no answer. The garage door was also locked, so I went around to the back of the house. All of the damned doors were locked, then I noticed an upper floor window; the catch was open. I climbed the drainpipe and shuffled along the window ledge until I could get my fingers underneath the sash. It took a long time to put one arm through the space, cling on to the inside window sill, and ease the sash up a fraction at a time. I could not get it open more than twenty or twenty-five centimetres, but I managed to poke my head through, put my other arm inside to grip the sill, and heave my body the rest of the way. The house was silent. I called out several times. I began to feel scared. I checked the bedrooms – nothing. The stairs were creaking as I sneaked down to the hallway. The grandfather clock chimed in father's study and my heart pounded as the fourth note indicated the time. I had never noticed the shadows so vividly before, cast by the dying sun. I killed them by switching on the lights to the hall and landing. As I crept slowly from room to room, I could find no reason for my sense of foreboding, even when all of the downstairs lights were on. The kitchen was confusing because the vegetables were ready to be cooked, arranged in a neat row. I sat there trying to figure out why my brother's bike was there and he was not. Nothing made sense. Now that I was calmer, I looked for a note or at least some explanation of an empty house. I had forgotten the garage. The door into it from inside the house was unlocked, and I peered around it to see that father's car was not there. I began to wonder if there had been an accident. That must be it, Claude had fallen from his bike and broken a bone. As I reached for the garage light switch, I saw that several tools were missing from the wall rack above the chest freezer. Only father used them and they were always in the same place, polished and hanging vertically. I counted six empty spaces. I still have no clue what made me do it. It made no sense at all. I opened the freezer."

Rolf seized up, then started to stutter almost inaudibly.

"Their h... heads were look, looking straight into my eyes."

Raisa and Mehmet kept silent, they had to let him break through this barrier. Eventually, he tried to carry on.

"It was just their heads, side by side, but no bodies. Mother and Claude just looked at me. I could not close the freezer, I felt that I should want to. I could not touch them, not even to close their eyes. Then it hit me. Father was missing from this horror, and so was his car. He must have found them like I did, and gone to the police. I rang the police immediately, but they had not seen him at the station, and there had been no disturbance reported from our house or telephone. When I told them what I had found they said not to worry, and that they would be there in a few minutes."

Rolf looked pale again and Mehmet called a halt to his torment.

"That is enough for now. You have to take this in steps. I will not go home tonight. I want to stay here with you, because you must not be on your own in that hotel."

There was no resistance from Rolf, and Raisa held his hand.

"I'm staying as well. You're with friends now. You look exhausted, try to sleep. We'll be here all night."

After less than an hour, Rolf succumbed to Mehmet's herbs and fell into a deep sleep. It was almost three o'clock in the morning and Raisa whispered to Mehmet.

"I'm getting a little cold, and anyway, I need to leave a note under the door of my parents' room to let them know I'm not in my own room. Rolf is pretty settled and I'll be back soon."

Mehmet nodded, held her hand and thanked her profusely for agreeing to stay. She tiptoed out of the shop, hurried up the deserted street and shivered as the onshore breeze stiffened. She scurried to the elevator and alighted while searching her purse for the suite key card. The door opposite hers opened and a man was backing out of the suite. She knew it was Valerie Becker's room. To her astonishment, Valerie was hanging on to the man's hand and Raisa checked her stride. It was to no avail, Valerie came further into view, reaching up to kiss Nikos, and was wearing only French knickers, no top. Valerie caught sight of her and covered her breasts, shrugging her shoulders at the same time. Nikos turned, hurried past Raisa, and left Valerie to deal with the scene.

"I'm sorry," said Raisa, "I didn't mean to...I mean I've just come back from a night out and..."

"What the hell," replied Valerie, "my husband does not care, so why should you?"

"Yes, of course, it's none of my business. Well, goodnight."

"It certainly was. Vive la difference!"

Inside the room, Raisa flopped on to the bed, reflecting on the contrasting episodes of Rolf's confessional and Valerie's apparently clear conscience. Her thoughts skipped to Aron, and his rapier-like legal brain which offered undiluted logic as a solution to a patently emotional problem. In a way she was pleased she'd interrupted Valerie's triste, it added that third apex to the triangle. Throwing on some slacks and a cashmere jumper, she left the room and headed back to the flower shop.

Rolf was still breathing rhythmically, and showed no signs of subconscious conflict. Mehmet had a kettle steaming away and offered her tea.

"Thank you, I will. I understand you've had a hard time too. Don't worry, I'm not asking to hear about your past, but I do hope Rolf can purge the remaining memories of that macabre situation he suffered as a boy."

"I am sure he will. And what of your dark wounds? You hinted at them but without really painting the picture which is in your head. Would you be offended if I asked you to talk about this unhappy childhood when Rolf has had enough sleep?"

"I still find that hard to do with people who've never been through such atrocity, but when it's a sharing experience, it is therapeutic. I am moved by Rolf's fortitude in getting this far in life as such an apparently level-headed person, without being able to confront his nightmares."

"We compensate in our different ways. We look to others a lot of the time, more than we should. We have to be selective with those we trust. I learned that lesson only after many mistakes. I am guessing you recognise what I mean, you and Rolf can help each other. I know this from a dear friend of many years ago. I am now an old man, but I do not intend to become a silly old man, and think I am rid of the dark thoughts. I fight them every day by making a new friend. Giving away flowers is not all about selling more flowers. Finding some good in people you have never met before is free medicine against the enemy. You and Rolf should become good friends, this I know."

# Chapter 25

Seeds of Doubt

A new dawn. Rolf awakened, trying to set the events of last night against his well-worn public persona. It was as if the outpouring of demons had been but a dream. However, the illusion lasted only a minute or so. When he looked at his watch, saw Raisa asleep in an armchair, and Mehmet making coffee, all in the back room of the shop, he remembered the herbal sedation. Then the revelation of the open freezer, and everything came back into focus.

Mehmet heard him stir and once the yawning and recognition of the surroundings was evident, he smiled.

"Relax, the coffee is ready and I have some cereal which you may like."

"Mehmet, about..."

"Let it lie. You will know if and when the time is right to continue. It has been many years in the making, so it will take time to loosen its grip."

The voices woke Raisa.

"Good morning, that was quite a short night. I smell fresh coffee, may I help myself?"

"Certainly," enthused Mehmet, "and there is fruit or cereal, please take what you need."

"Just coffee is fine right now. I need to shower, so I'll get breakfast at the Paradiso. How are you feeling, Rolf?"

"Good, I think. Those herbs sure do the job, are they addictive, Mehmet?"

"I am afraid so. But I will not give them to you, I will control how much you take. I hope Raisa will join us again soon."

Rolf looked at her, enquiringly. She smiled and confirmed that she would, took a few sips of the overly strong coffee, and left. On the way back to the Paradiso, she could visualise the hatching of an intriguing plan. She also needed to text Aron, feeling guilty about having temporarily but totally annexed his ruined vacation from her mind, until now. Of all the people she didn't want to bump into, there was Valerie, just leaving reception at such an early hour. Raisa politely stated that it looked like being another scorcher.

"It does," said Valerie, "that is why I am heading to the seafront, a light breeze and some shade is the order of the day. Then, I will be off to look at properties with my person of interest. Sorry you had to see that last night, but life goes on."

"I don't mean to intrude any further into your privacy, but are you seeking to buy a holiday home on the island?"

"Yes, but who knows if it will be just a holiday home? Why do you ask?"

"It probably won't crop up again, but if my husband and I come back here, I think I'd rather have a quiet place to stay. I mean, the hotel is wonderful, but a villa would be nice. I like the idea of getting to know more about the local people. Opulence is all very well but it isn't reality."

"It would seem we have the same vision. If you wanted to come with me to get an idea of what you can buy for your budget, just let me know. Nikos is a local man and he knows the market."

"Ok, I might take you up on that. Enjoy the shade."

*

Aron received Raisa's text and he updated her with the latest prognosis.

'Blood numbers looking better, swelling much reduced now. If tomorrow's tests show same trend they will consider discharging me before our anniversary. How are things? You? Parents? Plan B'?

She grasped the nettle.

'Out before the big day? Great. I'm good. Mum and Dad still amaze me. Plan B? I have mellowed a little. Can discuss when you return'.

The reply was instant.

'Wow, I'm nervous. Can't wait. Love you'.

He sat up on the side of the bed. Privately, he was actually shitting himself about the outcome of what he'd set in motion, but he kept telling himself that getting closer to Raisa was essential in heading off the doldrums of cosy slippers and cardigans, in other words, saving their marriage. They both wanted rebellion, naughtiness, excitement, freedom of expression, and trust. They were all important if they were to recover the feeling of being soulmates again. Less going with the flow, and more sculptured deviance, to which they could escape when they had need. Plan B was but one avenue to help Raisa release the wild child she used to be before her adoption. At that time she'd lacked being safe and secure, now she was drowning in such stable luxury. Stefano and Bianca could have been a heavy anchor on this vacation, but in fact, up until now, they'd been a great help. It was time for them to step back. Plan B would be a serious hurdle and parents simply couldn't know anything about it, never mind participate, they would find it obscene. He had to be honest, he was still shitting himself. Walking on hot ashes with bare feet was also stupid, but you could hop off at any time without losing all credibility.

*

The local news carried reports on the status quo of the next bailout and the escalation in the migrant problem. This double-edged sword had until now been asymmetric. A blunt edge and a sharp one. The bailout had affected all of greater Greece, whereas the real threat of being overrun by desperate people seeking food, shelter, and a new beginning to their lives, applied only to the islands. Athens was responsible for finding a holistic cure, but until today had only suffered directly from one of the two conditions.

Leros, Kalymnos, Kos, and Lesbos had been in clear and present danger of losing their identity to the tide of incomers in late 2015. This latest bulletin, however, described how a ship with two and a half thousand migrants had docked in Piraeus, only eighteen months earlier; it was déjà vu. A second wake up call for all the governments of Europe. Footage of looting in the islands was starkly contrasted with the orderly disembarkation of hopefuls in Piraeus. It was but a stone's throw from Athens itself, from where they could be issued with travel permits, so that they could be dispersed around Europe. Life would go on in Skiathos, but for how long? Western European holidaymakers were relatively immune to this threat to their regular way of life, but there was muted concern amongst the indigenous population.

*

Jean and his father, Gerard had met with the specialist in Prague, and although the prognosis wasn't complete, there was confirmation that although the revolutionary treatment was still awaiting full approval, it was probably Gerard's last hope. It was also stressed that time was not on his side in weighing up the decision. Father and son discussed it overnight and the clinic was informed that they would go ahead.

Gerard wanted to speak about his will, particularly in relation to the green energy company. He waved away Jean's protest that it could wait.

"Apart from a generous amount of capital, which will take care of your mother for the rest of her life, I want to hand the running of the business to you. Whatever you choose to do after that is no longer my concern. It can be sold, or you could try to let the experts already in place have more autonomy while you make only the major decisions. Whichever route you take, I have one final request of you. I was going to ask you to consider this even before I was diagnosed."

Jean braced himself, already uncomfortable with what he had just been told.

"This hotel of yours, in Greece. I understand it's performing well. Is that true?"

"Definitely. Better than I could have hoped. I cannot claim much credit for that though. The previous owner and builder came up with the concept, and actually assisted me in finishing the build, as well as setting up the personnel to run it. But it is making money, plenty of money. Why do you ask?"

"My board of directors agrees with me insofar as the entire European Union is at a tricky crossroads. The leaders press ahead with ambitions of federal and fiscal union. That in itself may or may not be sensible, but the timescale they have outlined is ludicrously unrealistic. We should only have been where we are now in twenty years' time. But they couldn't wait to bring in countries which didn't meet their own entry criteria, so they fiddled the books. What we see now was totally predictable, a situation in which a small number of countries subsidise a multiplicity of struggling ones. This burden is about to sink the healthy economies, and then what? Your hotel is in one of the countries in trouble, but in a peripheral part of that country. Greece. Whether or not it defaults from the Euro, it will need help to restructure the economy. Green energy will become more important to them. Very low cost green energy can become the powerhouse of their recovery. When you add to this the fact that they are still heavily dependent on tourism, my idea comes to the rescue. You should build another such hotel, but ensure that all energy can be supplied with our products. In this case, we have developed super-efficient low cost heat pumps, which, once installed produce virtually free electricity. Then repeat this with more hotels until awareness brings other construction companies to our door. Jean, this would also give us a bond which will remain long after I am gone. Will you at least consider this proposal?"

In heightened emotional state, they embraced, Jean was all but overwhelmed with this validation from his father, because he'd never before had anything but scathing humiliation.

He texted Rolf, updating him on the situation, emphasising the fact that he would be staying longer in the Czech Republic.

*

At breakfast, Bianca pushed the note, which had been pushed under their suite door, in front of Raisa.

"It says don't worry about you not being here, but you are here. What's it all about?"

"That guy you claim to be the owner of the Paradiso, had a bit of a funny turn, and the flower man needed help to get him in the van. We took him to Mehmet's shop and sorted him out with some homeopathic stuff, and then I came home. I left you the note because I thought he might have to go to hospital. He seems ok now."

"Oh really, so he owes you a favour now."

"Leave it Mum, he just had a dizzy turn. Come on, Dad, get her on the lead, she's like a bitch in heat."

"I'm beginning to think you're right, Raisa, but she'll be ok when she's had her morning walk."

Raisa pushed the remnants of her breakfast to one side and declared she was going to the flower shop to check up on Rolf. Bianca also stood up, as if she was also going to check out Rolf. Raisa put her hand on her mother's shoulder and pushed her back into her seat.

"No, no, Daddy's going to take you for your walk. See you later."

When she arrived, Mehmet indicated that Rolf wanted to continue his 'therapy'. She settled into an armchair and he picked up the story. The hesitation of the previous session was gone, replaced by a smattering of anger.

"When the police arrived and saw what was in the freezer, their attitude seemed to have changed from when I first reported the incident. They asked if my father had a car, then why it was missing. I told them again that I had been later getting home from school than my brother, and father would normally have been at work when Claude got home, but by the time I arrived he should have been there. They asked if I could drive, and when I said I was too young, they said that was not what they asked. They then demanded my father's work phone number. They were told by his head office that he had left at his normal time. So, the police then told me I should go with them to the station. I thought it was to keep me safe, in case the murderer was still lurking about. I could not believe it when they began to ask where I had been, and to account for every minute since lunchtime. I was a suspect, and they seemed to think I may also have killed my father. I freaked out, and it made things worse when I failed to remember the exact times for when the school football match finished, and later when I split from my friends on the way home. For some reason I could not be sure of all of their names. I was confused as to whether there were seven or eight boys in the group. They told me they were going to bring in a social worker before they asked more questions."

# Chapter 26

Veins of Evil

Sitting in her usual seafront space, Valerie waited for Nikos to call her mobile. They had decided, after his hasty retreat from her room, that they should be a little more discreet. He left his office and got into his car, drove to the end of the main road, and parked in a back street. Valerie got up two minutes later and sauntered to the same spot.

The property they had selected for viewing was the most remote of all they'd checked so far. Arriving just a few minutes earlier than the agreed appointment time, they saw the owner speaking with a man on the doorstep. Politely waiting for him to leave, they then approached the villa. It was perched on a hillside to which there was only one road. The expansive layout was all on one level and the architectural style was an eclectic mix of modern and classical Greek buildings. Large windows admitted lots of light. The winding road terminated at the property, a feature which Valerie liked, being at the head of a cul-de-sac.

Nikos apologised. "We are a little bit early, I hope that's not inconvenient."

The woman shook her head and invited them in. The tour was very thorough and Valerie found no fault with anything, so she gave the signal for Nikos to ask relevant questions. For some reason the woman seemed cagey with her answers. Then she explained.

"The man who left as you arrived only arranged his appointment this morning. I thought he would have left by the time you got here. He offered me a lot of money to rent the villa. When I told him it was not for rent he increased the offer, saying it would only be for a short time. I said no, it was my father's house, and that he had died recently. You see, my mother is coming to live with me now. Then the man said something strange. 'By the time you find a buyer and go through all the legal procedures, I will be gone. If it helps, you can even continue to show people around when I am not in'. For some reason his presence disturbed me, and I was pleased to see you arrive. Anyway, are you interested in making an offer? Because I am not so happy to enter into a rent agreement."

Valerie indicated that she liked the property, but couldn't make a definite offer for a few weeks. The woman shrugged her shoulders and thought carefully about her reply.

"I will speak to my solicitor about this man's offer. It is a lot of money to refuse for a short contract, but as I said, he did make me feel uncomfortable. He had a computer thing with him and every time I answered his questions he typed words into it. They were foreign words; I could see them, because of the way he held the computer in his hand. Please let me know if you decide to make an offer, so that I can work out what to do."

Nikos thanked her and they returned to the car.

"What a strange situation," he said.

"Yes, but it suits me because I cannot proceed right now even though I love the villa. Let me speak with Klaus again."

*

Rolf asked if Mehmet and Raisa would mind if they continued his revelations on the boat.

"It is pretty stuffy in here, I need some air."

They agreed and walked with him to the mooring. They sat on deck under a retractable awning and he resumed.

"When the woman from the social service arrived, I thought she was going to take me to a safe place, because there was no way I could go home. However, she explained that her presence was requested because an appropriate adult had to be with me during further questioning, as my mother was dead and father was missing. When I heard this it confirmed my feeling that I was suspected of being involved in the killings. They asked me again about father's car, and I suddenly thought I could help them in finding it. I knew the registration, make and model. This voluntary information changed everything. The car was found outside one of the meat packaging stores of his company. The head office had told the police that he had left work, but had no idea he would visit one of the refrigerated storage units. He was inside, having sent everyone else home early. The police found him in the middle of dismembering the bodies and reducing the parts to 'minced meat', which he was mixing with regular beef mince. Even though he was caught red-handed, he was very calm, and said he was almost finished. Only when they tried to lead him away did he become extremely agitated, saying he still had to bring Rolf. Although this meant I was no longer a suspect, I somehow felt no relief, and that should have happened immediately. I had to know what had made father want to kill his entire family. The answer lay with another body which had been with those of my mother and Claude. It was that of Uncle Sebastien. He was no blood relative, but that was how we always knew him. He was often invited for dinner, took me and my brother to the zoo, and was made to feel part of the family. Police DNA tests later showed he was actually the biological father of Claude and myself. A criminal psychiatrist was brought in to examine the murderer, and after many sessions, declared him to be mentally ill. The court hearings seemed to be interminable, and during all of that time, I was never allowed to see him. The final verdict sentenced him to be placed in an institution for the criminally insane. I got to see him at last, but by then he had suffered a stroke and was unable to speak anymore. He passed away three years ago, without me finding out why he did what he did. The psychiatrist finally agreed to meet me after he died, but all he could tell me was that Uncle Sebastien had been followed by a private investigator who was hired by the murderer, and he had obtained irrefutable proof of my mother's infidelity. With all the financial and influential resource available to the murderer, chairman of a company which supplied food products to all major supermarkets in France, he had been able to call in favours. He had his own DNA tests done with samples from my mother, Claude, Sebastien, and myself. The results confirmed to him that he had been living in the midst of Satan's disciples. You can guess the rest, he wanted everything and everybody involved completely exorcised from his life. His words were apparently – 'to purify myself'.

"Over the years, I have tended to shy away from people for whom wealth is a necessity. It is as if it is a destructive gene, not unlike those which cause deformity and cerebral abnormalities. The strange and only exception to that is my friend, Jean. I know you are sure to ask, so I must save you the trouble. Be assured that apart from Jean, I have never told anyone else about my past. I changed my name to my mother's maiden name – Pirez, and I would like you to respect what I have told you in confidence. I do feel as if I may have started the process of coming to terms with my guilt of being late from school that day. I could possibly have saved them. Jean thinks he understands me, but he has never suffered the way we have."

Rolf declined any repeat of Mehmet's herbal Nirvana and smiled. Raisa couldn't resist kissing him softly on the cheek, and uttered her support.

"We three seem to have a lot in common. I'd never have guessed you were anything but a playboy, like Jean, but I'm pleased you're not. Maybe I'll tell you my story one day."

They spent another hour together before going their separate ways.

*

Stefano and Bianca, replete from their unhealthy breakfast pondered where they should spend the day. A different beach appealed, and they narrowed the choice to Troulos and Mandraki. The latter had to be accessed by a walk through a swathe of woodland, described in the guide map as a small forest. They parked the Audi and followed the neglected trail signs to three wavy blue lines.

"You know, Stefano, I don't think Aron sees that Raisa isn't the same woman as she was when they got married. She's our daughter, she's his wife, but in reality she's nobody's anything. As she grew up with us, that little, damaged girl took a long time to believe she wasn't going to be moved on again. It was a tough time for us too. Gradually, it dawned on her that not only did we love her so dearly, but she could manipulate that love to her advantage. You must remember how we had to set boundaries for her, but they had to be boundaries which didn't cause a setback in her willingness to trust us. I think Raisa has reached that stage with Aron, but I don't see him standing up to her now. He always considered himself lucky to have landed his dream woman, and she knows that. Raisa asked us to come on this break and his body language says he's simply doing what he's told. He doesn't want us here but just falls in with her whims. It's not a recipe for us becoming grandparents, is it?"

"So, that's what your real concern is. Please keep out of this, Bianca. It's not our place to interfere. Raisa often appears to be a cold, unsympathetic person. But, from her experience in life, a lot of people's complaining is nothing more than self-indulgence. Aron is more perceptive than you give him credit for, even if he projects a laid back attitude. He hasn't become a very successful lawyer without being a good judge of others, but he still needs to wind down in his personal life. I'm right about this, and you know I am."

"Ok, but don't say I didn't mention this if things go pear-shaped after we get home. Women have a sixth sense when it comes to these matters."

"Not that old chestnut again. Let's find a beach bar and stop talking for a while. I wonder what those guys are doing."

Over to their left, in the thicker side of the woodland, three men appeared to be cooking something on a log fire. It was another hot day and the woods were very dry. Stefano was quite disturbed.

"I wonder if there is a lifeguard at this beach. Those men mustn't realise that just a few sparks could set this area ablaze. Maybe we shouldn't go any further, in case we get trapped."

"Now who is being alarmist? Come on, you're right, a drink is what we need. Then you can go and look for your lifeguard."

The beach wasn't as nice as the guide had implied. There wasn't a lifeguard, so they finished their juice and left. The fire was still smouldering as they headed back to their car, but the men were nowhere to be seen. Stefano went over to see whether the fire needed further quenching, to ensure it wouldn't reignite. He poured half a bottle of drinking water over the ashes, and pulled as much dry undergrowth away from the blackened logs as he could.

When they returned to the main road to check out Troulos beach, they passed the three men walking in the direction of Skiathos town. They didn't appear to be looking for a lift, and had no backpacks or any kind of kit to carry. They had to be sweating profusely, as the heat haze on the tarmac warped their single file images on the pathless road. Nevertheless, Stefano and Bianca could clearly see that they were all wearing long trousers and jackets.

"There's something fishy about those guys."

"From agony aunt to Hercule Poirot in less than an hour. You never cease to amaze me, Stefano."

# Chapter 27

Suspicions or Suppositions

Valerie waited until she was back at the hotel and alone before calling Klaus. She wanted some definite answers, not 'possibly, maybe, all in good time, as soon as I can' and the like. She played a strong card.

"Hello, darling. I have eventually seen an exquisite villa but it is under offer from someone else, however, the owner said she was still open to discuss other bids. Apparently she put that in the advertisement, that offers could be made right up to the closing date."

"Val, I told you that I could not release any funds at this time and that..."

"No you did not, you said you _would not_ release any funds at this time. But earlier in our vacation you said that a villa here would be only a small part of what you expected to free up from downsizing the car business, and there is still the partnership with Nikos; that is not completely necessary, is it? Look, Klaus, you promised me I could find a property for us here, and I am going to hold you to that. I am not coming back to Koblenz, ever. Do you understand? I shall stay here, even if we have to split up. I am utterly tired of being nothing more than a chattel in your empire. If you break this promise, I will feel I have been betrayed, and it will be for the last time. If you want a divorce, just say so, and I promise there will be no need to confront you with a solicitor, provided we can agree a reasonable settlement. I really believed you when you made that promise, surely you are not going to let me down yet again?"

Klaus hit a tidal wave of indecision, something he'd never felt before. He could always see the prize, regardless of the obstacles. He was unable to see anything but misery at this moment, and she was demanding an instant answer, a reliable answer, not another promise. He buckled emotionally, and yet his instinct held firm.

"I have to come over there, now, well, tomorrow. I always intended to keep my promise, Val, it was just a matter of getting my business house in order before embarking on further risky investments, like a villa in a failing country. I suppose we can sell our house here in Koblenz, if you really are sure about the villa you just viewed. I would like to see it for myself. We can go together to make a binding offer. I want you to be happy again, Val, it has taken this crisis to make me see precisely how much I actually need that to happen. Can you leave it with me and I guarantee I will text you my arrival time?"

"That is wonderful, Klaus. Do not text me though, please call me, and thank you from the bottom of my heart."

*

Raisa was introspective. She convinced herself that feeling such a bond with Rolf was natural, given the events of their early lives. It was therefore not a relationship which others, including Aron, should sneer at. But it would actually rule out Rolf as a candidate for plan B. Aron wanted her to find sexual freedom as a means to closer union with his wife, what he didn't want was another relationship as competition. What had just happened was very unfortunate. She'd masturbated, thinking about physical intimacy with this man, who'd now become someone she really wanted to know better. All she could cling on to for the present was the joint pledge of Mehmet and herself to Rolf, and the promise that it would never be disclosed to anyone else. Perhaps her own plan hadn't gone up in flames, it only needed strong nerves and unwavering discipline. She texted Aron. She didn't want discussion, only acceptance.

Aron stared at his phone in utter disbelief.

'Hi, darling, before you get back, I want to surprise you. No questions, just a yes or no will do. I'm going to take your advice. I want to experience sex with another man. Maybe this man will turn me down, I don't know. If this happens, we have to be honest with each other afterwards. The man is someone you know, his friend gave me a flower by the steps. He's very attractive and I think he likes me. I won't be disappointed if you say no, but I will be happy if you say yes. Love, Raisa'.

Aron winced with pain. The mental variety was augmented by his uncontrolled erection, pulsing around the swelling. Until this moment the lump had steadily receded. His stomach churned, one wave after another. His heart was about to burst when the blanket of logic descended over him. He'd meant what he said to her about plan B. If things didn't change, he wanted out. To be released. Grappling with the 'what have I done' scenario was always expected, it would be nothing but a surge to be dampened. Nevertheless, he was on a steep learning curve on the difference between fantasy and reality, even if the latter hadn't yet happened. Everything considered, it was probably better if they were apart when this union took place. He was already wanting to know more than he should, and his stiffy just wouldn't go away. Everything in life can be altered by timing. The nurse came in for her daily inspection of Bigger than usual Ben. Aron tried to avoid embarrassment by sending his text, thus negating eye contact.

'Hello, Raisa. You wanted a one word reply. Sorry, not possible. The bastard had better not turn you down. Please don't contact me until I get back. I want to hold you again before we speak. Aron'.

The nurse couldn't keep a straight face, courtesy of the intermittent reflex twitches while she cleaned the healing wound.

Raisa wasted no time in tracking down Rolf. She was told by reception that he was with a member of staff, in the basement. It took about ten minutes for him to emerge from the locked door, after having insisted to the under-manager that he should double up their reserves of generator fuel, following the recent storm. He was pleased to see Raisa and even happier to take a walk around the grounds with her.

"Is this about your own story?"

"No, that will have to wait. Are we really friends now?"

"If that's ok, then yes, I would like that."

"Well now, to me, friends help each other when they are in trouble. So, I have a favour to ask you already."

"Ok, I suppose I should hear it then."

"We should sit down, over on the wall beside those flowering bushes."

She was very nervous and he sensed it.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"You could say that, but don't worry, it isn't anything sinister. My husband had an accident and..."

"I think everybody heard about that, but I also heard he had to go to Athens for more tests."

Raisa wondered if Bianca had let the cat out of the bag.

"Yes, but he's coming back soon. My request is really his request, but it's me who has to make it happen. I won't try to dress up what I'm going to say, it's quite bizarre to say the least. Things haven't gone well for us recently, and he thinks it's because I was a virgin when I married him. He wants me to sow some wild oats in retrospect. He says most couples have had sex with others before tying the knot. I have resisted this urge of his, thinking it was a sick fantasy. But, he explained it in another way to me, and I think he could be right. I've told him I'll do it, so will you help me?"

"Wait a minute, you want me to have sex with you, just to sort out your husband's head, right?"

"Yep, that's what he wants. Nuts isn't it?"

"Well, it sure does not seem to be the right stimulus for mending a relationship. I feel something is not right about this, Raisa. I must respectfully decline."

"Ok, thanks. We can still be friends then?"

"Of course, I, I'm just, well, actually I do not know what I am now. You are not annoyed with me then?"

"No, well, maybe just a little. I expected you to say what you did. But, if I'm truly honest, I thought you might find me attractive enough to have to mull it over for a couple of hours. Still, never mind, I'll just have to find someone else."

"You mean you are going to proposition more men, only to fulfil his fantasy?"

"He says he'll divorce me if I don't. You know, to get this out of my system. Look, I can't explain what's in his head, but I don't want to break up with him. That's all, don't worry about it."

"Does he know that you were going to ask me?"

"Yes. I told him, and he's ok with it. Really, he is. You couldn't make it up, could you? See you."

"Just a minute, I cannot believe what I am actually hearing. Come to the boat tonight, I want to talk about this in an environment which is respectful to you, not sitting on a wall and discussing an assignment you have."

"Ok, what time?"

"When you are ready, you will surely know."

*

The woman who was selling the villa, which Valerie had her heart set on, had spoken to her real estate agent to report the interest by the man who wanted to rent the property. She was advised to tell him to contact them, but as she'd accepted his request to view without informing the agent, she had no contact details for him. She told them that Nikos and Valerie had seen the man, but didn't seem to know him either. She then decided that the agent should bring forward the bid deadline, and if no suitable offers were made, the house should go to auction. When the agent heard this, and agreed the instruction, they contacted Nikos, as the last viewing was in his name. In reality, this was a direct invitation to make a low offer with early completion specified.

Two days later, when Nikos had suggested to Valerie that the house would certainly be sold quickly in an auction, she authorised him to make a move. The agent didn't respond to the offer, and when pushed, they said they hadn't been able to contact the vendor. They were going to send someone to her house to deliver the bid in writing.

That night, it ricocheted around the island that both the woman and her mother had gone missing. The house in which they were living showed no signs of burglary or forced entry. The local police were in a quandary, they couldn't determine if the two women had been seen in the last twenty-four hours, so they checked the property which was for sale, at the request of the real estate agent. There were no signs of any disturbance there either. Out of the blue, the police received a call from the vendor.

"I heard from someone on the ferry that I was supposed to be missing along with my mother, but we are just visiting my mother's sister on Skopelos. We will return soon."

They were relieved to hear from her, and she asked who had reported her as a missing person. When they told her the real estate agent had called at her house, she asked if the police could get the agent to call her mobile.

When they did, they were told to put everything into reverse gear.

"I have decided to rent after all. My mother does not want the house to fall into someone else's hands. Sorry about this but we will not be selling."

# Chapter 28

The Art of Self-Delusion

After their disappointment with Mandraki beach, Stefano and Bianca spent the rest of the day in Troulos. A nice enough resort, but they thought it was lacking in amenities for such a busy place. On their way back to Skiathos town, they passed the three men they'd encountered earlier, still heading in the same direction and not trying to hitch a lift.

"There are a lot of bus stops between here and Mandraki, and the service is frequent. Look at them, Bianca, they haven't even taken off their jackets, how many miles would you say they've walked?"

"How would I know that? Five, six miles maybe. Why are they bugging you so much?"

"They can't be locals. I have a feeling they might be migrants. The news the other day, about the influx of these people has worried the islanders. I've heard the hotel staff talking about it. Even though Skiathos wasn't mentioned in the migrant bulletin, a lot of folks here think it's simply a matter of time before they find their way to these shores. It's a long coastline and the authorities are seriously under-prepared for patrolling and preventing landings. The infrastructure was never set up to deal with anything but petty crime and disorderly behaviour. Migrants and their traffickers look for such weaknesses."

"Give it a rest please. You're becoming a merchant of doom, what happened to Stefano De Marchi, the lion of Milan? I think we should go to Skopelos for two or three days. I want to be out of the way on Raisa's anniversary, and you've told me twice already to butt out of their troubles. Anyway, apart from Banana and Abelakia beaches, I prefer the quieter hidden coves of Skopelos. You never know, you might get lucky again."

"No argument from me. We can ask if the hotel can make a reservation for us."

"No way, I want to drive around and make my own choice. Romance in the moonlight needs careful thought."

"Ok, we'd better find Raisa pretty sharpish and let her know. It's a great idea, Bianca."

*

Nikos couldn't imagine the vendor of the villa, changing her mind so quickly. Something didn't sit right. When he asked the police if they had checked out her explanation that she was visiting her aunt on Skopelos, they basically told him it was none of his business. That rebuff only served to intensify his doubts. He had her name, he knew what she looked like, and it was a small island. He convinced Valerie that such a rapid about face didn't match up with the woman's concern over the individual from whom she had this lucrative offer.

"I can take some time off work, and I also have a relative living on Skopelos, so we can check this story out for ourselves. Even if it's true, we could spend some time there. I would like to ask you about what the future holds for us. I don't want to be the cause of any problem in your marriage, but I would like to have some idea about what is in your mind. Getting away from Skiathos for a few hours or even an overnight stay might give us the privacy to be open about things. What do you think?"

"I like the idea of playing detective, it would be the same as being a character in a book. And I do want that villa, whatever does or does not happen with Klaus. We can talk on Skopelos, Nikos, but one thing I can tell you now is that I will not make a rash decision before he gets back here, where I can pin him down on how he sees the future. I owe him that, at the very least. Let that happen first, so, yes, we can go to Skopelos and see what comes of our little sleuthing game."

"Good enough. But, unless we find the woman, her mother and her aunt, and then we hear the words from her mouth that she does want to rent the villa, you shouldn't look at this as a game. I think the police have been lazy with respect to following this up. The least they should have done was to ask her to go to the station on her return to Skiathos. If this man is in such a panic to tie up a short rental contract, she should surely have instructed her solicitor or the real estate agent or both. When I spoke to the real estate agent this morning, they did have the name of her solicitor – that was necessary if the property went to auction. The agent hadn't contacted her legal people, so I did. I was told they knew nothing about any rental agreement having been authorised. I don't want to jump to premature conclusions, but let us keep an open mind."

*

Raisa's parents tracked her down at the poolside. She was lying with her eyes closed, picturing what her forthcoming assignation with Rolf would be like. She'd also been grappling with how to keep this from her mother and father without upsetting them.

"Hello, darling," shouted Bianca from the other side of the pool, "we're back."

She was startled by the sudden abortion of her daydream and was temporarily disoriented.

"What? Oh, hi, Mum, where have you been?"

"To some out of the way beach, but it wasn't what the map hyped it up to be. So, we've been talking on the way back about your big day."

"Really. I don't think I'm going to like this. Go on, what have you cooked up?"

Stefano was beginning to get frustrated.

"Just tell her, Bianca, it's not a big deal and we've decided anyway. Right?"

"Ok, ok, don't jump out of your pram. We're going to Skopelos for a couple of days. We liked it there and we want to explore the whole island. And, we want you and poor Aron to have some time on your own. Isn't that why you came on vacation in the first place?"

"I suppose you're right. It's the least Aron deserves, he has put up with our family without complaining. So, when are you going?"

"We thought we'd take the early evening ferry. Will you be ok on your own tonight?"

"Of course, I'm not a little girl, Mum. Go on get your stuff and I'll come down to the ferry with you. I guess you're taking the car?"

"Definitely," said Stefano, impatient to get on with packing a few essentials, "chop, chop, Bianca, no time to lose, there's only an hour or so to the ferry departure, and we need time to look around Skopelos to find your romantic accommodation."

They left Raisa in a chipper mood. One potential banana skin safely in the trash.

*

Rolf called at Mehmet's shop on his way to spruce up the cruiser for Raisa's visit. The shop was closed, which was unusual at this time of day. He also noticed that the urn he'd given his friend had dry soil, and the unique plant was wilting. There was an outside tap but Mehmet always put the urn inside before he locked up. Rolf filled a bucket from the tap and gave the plant a badly needed drink.

As he turned on to the path close to the mooring there was quite a heated discussion going on in front of the boat next but one to the cruiser. The lone police officer was surrounded by at least eight or nine owners of other moored craft. The dispute was fierce, but in Greek, so he couldn't get a feel for what the problem was. He asked one of the owners and he was told there had been attempts to break into some of the boats. Nothing had been stolen, but engine inspection hatches had been opened and presumably attempts to bypass the normal key start had been evidenced. When Rolf told this boat owner of the man with the computer tablet, the police officer was dragged over to speak to the Frenchman. Rolf gave a description of the man and insisted that he'd already mentioned this to the police, possibly expecting the altercation to have been reported, but it hadn't. When the police officer was then told of the divers who'd recovered the tablet from the sea, he actually wrote something down. Rolf went on.

"This guy refused to take no for an answer, then he fails to press charges for assault or loss of property, and finally he pays two divers a lot of money for a midnight dive, when it would have been much easier during the day."

The numbers of owners had now swelled well into double figures and the policeman assured them that there would be an official inquiry now that they had Rolf's statement and description of one possible suspect. He also said they would institute a nightly patrol car check.

The crowd dispersed slowly but confusion remained. Rolf kept replaying the incident in his mind. Try as he did, no more sense could be made of the presumed failure to start up any of the engines. Other than it seemed to nullify his original feeling that the tablet man wanted an ocean-going vessel. At the moment, his soiree with Raisa had priority.

*

Klaus was on the cusp of returning to Skiathos, ticket and boarding pass in hand, when he had a call on his mobile. The chief executive of the bank gave him the news that the transfer of euros from his Greek car sales, courtesy of Kostas, had failed to arrive. The deadline for closing off further deposits to the ring-fenced fund was rapidly approaching and could not be extended.

"There must be some mistake. I authorised this three days ago, and I accepted a ludicrous charge for making it a same day transfer for such a large amount."

"I'm afraid there's no mistake, I checked this personally when I was informed. I spoke to your offshore people and they confirmed that there was a glitch at their end. I'd advise you speak to them as soon as possible."

"Very well. I shall call you back as soon as I straighten them out."

Klaus dialled the number and his temperature rose with each 'please hold while I transfer you to someone in higher authority' passing of the buck. Eventually he spoke to someone who acknowledged there had been a 'misunderstanding' and it was being corrected as they spoke. The excuse didn't even stand up to scrutiny from Klaus, let alone someone conversant with the mechanics of despatching large amounts of binary wealth over the ether. He sussed that they'd deliberately delayed it because of current Greek restraints on withdrawals. The offshore bank had to see the full amount of the funds from Athens in their hands before they could transact the second part of the switch to Klaus' German bank. He was furious that they hadn't bothered to chase this up, threaten the Greek bank, or even inform him that there was a hitch. He called Athens again and was given another sob story, the bottom line of which meant that the deadline for getting the funds to Germany wasn't going to happen. He called the chief executive of the German bank and told him the tale, and regrettably to strike his funds from the kitty. Resignation didn't come naturally to Klaus, and he decided to detour to Athens to sort out the cretins who'd sat on their arses and looked the other way. Valerie was going to love this. On balance, he concluded that he should call her.

She remained silent while he ploughed through every detail, waiting patiently for a chance to ask but one question.

"When will you be here?"

"I should have been there tonight, I have to stay overnight in Athens and get the only flight to Skiathos tomorrow. I cannot bring to mind the flight times because I am just getting on to the Athens flight from Dusseldorf now. I promise to call you as soon as I get to Athens and book my onward flight. I feel lost for words, Val. This time it most certainly is not my fault."

"Ok, you had better hurry, or you will not make the Athens flight. Speak to you then."

He was pleasantly surprised that there had been no tantrums.

# Chapter 29

Psychological Bleach

The cooler night air was welcome, the first for many days. Harbour lights flickered and bobbed against the dark canvas of the bay. Raisa was striving to suppress random flutters, which suggested things could go wrong. Perfectly chilled wine aided her fragile confidence. It was only when she began the exchange of words with a casual remark that the ambience shifted dramatically. She mentioned that Rolf hadn't spoken about what happened between his father's death and the present. Except for his declaration that he always avoided being drawn to people who were encumbered by wealth. The response was unexpected, not in its tone, but in its content. All of a sudden, Raisa visualised the high wire walk on which she'd embarked. A very thin line stood between her and the other side, looking down only confirmed that one wrong step could mean a swift descent into the abyss. Turning back was no longer an option. Rolf's voice held its calmness.

"First, Raisa, you must tell me if you ever contemplated revenge on the architects of your misery. I have not had the chance to hear your story yet. Perhaps you should let me pass through your emotional shield if you truly are serious about wanting to use me to your own ends."

"It seems as if I've offended you by my suggestion, if that's the case, why didn't you say so when I first asked for your help? Maybe I should go."

"In my book, people do not ask favours of friends which demean that very friendship in the process. We have not done that yet. So, help me to understand exactly where you are coming from, by telling me the unabridged account of Raisa, the little girl. If you cannot do that, then I am sure you can accept that I cannot help you. On the other hand, take yourself back to that night you waved to me from your balcony at the Paradiso. At that moment no words were necessary, it was in the eyes, and I would have liked you to come to my room. So, ok, where do we go from here?"

Raisa took a gulp of wine and faced the dilemma square on. She asked him to refill her glass. Her voice was steady and the nerves evaporated as she got deeper into those times in Bosnia. Rolf never uttered a word, even when she seemed to be calling for a break. Finally, with the honesty of her disclosure of why she accepted Aron's proposal to marry, he detected a wobble. He offered his hand. She pushed back the sympathetic gesture, and challenged him.

"So, do you still see my request as purely one of using a friend? Perhaps I'm still seven years old in my head from time to time, a little girl whose dreams were extinguished in a flash, never to return with the same innocence. I've had to limit my horizons ever since. Anyway, to answer your question, unlike you, I had no individuals to mark out as targets for revenge. I had a deep-rooted resistance to ever trust anyone again, until my adoptive parents gradually wore that down. I trust my husband completely. I don't know whether it will change your opinion of me, but that night I waved to you from the balcony, I waited until Aron was asleep, and then took a shower. I pictured you touching me, I closed my eyes and touched myself, still seeing you caressing my body. We kissed passionately as I began to lose control, and I couldn't believe how completely spent I felt when the release came. You can maybe imagine how that was for someone who was a virgin in all respects before I married. I didn't even know you as a person that night, and now I find you've suffered in the same way as I did. I have a kind of bond with you now, and it seems I want you even more than I did when I waved at you from the balcony. It's a crazy situation, and it's a pity I've offended you by my clumsy suggestion, let's just put it down to my inexperience. We can still remain as friends. Goodnight."

As she got up to leave, she couldn't contain the tears. She felt a firm hand on her shoulder. Rolf pulled her close to him, lifted her up deftly, and took her below deck.

*

With darkness falling, Stefano and Bianca found their refuge. A family guest house at the apex of a tiny cove. The view, even in the receding light was astonishing. Trees followed the curve of the cliffs, but were set ten metres back from the edge. The rock which defined the semicircle was on different levels, yet each individual outcrop was quite flat, making it ideal for a picnic. The gentle slope down to the rocky ledges was littered with clumps of wild flowers, and they formed a kaleidoscope of colour, each hue running into another. The room was small but well-equipped, scrupulously clean, and the aroma of the evening meal had them salivating. There were only four other guests, all Italian, to the delight of Stefano.

Having changed from shorts and T-shirts into more formal clothes, they were introduced to their fellow guests. It didn't take long for them to realise that the Italians came back year after year. They knew everything about the island, but didn't overload the new arrivals with 'must do and don't' lectures. Just ask was their approach. The evening meal was a simple but delicious blend of fruits of the sea, and the Italians produced a surprise for Stefano, a glass of vintage grappa.

It had been a strange day and despite being tired they joined the others and the family on a large balcony, to see the last embers of the sun as it sank into the inky sea.

Stefano protested when they got to bed.

"I haven't had too much to drink. You said we had to find a romantic setting, and what could be better than this?"

Bianca replied coyly.

"You're going to have to do better than remind me of the requirements of the setting, and then expect me to just roll over to copulate. You must convince me of your desire, and judging by that floppy bunny, I think it'll keep till tomorrow night."

*

Valerie and Nikos were ensconced in traditional pension accommodation, in the largest village on the island. Although it was marked on maps as Skopelos Town, it was known to the local people as Choros, and it faced the mainland port of Volos, across the sea. The blinding white plaster of the building focussed the eye on the arched windows, picked out by newly painted azure frames.

They needed to speak with town officials as well as Nikos' relative. They didn't get off to a good start, as the dignitaries had important things to do, such as organising the island festival music. It was deemed an honour to be asked to perform, and therefore due respect had to be given to the task of trimming down the list. They were given an early morning appointment for the following day, so they set off to see Nikos' cousin.

He hadn't bothered her with the real reason they were visiting. Or even that he would be with Valerie.

"This is Alexandra, the great of course! My favourite cousin."

"Your only cousin, Nikos. You must introduce me correctly to your friend."

"Valerie Becker, this is my cousin Alexandra Kallis, wife of the famous artist Georgios Kallis, who has never sold a painting."

She smiled and punched him, bidding Valerie to take a seat. Alexandra made coffee while Nikos explained precisely why they were there.

"I see, but how do you think I can help?"

"First of all," said Nikos, showing her a picture, "have you seen this woman or anyone resembling her, in Choros? I'm only talking about the last few days. She was supposed to be with her mother, who has a sister living here."

Alexandra studied the picture and shook her head.

"What do you know about the sister? That could be the best place to start, if she lives here."

Nikos frowned.

"That's the problem, I don't know the married name of the sister, if she was married, but the records office in Skiathos doesn't have a registered birth of a sister in the maiden name of the vendor's mother. It could be a mistake, but that's unlikely."

"Did you say they came here in the last few days?"

"Yes, but I don't know exactly which day."

"Well, you could look at the security videos to see if you recognise them getting off the ferry."

"Brilliant, Alex, but how the hell do I get to see that footage?"

"A bribe would be the best way."

Valerie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Nikos scoffed at the suggestion, but Alexandra persisted.

"You remember that artist who has never sold a painting? He has a good friend in port security, a Serbian, with a shared passion for brushes and palettes. Goran thinks Georgios' work is awesome, so if you were to buy a picture from my husband, I am sure you could take a look at the videos. It would take lots of paperwork for an application to be assessed and rejected by the port officials, because you are simply not the police. I can call Georgios and ask him to check if he can make it happen. Yes? Or should we just have something to eat and knock on every door in Choros?"

She made the call and Georgios was more than happy to get involved in such a clandestine prank. He said he would set it up and call back.

*

Raisa called Aron. He picked up and got in first with the good news.

"I was just going to text you. I'm being discharged tomorrow morning, so we will be able to do something special on the big day. Can you meet me at the airport? I'm booked on the daily flight to the island."

"Absolutely, so they've said you're completely clear of any further complications then?"

"Yes, but I still have to keep gladiator in training mode only. How are things over there?"

"Well, I was going to keep this as a surprise, but what the hell, I slept on Rolf's boat last night! I did what you asked me to."

Silence.

"Hello, Aron?"

"I'm still here. You mean you actually..."

"Yes, I did, honey, and you were right, it has released a lot of tension from inside me. You sound upset, you haven't changed your mind have you? I told you that might happen."

Aron couldn't disguise how he felt.

"So, how was it? Better than me, I suppose. I need to know."

"I should have waited until you got back. Listen, I don't think describing every detail like a commentary on a football match is going to help. I'm trying to tell you I want to have sex with you as soon as we can. I did enjoy last night, especially not feeling guilty, because my husband wanted this to happen. You were sure about this, are you saying you don't want me now?"

"Of course not. Imagination and reality are different, that's all. You were also right, it's a shock to hear that your wife enjoyed giving herself to another man. I guess it's natural to feel my cage has been rattled, and if I didn't, this whole plan B would be nothing but a sleazy perversion. I love you, Raisa, more than ever, if that's possible. I'm not sure how I'll handle meeting this Rolf though. In my mind, it was always going to be some unidentified geezer. Did I mention that I love you? Can't wait to see you tomorrow."

"I'm tingling all over now. How about I find us a room for tomorrow night near Abelakia beach, away from everybody else. That's the beach where we saw Mum and..."

"Yes, I know. It's a great idea, but aren't you forgetting about the bishop being withdrawn from front line duties?"

"No, in fact that may be a nice coincidence. There are all kinds of other ways to...well you know."

"You mean..."

"Yes!"

"You didn't let me finish."

"The answer is still yes!"

# Chapter 30

Life without Frontiers

Rolf was finding it difficult to get Raisa out of his head, until a distraction declared its presence. Concern over Mehmet mounted when he found the shop was still closed. He asked various employees at the Paradiso if he'd been there the previous night. They either didn't know or they said he hadn't.

He was unsure about reporting this to the police until he'd made further searches himself. Although Rolf knew he had a friend on Skopelos, Mehmet had never mentioned his name or where on the island he lived. The people in neighbouring shops said they hadn't seen him for two days, and that they couldn't remember that ever happening before. Rolf could also see unopened mail behind the shop door. But the strangest thing was that his old van was parked in the street. He peered through its dust-covered windows but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The hospital, that had to be it, he'd felt unwell and had gone there to be assessed. It turned out not to be the case, in fact they had no record of him ever needing treatment or diagnosis. As far as they were concerned he didn't exist.

He returned to the shop and scoured the rear waste storage area for anything he may have dropped if he had left in a hurry. It was only when he returned to the front that he saw that Mehmet's favourite plant in the urn had died. This propelled him to the police. He was so well known and respected, that they reacted quickly, saying they would send a car around the island to check out other hotels and mobile shops. This actually prompted Rolf to mention Mehmet's fisherman friend, and they said they knew him. He would be informed and asked about the last time the family had seen the old man.

*

Both Nikos and Valerie looked intently at the video footage. The camera was suspended from a high pole and had an excellent coverage of the disembarkation ramp. It was explained to them that the function was mainly targeted at car registrations rather than people, but it captured both.

They were suffering red-eye fatigue and there was only one afternoon's footage left to inspect. They picked out Stefano and Bianca in the latter stages, but there was no sign of the vendor on any ferry on any day since the viewing of the villa on Skiathos.

"It stinks of a lie, Valerie, but why?"

"Maybe she just wanted to avoid losing face after telling us that there was no way she would rent."

"That doesn't explain why she's nowhere to be found. We should go back to Skiathos and speak to the police."

"Ok, this has really got its teeth into you has it not? You wanted to talk more about us. To be or not to be, that was what you wanted to know."

"You made it clear last night that you like to have sex. Is that all it can be?"

"Tell me what you want, and where you see this ending up, Nikos. Klaus has to tell me the same. I have decided one thing about what I would like to happen. It might surprise you. Do you want to hear it?"

"It sounds like bad news for me. Perhaps you should explain more about what you said with respect to not troubling Klaus with a solicitor if a settlement for divorce can be agreed amicably. Before you say any more, I've given it a lot of thought, and regardless of what you may or may not decide, I'm going to tell Klaus I no longer want to have a partnership with him. I can put his idea into my existing business without his investment. I don't want his money to complicate your decision."

"Really? Outfoxing the fox himself. That is neat. It might even fit with what I was going to say. I quite like your intention to go solo and drop the partnership plans. I want to see how Klaus reacts before I say any more. You said it was clear that I still liked having sex, and you are right, but I do need space as well. Sex between us is new and will surely become less impulsive over time. To preserve the feeling of freshness we need more than mere physical intercourse. Can we just leave it there for now?"

"As you wish. Let's get to the ferry."

*

The three men seen cooking food in the forest of Mandraki were walking back in that direction. Same clothes, same single file, no talking, and no hitch-hiking. Nevertheless, a car pulled up and they got in. They were dropped off close to the forest with new food supplies. The driver shouted instructions to them as he turned the vehicle around. The men nodded, said nothing and disappeared into the woodland. They passed by their previous cooking site and lit another fire further into the forest. One of them took the supplies to a dilapidated wooden shed with only partial roof cover. The other two checked on something underneath the shed, seemed content, and began their culinary task for the evening.

*

Aron was roller-coasting from elation to abject fear over his phone call with Raisa. He rang her again.

"Hi, I forgot to ask about your parents. Where are they going to be when we stay near Abelakia?"

"They went to Skopelos for a few days. They wanted to give us a chance to be together on our anniversary, just the two of us. It was their idea, not mine, but I'm very happy about it."

"Ok, that sounds good. Now that you've said what happened, do you fancy staying in Abelakia for more than one night? I'm not really looking forward to bumping into gigolo George yet."

"Sure, if that's what you want. We could use some time on our own to see how we're going to start our relationship over again. It's taken a hell of a push for me to see things the way you described them, drifting along or worse still, a crisis. It scared me when you mentioned divorce. I'm so looking forward to seeing you."

"Start again? I'm not sure I understand. I thought it would be like snakes and ladders, we merely trod on a snake, we don't have to slide all the way back to the start. Am I missing something?"

"Listen carefully, Aron. You've opened my eyes again. I'm not actually doing anything with my life. You're the breadwinner and I go out with ladies who lunch. I'm wasting time just taking such a narrow view of fitting in with other people's expectations, mostly those of my girlfriends. I need a passion, a hobby, adult education, doing something for others, painting pictures, writing a novel, whatever. I shouldn't be your little woman whose only real decision is what to cook for dinner, or whether we eat out. Everything I've been cosying up to in the last two years is crap. I've even met a nice guy, someone I respect. You should meet him when you feel you can."

"Wait a minute. I never intended for you to have another relationship, my only concern was to help ours. I'm not sure I'll ever want to meet him socially."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this. You insisted I went out and propositioned a man, like some whore. I seriously thought you were screwed up, but I looked beyond the implications and decided it had to be with someone I actually had something in common with. Otherwise it would have been logical for me to get somebody drunk and charge them the going rate for my company. It may interest you to know that, unlike you and even my own father, some people haven't had a smooth path to normality. Between the kind of atrocity I endured and your glide to stardom, there are a lot of people who strive to keep their heads above water and little else. I'm not going to break a confidence with Rolf, but suffice it to say he's overcome a few difficulties in his life. I admire what he's achieved. What would you say if I objected to you and a female lawyer colleague of yours meeting regularly in a wine bar, to discuss the intricacy of getting a nailed-on guilty man pronounced innocent by a jury? Don't you dare try and convince me that this kind of double standard is remotely acceptable. Think about this, Aron, we can pick up with it when I collect you from the airport."

She cut off the connection before he could reply. He swallowed repeatedly before admitting he'd definitely poked the hornet's nest. Not only that, the queen was going to change more aspects of his life than he'd bargained for.

*

Klaus was snarled up in Greek inertia in Athens. He was told that amounts of that size could no longer leave the country in one transaction. He told them to divide it into however many tranches was necessary to get it to Germany. Even then he had to agree to a form of lubricant to make it happen. He texted Valerie to let her know why there was a new estimated arrival time in Skiathos.

She was quite relieved, and sent a bland reply. She made no mention of Nikos' newfound appetite for independence in the proposed venture.

When the last fraction of the transfer had been witnessed by Klaus' own eyes, and receipt confirmed by the German bank, he called Valerie.

"At last it has been done. I am already at the airport, waiting to see if there is another island I can fly to and then take a short ferry ride to Skiathos."

"Do not let this get you so stressed, Klaus. I know you are doing your best and I am perfectly fine here. Nikos has the feeling that there is something fishy about the vendor of the villa, but we have to wait for the police to look into it."

"The police! Hell, that is the last thing we need, no way do we want to get dragged into anything to do with them. I have just heard the lady telling me that it is impossible for me to get there until tomorrow morning."

"Ok, darling. Get yourself a decent hotel. Bye."

The Skiathos police were tasked with keeping a look out for three, maybe four people, apart from all of their other routine demands. The vendor woman and her mother were bona fide citizens, and were definitely not present at either the villa for sale, or the vendor's own address. The chief of police had limited influence on his counterparts on Skopelos, but asked for their cooperation in tracing the two women.

The man with the computer tablet was low priority, as he hadn't apparently done anything wrong, other than having been seen trying to hustle the vendor woman into accepting his lavish offer.

Mehmet was an odd ball. His fisherman friend had echoed Rolf's concern insofar as they hadn't seen him in the last forty-eight hours, and claimed he always contacted them on a daily basis about what fish were available. The other, perhaps more sinister aspect was that he was ubiquitous on the island, not only the town. It was hard to find anyone who claimed they didn't know of him, even if they hadn't spoken to him. So, it shouldn't have been a case of looking for a needle in a haystack, rather a glow worm in a dark room. Rolf didn't think the cops would find his friend by continuing to interrogate individual people as the sole strategy. He went to the town's main fuel station and asked if anyone could tell him when Mehmet last filled up his van. One of the attendants said he'd already mentioned this to the police, and the bland repetition of his statement struck fear into Rolf.

"It was the evening of the day before yesterday, or maybe the day before. He was talking to someone I did not recognise, a tall man wearing dark sunglasses. He did not appear to me as a local man, not the way he was dressed. And he was holding a computer tablet in one hand while using the other to use the pump."

"Right, can you remember what kind of car this man was driving?"

"It was an off-road vehicle of some kind. Black. I am trying to remember the make but it has gone from my head. We have timed receipts, and cameras over the forecourt. The police seemed to think it was of no importance."

"Hey, Mehmet is a very close friend of mine. I am the man who runs the Paradiso, I know it is irregular but can I take a look at the receipts and the camera shots? Mehmet may be in serious trouble."

The attendant nodded his affirmation. Rolf cursed as he discovered that Mehmet himself obscured the registration number of the off-roadster, until it drove away, at the exact moment the camera switched focus to the other line of pumps. However, it was the same punter who'd tried to hire Jean's cruiser, and the time on the receipt was 16.17.

# Chapter 31

Game of Pawns

Rolf texted Raisa to update her with his growing fear for Mehmet's safety. She joined him at the cruiser and they embraced. Priorities had to be re-jigged, and Rolf repeatedly brought up the recent visit Mehmet had made to Skopelos.

"His concentration seemed to fade when he returned, something was distracting him, even though he tried to carry on as normal. I should go over there tomorrow. I have no idea where to start looking, but I feel pretty useless here. If he was still on Skiathos, surely someone would have spotted him, he is so well known. What really worries me is the shot of him talking to this guy with the computer tablet, while he was buying fuel. I just know that man is trouble. In fact, I remember when I first mentioned the altercation I had with the idiot, Mehmet told me the next day he had seen someone fitting his description coming out of a property on the main road to Banana beach. I must check that area out today and then get over to Skopelos on the first ferry tomorrow."

"I'll come with you today, but I have to pick Aron up from the airport tomorrow. We had an argument on the phone, and I have to talk things through with him."

"Ok. Should we check the main road? Can we use your car?"

"Of course, I'll get the keys from my room."

After some three hours of door-stepping they gave up, nobody had seen Mehmet for a few days, and there was only vague recollections of the tablet man, but not together with the old man. They made their way back to the Paradiso, and before they separated, Rolf asked if they could spend one last night together on the cruiser. Raisa tried to resist but it was futile, they would board the vessel after dark.

*

Klaus made a last minute decision to call in unannounced on Kostas, primarily to tell him in person that he had acted on their last meeting and drawn a line under their agreement as of that day. Valerie had at last seemed to have become compliant with his dedication to bolting down all the hatches, before he submerged into the impending Napoleonesque exile on Skiathos.

It was an informal understanding he had with Kostas, so there were no legalities to disentangle. Klaus agreed to allow all cars already in the pipeline to be exceptions to this decision, and now be offered at a healthy discount. He was finally clear of financial debris and loose ends, so, he could rest easy despite missing the only flight that day. He settled back, joined Kostas in a post-tapas ouzo and thought, 'what's the big deal anyway, if I'm spending the rest of my life on a bloody island'.

*

Jean texted Rolf to say his father wasn't initially responding to the new treatment, and had asked his son not to wait around for any revival of hope. 'He wants me to kick off a project over there. I am on my way back. We can talk soon. I would like you to be involved. I think I must have matured a hell of a lot in a week, although maybe it is nothing more than a temporary aberration. So, I should be able to run his idea past you tomorrow'.

*

Stefano and Bianca had really blended well with the Italian guests, shadowing them around the more remote locations. Their favourite was a simple clearing in the centre of countless cypress trees. It housed a tower which dated back to mediaeval times. Consisting of only a door, a spiral stone staircase and a polished metal plate angled to an aperture, it was an early warning system of sorts. At approximately midday the plate reflected the intense sunlight to a lookout point on the highest ridge in sight. The plate had small fins which caused slow rotation, even with the mildest breeze. Being imperceptibly concave, the metal surface constantly focussed and refocussed the transmitted light, indicating that invaders were on their way. They could be traders or conquerors.

Bianca tried to imagine being on such a tiny island, without a care in the world, and in a trice, unspeakable hell would break loose. She put her arm around Stefano and whispered in his ear.

"Everything you held dear in those days was so fragile. We take so much for granted now."

She was still in an ethereal mood when they sat down to dinner.

"Remember, darling, too much grappa will dampen your ardour."

"Funny you should say that, Bianca, to me it seems to be getting ardour and ardour."

She elbowed him, and they excused themselves.

*

Aron was counting every minute to his discharge papers. He realised only too well that he had overplayed his hand with Raisa. His normally agile brain wasn't cutting it right now. He'd picked up the phone dozens of times and put it down again, believing it would only make things worse. He needed to look Raisa in the eyes while he asked her the most dreaded question, currently still fermenting in his mind. He wandered lazily to the refectory and found it was closed. Taking a grip on his fading confidence, he left the hospital via an emergency door. The grounds were expansive and he found a bench facing the port. While he watched the comings and goings of all manner of boats, ferries and ships, he found himself at a crossroads. He wanted Raisa, even more than his rewarding career, but at the same time he knew that being a top legal eagle had relentless demands, and that wasn't going to change, not one iota. He'd been exclusively centred on Raisa having baggage to shed, when suddenly he had clarity of vision. He conjured up an image, one of his own suffocating perceived raison d'etre. It had been with him for many years, beginning so soon after leaving school, and now it was rolling towards him in the form of a giant boulder. It was about to crush him. Indiana Jones could probably have outrun it, but that was the movies, he had to turn and face it. He had never had a screaming passion to study law, it was his way of dealing with paternal expectation. He snapped out of this trance, suddenly aware that he was undergoing a serious reality check. Was it too late? Life didn't provide second chances, at least not on the main menu.

He strolled back to the hospital building, vowing to reclaim Raisa.

*

The Pawns

It was dark and it was time. Mehmet took his usual route to the Paradiso, without the van. He held only a handful of flowers. He was welcomed by the reception staff and he proceeded to the dining room, which was busy. A special evening was promised in the ballroom, with a famous Greek singer topping the bill.

Having given away the flowers, Mehmet joined the throng in the ballroom. He looked around at the expectant audience and waved to one or two people to whom he'd regularly given flowers, he was so popular.

Three men in suits entered the car park and quickly dispersed into the shelter of the many manicured bushes. The man with the tablet was sitting in his vehicle outside the grounds. He was furiously typing in commands, then he stopped. He took off his dark lenses.

Rolf and Raisa were in the throes of mutual climax when they heard the noise. He ran up to the deck, looking around for an explanation. The fireball told him the direction – the Paradiso. Raisa was close behind him. They stared at one another in disbelief, only for a second, and hurriedly threw on the minimum items of clothing to cover their nakedness. Rolf kicked in a glass case inside a lidded bench seat, and produced a bolt action shotgun. Jean had insisted he would use it on any fancy Dan pirates if they ever tried to relieve him of command. They jumped into Raisa's Audi and were at the hotel car park in less than two minutes.

The devastation wasn't yet complete. Rolf realised that the fireball must have been the extra generator fuel he'd brought in. The initial haze was clearing sufficiently to see injured people emerging from the rubble. No sooner had they appeared than they were being mowed down by men with automatic weapons. The police, such as they were, arrived in time to see this, the fire and ambulance emergency services could be heard, faint but getting louder.

Rolf switched into response mode, pushing Raisa to the ground and yelling at her to stay put. He knelt, looked through the accessorised infra-red night-scope, and took down the closest of the three men holding an automatic weapon; the other two were still discharging rounds at the injured staff and guests who thought they were fleeing from certain death. Rolf rolled over several times and surveyed the scene. Two police officers were struck by automatic fire which was now coming from his right, but he couldn't see any human outline, only the tracer sparks. Fortunately, they hadn't yet realised that they had lost a man, and simply continued to spray death at some arbitrary arc of humanity, now frozen to the spot, unable to fathom what was happening.

Rolf crept along a line running behind the bushes, which still provided shelter to the gunmen. Stealth was the only ally he could count on. He was hyper-charged with adrenaline coursing through his veins, when his opportunity appeared, albeit at someone else's expense. Ambulance and fire crews had arrived almost simultaneously, having been despatched to investigate an explosion. The gunmen saw their vehicles and suddenly stopped shooting. Background noise aided their deception, as parts of the building were still collapsing, and the inferno was crackling ferociously as it spread. Rolf saw the gunmen begin to shift position. His gut feeling was to shout a warning to the crews, but in a split second he ditched that idea, he had to take out the automatic weapons, whatever else happened to him or the crews. He crept silently forward and got close enough to one gunman to blow off the back of his head, knowing that the other might get a lock on him before he could repeat the bolt action cocking sequence. As soon as he had fired that first shot, he rolled into the nearest bush. Then, unexpectedly, nothing happened, other than the crews advancing to help their injured colleagues, all but one of them, who had been peppered with several rounds. The crewman must have heard the crack of Rolf's shotgun and flashed a torch in his general direction. Before he could take advantage of the distraction, Rolf saw the spit of fire and the crewman fell to the ground. Rolf reacted instantly, running at blinding speed to the periphery wall, which was relatively unlit by the blazing fire. It proved to be a good instinctive decision. He could now see the silhouettes of those who couldn't see his. He walked calmly towards the lone gunman, who'd resumed normal service in his indiscriminate erasure of stricken people. Rolf was only two metres away, now acutely aware of sweat beads running into his eyes, but they felt very cold. He forced himself to wait until the killer had to change magazines. Only then did he speak to the gunman, letting him realise that he had now become the quarry. The skinny-suited killer turned, eyes burning with hatred, and he grappled clumsily with the weapon. Rolf lifted the shotgun and felt a sweet tingling in his arm as he fragmented the alien face, distributing it all over the car park.

The boots on the ground manoeuvres were now over, but the extent of the carnage was still unfolding. Without the gunfire, and between the rumbles of falling masonry, people were spotted on what remained of upper floor construction. The spread of flames was such that some decided to jump to their death rather than be consumed.

The fire hoses were now in full delivery capability and the ambulance crews had an unhindered if gruesome access to the wounded.

Raisa found Rolf, despite the stifling, thickening haze. She recognised his voice, he was calling her name, shouting for her over and over while waving his blackened shirt. She fell at his feet sobbing uncontrollably. He was now suffering from acute adrenaline withdrawal, but managed to pull her from the ground. They walked to where the remnants of the police force were standing. Rolf wiped his eyes and caught sight of the Tablet man's car at the same time its engine fired up.

"There, it must be him," shouted Rolf, "the guy who was last seen talking to Mehmet. Come on, get after him, the bastard cannot be allowed to escape."

One of the police vehicles reversed quickly to allow the others, including Rolf, to jump in. It then screeched after the off-roader, which was careering through the town. The tablet man wasn't a very capable driver and he knocked over several locals who were making their way to the scene. The police car sped after him and as it closed the gap it shot its full headlight beam on to his car, causing it to swerve along the harbour front. The chase went on for miles, when suddenly the black four-wheel-drive car shot into the woods at Mandraki. Rolf cursed repeatedly, refusing to accept that they'd lost him.

# Chapter 32

Aftermath

Dawn had not yet broken. The fire fighters and ambulance crews were still desperately trying to cope with the tasks in hand. The Paradiso itself was nothing more than a haunting crossword structure of vertical and horizontal concrete beams. Flames continued to lick the residual pile of stone and marble, which was still too hot to pick apart. All manner of vehicles were used to ferry the injured to a hospital which couldn't cope.

The senior police officer remaining in the station had alerted the head of municipal affairs at the same time the emergency services had been despatched. As a consequence Athens had been informed of the explosion and the state of emergency on the island. Many disparate elements were activated, one with immediate priority was National Security forces. A temporary lockdown status was declared for the island. This in itself leaked out to the labyrinthine media structure, and the incident became breaking world news in less than an hour.

Aid was already on its way from Athens. Helicopters with water bags, food, medical supplies, and special operations personnel. All phone lines were jammed, some by decree, the mobile networks by overload.

Despite the TV news channels being monopolised by the tragedy, Klaus and Aron, Stefano and Bianca, were sleeping blissfully. Raisa sat, statuesque at the scene, suffering flashbacks from tanks rolling through her village in Bosnia. It was only when someone had asked if she was hurt that she engaged fully with the rescue operation. She helped to carry charred bodies, which filled her lungs with the stench of seared flesh, laying them in lines. Some official was actually counting and noting the departed. Rapid mental arithmetic horrified her; there were at least one hundred and forty so far. It was impossible to estimate how many were under the rubble. The official with the notepad was able to recognise some of those from the emergency services and police who'd fallen, but only by their uniforms.

A cacophony of screams and moans attracted more and more arriving locals to help in carrying the injured to a safe distance, many of them begging for help, one or two pleading to be put out of their misery. Viewed from the sky, the frenetic, chaotic groups of ants scurrying here and there could have been Ypres or Dresden or London or Gaza or Mosul or New York. There was no rational explanation of why it was happening on a sleepy little island within one of the world's oldest civilisations, and also one with a strong claim to have fathered the cradle of philosophy.

Suspicion had been growing, and now it had been confirmed. Islamic State released a statement, proudly boasting that there was nowhere to hide on this planet. Preparations were then further intensified to find and apprehend the prosecutors of the mission, other than the dead gunmen, the pawns.

Rolf and his local police buddies knew nothing of the escalating international coverage. They were trying to outsmart the driver of the black off roader. Local knowledge was key, yet the officers with Rolf seemed to be in awe of his heroic action in taking out the three terrorists single-handedly. He was a natural leader, and he was disturbingly calm. He asked them why the driver would have headed here, to Mandraki.

"Look past the obvious, that his vehicle could lose us in these woods. There could be another reason, a much more important reason for him to get here before anyone else. Think. Think about what there is here that gives him security or sanctuary, or evidence he needs to get rid of. We are dealing with a fanatic, who was probably the one directing the guys with the automatic weapons. Maybe there is a stash of other stuff around here. Well?"

The youngest of the three was first to break the silence.

"I used to live near here, and I know there are a few bird-watching towers scattered around. They are not really used much these days and have fallen into bad repair. Is that the kind of thing you are talking about?"

"Yes, where are they?"

A second officer then mentioned a disused shed near a different entrance to the forest.

"It was an illegal alcohol operation which was closed down years ago, one of my first cases as a junior officer."

"I like the sound of that one. We can check the bird towers later. Take me to this shed."

They hopped into the car again and parked where Stefano and Bianca had originally seen the three men cooking on their log fire. They spread out a little on Rolf's instruction. He also told them that this guy wouldn't hesitate to kill them if he got the chance.

"If you see him just shout 'target' and get down. Leave this bastard to me."

Without using their torches, and continually adjusting their approach pattern, it took over half an hour to locate the shed. Caution was the watchword. They then spread out even further, and Rolf insisted that the others stay more than fifty metres from the hut. The sun was cresting the horizon and soon their cover would evaporate. Stealthily, Rolf snaked towards the shed. He was now less than three metres away. His breathing was shallow, the bolt action readied. He hurled a rock through an already broken window and his finger caressed the trigger of the shotgun. No movement could be heard inside the shed. Rolf motioned for the others to close in a few metres. Still nothing. He took a risk, shouting to their target that they had him cornered. Nothing. He felt distinctly foolhardy when he slowly stood up, but he wasn't in the least impacted by fear. He blasted the door open with one round and dived to the ground again. What was left of the door creaked loudly on its remaining hinge. The other officers were spectators, gripped by apprehension, which could easily turn to panic. It kicked up another notch when Rolf crawled closer to the door.

"It is over," he declared, as he stood up and walked straight through the open door, "he is already dead."

The three of them inched to the doorway, not totally convinced that the target was deactivated. The youngest peered around the frame and saw Rolf kneeling over the body.

"He has taken no hit from the shotgun. Oh, of course, look, his lips are really blue."

Rolf poked the dead man's mouth open with the barrel of his shotgun.

"His tongue is blue as well. Maybe he took a pill of some kind. If that is the case, we need to search the whole area."

They were almost ready to quit when one of the officers called attention to loose soil under the shed. They all took up a position on one side and pushed it over, revealing recent digging activity. With the shovel inside the prone wooden hut, they uncovered a cache of more automatic weapon parts, chemicals, wires and electronic chips. The bad news was that the man had taken a hammer to his tablet and smashed it to smithereens. Nevertheless they took it with the rest of the find, and the body, to the car. The corpse was dumped unceremoniously in the boot and the rest of the stuff thrown on top of it. They headed back to town.

*

Valerie had stayed overnight at Nikos' house and while he prepared breakfast she switched on the TV. They'd plied themselves with lots of wine early last evening, before indulging in outdoor sex. They'd somehow managed to sleep through the entire commotion, and couldn't believe what they were seeing on the news. Once it had sunk in, and Rolf's name was mentioned as the 'hero of Skiathos', Nikos flopped into his chair. Valerie was in shock, not knowing for certain if Klaus had made it to the island earlier after all. Was he in the hotel when the explosion occurred? She was descending into hyperventilation, and Nikos had to grab a polythene bag, sliding it over her head. Once she'd started to breathe normally, Nikos scratched his head and paced the floor.

"The newsreader said at the end of the bulletin that the authorities were looking for a man driving a black off-road vehicle of unknown make. That's the same kind of car that strange guy had when we first viewed the villa. Come on, Valerie, we need to go. Get ready please, I'll bring the car."

"What about Klaus?"

"He wasn't due in last night. I thought you said he had texted you."

"He did, but I still need to check if he managed to arrive earlier. He changes his mind all the bloody time."

"Ok, let's go to the site, if we can get close to it. I need to speak to someone pretty quickly."

They had to leave the car at Nikos' car rental forecourt and walk. The scene was even more horrific in daylight, as it was impossible to relate the smouldering ruin with what had stood there a few hours ago, and then there was the sight of rows and columns of scorched bodies, some of which had been removed to the church after being tagged with a reference code and other details. But the number lying in the open air kept on increasing. Nikos did the talking, there was less chance of being misunderstood in Greek than English. The noise level was many decibels over the legal civilian limit, making conversation difficult. Essential supplies were arriving by road and air. Some of the helicopters were taking seriously injured people who were deemed capable of surviving specialist surgery, by air ambulance to Athens. The ants were still milling around without a queen to whom they could direct their instinct. That was about to change. A large army helicopter blew ashes, clothes, and anything below a certain gravitational mass, into a whirling circular pattern. Heads turned to the sky, temporarily halting activity on the ground. The chopper landed in a nearby park and the door opened, allowing a man to disembark. He wasn't a familiar face, but that was of no consequence, he represented the crown of the Greek Intelligence Organisation.

# Chapter 33

Wasteland

Valerie's ringtone startled her. "Klaus, thank heaven, you failed to make an earlier flight then. I was so worried that you were trying to surprise me. What a relief!"

"Jesus, Val, you are alive! The networks have been clogged all morning and we could simply not get any information about survivors or anything else for that matter. I must admit, when I saw the TV pictures this morning, I feared the worst."

He broke down, overcome with emotion.

"Hello, hello, Klaus, are you still there?"

She was unable to make out his words as he struggled to regain composure. Finally, he blurted it out.

"I need to hold you, but they are telling me that all flights are being delayed for now. What can I do?"

"Stop getting so upset, darling. I am not hurt, I was having dinner with Nikos when it happened. I really am safe, honey, please stop crying, you are making me shake now."

"Those poor souls who were in the Paradiso, they never had a chance. I thank Nikos from the bottom of my heart for taking care of you, Val. Please stay with him until I get there. The news people are suggesting this may be a terrorist attack, so keep your head down."

"Yes, but stop worrying so much. I said everything is fine, so just make sure you can come back as soon as they allow flights to resume landings here."

"Ok, but I am going to check sea routes, they might even get me there quicker. Love you."

"Love you too, Klaus. I want to speak to you again soon. The authorities are taking statements from people, to try and account for those who are still missing. I have to get crossed off the list. Call me back when you know more. Bye."

She was grabbed by Nikos.

"Come with me, Valerie, I can see that hero guy, over there. People are saying he's doing something about finding the man we saw at the villa. Nobody else seems to be interested in listening to me."

She followed him and when they got close, she said, "Oh yes, I did not realise, he is also staying...sorry, was staying at the hotel."

"Yes, I know, I've seen him there, when we had dinner, remember?"

"It seems impossible to know what I remember and what I have imagined in the last few days. Sorry."

Nikos pushed his way to the front of the throng surrounding Rolf, but couldn't make himself heard. Raisa asked why he was so worked up about speaking with Rolf.

"I think I may have information about the man the TV said may be involved in this atrocity."

Raisa waved her hand vigorously to attract Rolf's attention and he gave her a questioning look. She pointed at Nikos and beckoned him to come over. He squeezed past media people and locals to get to Nikos.

"Hi, what is it? Have I seen you at the Paradiso before?"

"Yes. But I wanted to mention the man you are supposed to be looking for, the one in the black off-road car. I may know where he is."

"I cannot understand how you know that. It is, uh, kind of not supposed to be public knowledge yet."

"Well, regardless of that, we, that is Valerie and I, saw him at a property we viewed a few days ago, and the woman who is selling the house has gone missing with her mother, even if the police say she hasn't. I'm a bit worried about them."

"What was he doing there?"

"Apparently, he wanted to rent the place, and was very insistent about it, offering her stupid money."

Rolf's antenna immediately fastened on to the words – 'rent and stupid money'.

"Do you know if he had a computer tablet with him?"

"We didn't see one but the woman said he typed every word she said on to such a device. She found him to be a very strange person."

"Ok, do you have a car?"

"It would be strange if I didn't, I rent them for a living."

"Fine, we should go to this property."

As the four of them hurried to Nikos' car, Raisa and Valerie glanced at each other, the latter said, "Snap."

*

Raisa's mobile eventually vibrated. It wasn't a convenient moment for conversation, so she cut Aron off and then texted a response.

'Hi honey, forgive me, I can't talk right now. I know you must have been worried, but really I'm fine, not even a scratch. I'm helping out with the rescue operation. Security is tight everywhere now. Call you back ASAP. Love you'.

He breathed out slowly, she was alive, and by some miracle she was unhurt. That was all that was important right now. He re-texted her to say he understood, and that he was hopefully on a short list of people who would be airlifted to Skiathos on compassionate grounds. They had verified he had a wife staying at the Paradiso, and his transfer from the local hospital to Athens. She settled back and then realised that if the lines were open again she had to call her parents.

"Hello, Mum, it's me."

"Oh, Raisa, I can't believe I'm hearing your voice at last. There's no TV where we were staying, just radio, and we can't believe what's happened. We've been waiting at the ferry terminal ever since we heard the news. They can't tell us when we can get on the ferry, it's standing here doing nothing."

"Just ask her if she's hurt for Christ's sake, Bianca. Never mind the damned ferry," growled Stefano, "stone me, how did she survive?"

"Sorry, darling, I couldn't hear what you just said, your Dad's muttering as usual, are you badly hurt?"

"No, I'm fine. It's a long story and I'll tell you later. Right now I can't stay on the phone, I'll call you as soon as that changes. I'll try to meet you at the ferry, take care and don't worry about me, I haven't even got a scratch. Love to Dad. Bye."

*

Rolf was listening intently to the description Nikos gave him of the property.

"Why would he want a place like that? Massive windows, you say, this guy strikes me as needing no windows, he hides things."

"What? Can you repeat that?" asked Nikos. "I didn't hear the last few words."

"Nothing," said Rolf, "I was talking to myself. What else was there about the place? Anything you can remember."

"Nothing, except it's at the very end of a single track road, that's what Valerie liked about it."

"Ah, so it was a cul-de-sac. No people could simply be passing by?"

"Yes, and it is on a steep incline...wait, there was another thing which we didn't see on the viewing but it was in the description leaflet. The house apparently has an old well somewhere in the grounds. It takes water from a rocky stream, but only in winter. It would surely be dry at the moment."

"That is more like something I would put together with the tablet man. Did you say you talked to the police but they did nothing?"

"Almost nothing, they checked for burglars when the vendor went missing, but the agent told them that she'd telephoned to say she was on Skopelos. I had to check that out and she never got off any ferry. After that the police did nothing at all, even when I said the person she was supposed to be staying with didn't exist."

"Right, then we have to do a different kind of search, not looking for things which have been stolen, but for things which have been hidden."

*

News channels were working overtime on this story, and the aid pledges were accumulating at a prodigious rate. However, help on the ground was a different matter. Despite the United Nations trying to muscle in on the high moral ground, the Greek Intelligence people were having none of it, at least for now. Their rebuff went quite a bit further, and one newspaper quoted them as saying that both they and the EU should be doing something about migrants in a strategic manner instead of sitting on their hands, or simply bowing to those who had their heads in the sand, refusing to consider temporary closure of Europe's outline borders, quoting the Schengen agreement. They urged an announcement on implementation of a hiatus on mass migrant rescue operations in the Mediterranean, to give time to target known traffickers. It was thought to be a strange comment, if true, coming from within what had always been profiled as an apolitical organisation. What it did achieve was a groundswell of concern that amongst genuine refugees, fleeing for their lives, all kinds of others being trafficked were embedded in such masses. National Security organisations were well-versed in the techniques of hiding things in plain sight. It was an effective method when perfected. The concern expressed was mostly directed at the kind of people who'd claimed responsibility for the terrorist attack on Skiathos.

Around the globe, this theme caught fire. Vast numbers of people thought that nothing was or would ever be done about religious intolerance, spreading its blight on humanity. Unless there was some form of mass protest. Social media had centre stage in getting across the debate. However, as Isaac Newton once proclaimed, every action has its equal and opposite reaction. These views were challenged vigorously, with comparable numbers of posts promoting instead, that helping genuine refugees should be an apolitical responsibility of every nation. The debate raged on while some leaders of countries or blocks of countries hadn't even interrupted their holidays to answer questions in relation to the burgeoning migrant crisis. They were happy to condemn, even display outrage, but still needed a few days to top up their tan. The social media activity wasn't simply a one-dimensional theme. There was a developing thread that these very same world leaders were sheltering from addressing the primary cause of migrant escalation. They had, despite warning signs, never produced an effective means of dealing with the likes of Islamic State. Or if they had, it was classified, but nevertheless as yet of little impact. What virtually every quote had in common, however, was a theme in which governments in general were seen as failing in a duty of care to those who had elected them. At best they were seen as voluntary, prevaricating eunuchs.

*

When Nikos pulled up at the front of the property, the four of them looked around for an unguarded window to gain entry, as the doors were all locked. They didn't find any, and without further deliberation, Rolf smashed one at the back with the butt of his shotgun.

They entered and he told them to look for anything which didn't look kosher in a house lived in alone, by an old lady whose husband had passed away.

"Mobiles, notebooks, boxes of electrical wire, dirty dishes which were left rather than stacked, men's attire which was just lying around, not folded away. Stuff like that."

They spent more than forty minutes without turning up anything suspicious when Rolf asked Nikos if there was a basement or a loft space. Nikos shrugged his shoulders but said they weren't shown anything remotely like that, and it had been a very thorough viewing. They took a break, using the time to look for the well. It finally revealed itself, surrounded by olive trees. There was a cover placed over it, and it was secured with a locked chain. Rolf asked them to step back and blew off the chain with a single shot. By now the others were beginning to get worried about what the authorities might find and associate with all four of them. That became a real possibility when the cover rolled down the slope. Although the well was deep and dark, when Nikos recovered his torch from the car, the illumination picked out two bodies, already starting to smell and decompose in the high humidity. Nikos confirmed they were the vendor, and possibly her mother.

The other three wanted to leave but Rolf disagreed.

"If we had failed to find the bodies, I would be with you, but the money says tablet man butchered these women. There has to be something hidden in that villa. That is why he wanted to rent it. And he could not get back here after the explosion, because we chased him to Mandraki. You three wait here, I will just take another look around."

Raisa asked Valerie where her husband was, and when she was told he was stuck in Athens, it provoked a question.

"How is he going to get back? My husband is also there and he informed me on our way here that he had managed to get on an emergency shortlist for relatives of people staying at the Paradiso."

Valerie immediately called Klaus.

"Hello again, honey. I have been told you can get on a special list to fly here because I am registered at the hotel. It was Raisa who told me, you know the lady whose husband is a lawyer, Aron is his name."

"Thanks, I already found that out, in fact I am sitting next to him. We are both waiting to board, but there are no schedules any more, the flight will go when it goes, that is it. So, it could be five minutes or five hours, but I will settle for that just to hold you close again."

"Right, that is great news. I should go to the airport as soon as I can. I want to be there to meet you. It seems like forever since you left, so much has happened. Bye for now."

Nikos glanced at her through the rear view mirror, and she smiled awkwardly.

# Chapter 34

The Reckoning

Rolf only checked rooms which he hadn't done himself during the first search. He quickly skimmed through the two bathrooms before he turned into the kitchen. Cupboards, dishwasher, tumble dryer, refrigerator, and freezer all came up negative. The drawers were disorganised and bursting with all manner of clutter. His eyes settled on a pen which seemed out of place amongst the cutlery. He picked it up carefully between finger and thumb. He returned to the car, asking Nikos if he could identify the line of scribble on the pen.

"It isn't Greek, it looks like Arabic to me, I don't know. Do you think it's important?"

"It is the only item which looks out of sync with the stuff the owners had. Let us get back and see what this Intelligence Chief has to say about it."

They dropped both Raisa and Valerie off at the airport and then headed to the ruins of the hotel. It took an inordinately long time to get an audience with El Supremo. It was worth it, the man's eyes widened when he saw the pen, and he called for a subordinate. The legend was indeed Arabic, and it was in two parts. A quotation from the Koran, and a name, possibly the name of the owner on a personalised pen. All of a sudden, Rolf was the flavour of the month, he was asked to sit with the subordinate and fill in an evidence form. Meanwhile, Nikos was hanging around other Greek officials who were making an inventory of the fallen. Releasing names in the various categories would come later, but at present there were one hundred and fifty-eight dead, one hundred and eighty-seven seriously injured, and thirty-two unaccounted for.

The fire crews were confident the site was safe enough to allow debris to be moved, despite puffs of smoke swirling skywards through the windless air.

Rolf asked Nikos about any further survivors since yesterday.

"I haven't heard of any, they are just starting to drag the rubble away. I can't believe they will find anyone alive in there, it was like a furnace until the last few hours. Are you still holding out hope for Mehmet?"

"I guess so, well, I cannot do anything more here. See you later."

He felt compelled to visit his friend's shop again to look for any clue as to why Mehmet went missing for all of two days. He decided not to stand on ceremony and kicked in the front door. Sifting through every box, vase, and drawer in the shop, he was disappointed. The same applied to the van. He stood, looked up and down, left to right, scratched his chin and reluctantly let his gaze lose its pin point focus. Fatigue swept over him and then anger. In a wave of utter helplessness he caressed the dead flowers in the urn he'd given Mehmet. Tears were forming as he lifted the remnants out, more as a gesture of reconciliation than fury. There was a bundle underneath the root ball. He dropped the dried out flower stems and picked up the loosely folded cloth; a piece of paper slid from within and floated on to the cobbled street.

On his knees, his eyes scanned quickly rather than trying to read the words in sequence. The watering he'd given the plant had caused some distortion of the message. It couldn't be right. The implications were horrendous. Not Mehmet. He would never have complied. He read it again, figuring out each word from the context. The final projection of the words challenged his previous thoughts.

'Rolf,

Only you can be my redemption. I told you about a tax man who kept visiting me from Athens. It was for a different purpose. I was vetted, without my knowledge, as a Jihadist. The man with the computer tablet was sent by the tax man to give my instructions. He said if I did not do what he demanded, he would kill a hundred children by destroying the school. The children would be spared if I agreed to wear a bomb and walk into Paradiso. He brought me to this empty house on a hillside. The address is on the back of this paper, and the tax man was already here. I have been kept here until three other men arrived with the parts to make the bomb. The tax man said if I do not do as they wished I would die by being burned alive, and the children would still be killed. The tax man I know by name, and by his face. He works in Athens, but he is not a Greek. His name is Izmir Mohammed, and it is obvious he is not known as a Jihadist by anyone except me. But he must be arrested. To destroy the hotel, he said I had to be above suspicion, and popular. That was the real reason I had the tax visits, as a trick. I have to be careful or they will kill me and then the children. I am writing this note in the kitchen of the house, while they work on the bomb, and they think I am at the toilet. I will only have one chance to hide it on the night of the bomb because they are always with me. I must not say where, in case they find it on me and decide to kill the children. If you survive the bomb and read this, I hope you can forgive me.

Mehmet.'

Rolf slouched back on to the cobbles, imagining Mehmet's predicament. He knew his friend didn't fear his own death, and must have agonised over the threat against the children, without knowing if these people would keep their word to let them live. Rolf tried to put himself in that position. It was unlikely that the Jihadists would be able to organise two explosions within a short time, without compromising themselves. They would not want to be taken alive, preferring self-sacrifice, as long as Izmir Mohammed's cover was still intact. After all, he wasn't a pawn.

He pulled himself to his feet and rushed back to the Intelligence Chief. This time he didn't have to wait. The letter, together with Rolf filling in the background of Mehmet, lit the afterburners. The Chief made immediate preparations to leave for Athens, telling his next in command to keep Rolf in the loop for now, but on a need to know basis. Rolf knew the score; he was to be there purely for corroboration of a number of items and then resume his civilian pursuits. He was to be kept away from the local police, so it fell to Nikos to see that the Skiathos plods investigated the 'bodies in the well' and of course, come to the desired conclusion.

*

The aircraft taxied along the narrow runway, bordered on one side by the sea. Klaus and Aron disembarked together and made their way, with an escort, to the security checkpoint. They wearily complied without making a fuss and were finally reunited with their wives in the concourse. There was quite a bit to catch up on; text, and even phone calls were only part of true communication and there were tricky conversations ahead. But for this moment, it was unbridled relief in the form of hugging and kissing amid the tears of joy. They shared a taxi for the short ride to town. The first hurdle facing the two women, was a question of 'where do we take our stuff to?' And presumably, where we'll sleep tonight.

Valerie, in the face of recent events, had the more straightforward task.

"None of us got much chance to sleep at all. As soon as Nikos and I heard the explosion, we had to investigate the cause. Everyone in the restaurant dropped what they were doing and hurried towards the flames. After that, it was just a case of seeing what we could do to help the poor people who had not been killed by the blast."

Klaus nodded.

"It must have been terrible, did you see how that guy shot down the gunmen?"

"Uh, no, not really, that must have happened before we got there. Was that on the news? Did you hear that on the news? We were at the scene and we could not really find out anything for more than an hour."

"Yes, I heard about it this morning, it was amazing that he got all three by himself, but it did not say he came out of the hotel, only that he was staying there. I would like to shake that guy's hand. Talk about presence of mind! Surely there would have been many more dead if he had refused to put his own life on the line."

"So, anyway, Klaus, Nikos let me bunker down on his sofa, as I had nowhere to go, and I only had what I stood up in, these rags, all dirty and torn now. We have to look for another hotel, do you agree, Klaus?"

"Are you sure you do not want to get back to Koblenz, darling? This island's tourist trade is dead in the water now?"

"No, I feel a duty to those who died, I want to help put things back together, and for the local people as well. You know, Klaus, you never get to put others before yourself, do you? I mean, you would never be the captain that went down with his ship, would you?"

"I suppose not. Ok, let us look for a hotel then."

*

Out of earshot, Aron had enquired about exactly the same dilemma. Looking for a bed for the night, or getting the hell away from the tragedy.

"So, where were you when the bomb went off, in the grounds?"

"No, I slept on Rolf's boat."

"What, again? The night after you had slept there with him the first time? This had better be good, Raisa."

"Oh really, you mean it would be better if I was dead in our room rather than on his boat? Listen, Aron, I'm tired because I hardly slept at all. I was having a drink with him, as Mum and Dad were away, and as I told you, Rolf and I have become really good friends. He grabbed a shotgun when we heard the bang, and I ran after him to the hotel. It was as if it was all a bad dream. The screaming, and the gunfire from those bastards, killing poor people who'd thought they'd made it to safety. It took me back to my family in Bosnia. It was almost the same, I arrived just in time to see their burnt bodies lying all around me. I'm still shaking now, look. It was almost morning when we realised we couldn't do any more. Rolf was lucky he didn't get shot, and we had nowhere to get a couple of hours of recovery. I'm only ever going to say this once, and you can make what you like of it. Without betraying his confidence, his friendship means everything to me. It's better than sex, if that's why you seem to have a problem. Better than sex with him, with you, with anyone. I'll be his friend for life, and neither you nor anybody else is going to prevent that. If you don't like it or you want to go home, that's fine by me. I'm staying, so if you don't mind, I want to look for a hotel. And if they are all full, I'm sure Rolf would offer us a berth on the boat. And we have to think about Mum and Dad, who are trying to get back to see me, not who I spent the night with."

"I said it needed to be good. It's better than good. Come here, Raisa. Maybe I do need to meet the guy who freed your soul."

"Well, at least you know when you've really pissed me off, Aron. Let's not argue over this. This disaster has to come first. There's a lot of dust to settle, not least of all, on why this has happened at all."

# Chapter 35

Promises

Izmir Mohammed had unknowingly been under comprehensive surveillance during the last twenty-four hours. He confidently set off for work, pulling off his driveway, then he called at the local petrol station, and began filling up. The surveillance vehicle slowed and radioed a waiting squad car, suggesting that this was a good place. As Mohammed walked to the pay point, he was intercepted by a policeman, who'd got out of the regular-liveried squad car.

"Excuse me, sir. We just followed you along the road here, and it appears that your car tax is out of date."

"There must be some mistake, officer. It was renewed only three or four months ago."

"Not according to our records," said the policeman, brandishing a gadget which looked like a scanner. "There is nothing to worry about if there has been a slip up, we can clear it up at the station. It will only take a phone call. You have to come in my car, and my partner will drive yours. You had better pay for the fuel, I am sure we can sort this out quickly."

"But I know I paid the tax, my bank account was debited and I can prove it by getting my internet bank statement up on my laptop."

"If that is the case we should be able to clear you of an offence, but we have to check the situation from both sides. Do not continue to resist, sir, or I will have to restrain you. It is only a routine scan, and you will certainly have an apology if it is in error."

He complied, mumbling under his breath. When they turned on to a trunk road, he knew something was wrong. The intelligence people had wanted to pull him in without alerting his family or neighbours, or give him a chance to contact anyone else in his chain of communication to the Middle East.

Izmir Mohammed had risen to a management position in a reputable government organisation in Greece. It wasn't clear as yet whether he was radicalised in the Middle East before he came to Greece, or while he established trust in Greece prior to being 'absorbed' by the Jihadist path to glory. What wasn't in doubt was his patient selection and monitoring of Mehmet. The intelligence people had to know if Mohammed controlled other 'cells' in Europe or anywhere else. He wouldn't be easy to crack, and they had to make sure he didn't have any 'goodbye' pills on his person. His boss, the head of the tax office, had to be informed about the snatch, and the prepared disinformation which was to be fed to work colleagues. Basically, he'd never turned up for work, and his family would eventually report him missing, then and only then would it be registered as such an incident and investigation.

*

Rolf felt that his own part in recent events was at an end. That wasn't how the media saw him. He was constantly pestered for interviews. He'd also been told by the intelligence people what he could not speak about. His natural inclination was to ask them what they had actually done to neutralise the three gunmen, find the tablet man, lead the police to the two dead women, and retrieve Mehmet's crucial note. He let it go simply because he'd already decided not to claim any credit other than that of despatching the gunmen, and the lives that his intervention had saved. He wanted to come out of this whole saga without raising his profile any further. He wanted his life to change as little as possible. He was happy to be associated with taking down the three assassins, but that wasn't solely to save others. There had been a moment when he faced the third gunman. The man's fear had been emblazoned indelibly in Rolf's mind as he turned to face the shotgun, then it was temporarily supplanted by an image of his father, who'd also killed innocent people indiscriminately. It felt like legitimate revenge, albeit one step removed.

His phone vibrated and the caller showed as Raisa.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you, but we've not been able to find another hotel in town, and we don't want to be in the other resorts. Could we impose on you to sleep on the cruiser for a few nights? Before you answer, I'm talking about four people, as my mother and father are on their way back from Skopelos."

"Sure, it has ten berths and Jean is also on his way, but I am sure we can sort something out. Just wait for me at the harbour. I think I am almost done here."

*

With the islanders having had time to digest the scale of the evil thrust upon them, and then a leak from some insider source, of what could have happened to the children, the real grieving process should have begun to assuage the crippling shock. Only in part did that materialise, because there was another element in the mix. Unlike natural disasters, where only the swiftness and effectiveness of the response came under scrutiny, this was man-made.

The usual condemnation, palliative pledges that lessons had been learned, and assurances given that such hate-driven mass executions would be punished, fell seriously short of the mark this time. The jargon-enriched woolly promises left the usual stench of inertia. The rise in anger was rife, but as yet, not channelled efficiently. However, as it grew, a wind of momentum sprung into being.

Rolf had carefully observed the statements of world organisations, all of which backed away from admission of their abject failure to act. They seemed to see their role as one of terrifying the terrorists by rearranging a few words from previous messages of condemnation, nothing more, job done. Rolf made an unexpected volte-face. He had witnessed the spume of anger on social media, immediately following the disaster, but he was shocked by how quickly it had fallen back into the sea of apathy. He wondered how people could be so transient in their protest. Opinion but no action. This stimulated his intent to begin courting the media, using their power to promote the 'views of a hero'. He spoke in plain words, pointing the finger at those who knew that things like this were going to happen, but conveniently hid behind the difficulty of predicting where and when. He then attacked that stance as being unwilling to adapt to a known enemy. He, as a citizen of the European Union blamed its leaders for their inflexibility; in effect, turning a blind eye to the migrant crisis, clinging to 'perceived enlightenment' such as open borders as some kind of _solution_. He cared about the underprivileged, the oppressed, and genuine refugees prepared to die to escape from tyranny and death. He just didn't see that doing nothing about such corrupt regimes could be part of any solution. He centred his reasoning for the Skiathos horror on a calamitous myopic belief by EU leaders that they were not to blame, for literally providing terror groups with a perfect machine for setting up cells within their own borders. A cancer, made in Brussels, and allowed to grow undetected, while killing its 'enlightened' host. He had acted the night of the massacre, they had to act now.

Attempts were made to silence him, but the media fed on his derision of political correctness, and he continually plied them with what they craved, controversy and sensationalism. From a tiny island in the Mediterranean, ripples ran wide and fast, and more **action** was demanded all over the continent. One of the most recurring questions was that of tackling the organisation which had claimed responsibility for the bomb – Islamic State. Were they so clever that the rest of the world could only dance to their tune? Was the rest of the civilised world simply turning the other cheek because previous examples of intervention had gone wrong? Meddling in religious squabbles by putting boots on the ground, causing more problems than they solved? Was pretending that there wasn't any other option, in reality, destined to increase the virulence of the cancer?

People acknowledged that national security agencies had to operate in ways which meant keeping certain information within their ranks, but that alone didn't explain the true gravity of the situation, or give comfort that it was getting better. The stark reality was a perception that it was in fact deteriorating.

Rolf was being asked to visit other islands which were already overrun with migrants and their hidden cells. He declined, having fuelled the geo-political storm, he handed the baton back to those who'd failed to fulfil the promises they'd been elected for.

This mischief, if it had achieved nothing else, had provided quite an entertaining few days for those co-habiting on the cruiser. However, it was almost time to consider farewells.

*

Valerie and Klaus had managed to avail of alternative accommodation in Skiathos town, courtesy of Nikos' efforts to reunite them, in a sense!

After considering all aspects of their relationship, they settled on buying a property on the island. Valerie would stay all year round to ease her arthritic condition, and Klaus would sell the house in Koblenz and buy a small apartment there. He'd be able to attend to all matters financial in Germany and join Valerie for two weeks out of every month. A fair compromise.

She had no intention of burning any bridges, telling Nikos that it was the best she could offer. In fact, after living so long on his own, it seemed like a good way to go for him, nothing set in concrete, no messy complications.

Valerie had exactly what she wanted, two men showering her with attention, different types of attention, what more could a woman want?

"Are you sure you will be ok when I cannot be here, Val? How will you fill your time?"

"I like time on my own. I might even write my autobiography – 'Almost an Olympic Champion', something like that. Anyway, Nikos is still my friend, and I am sure he can introduce me to others who will become friends as well. It will really be ok, Klaus. This disaster has taught me a lot of things. I realise that I have been holding you back, and even though we are married, we have to do our own thing once in a while. You get a lot of pleasure from wheeling and dealing, and that is no different to me writing a book about my life."

"Fair enough, darling. Promise me that Nikos will continue to take care of you. I owe him a lot. Pity about the partnership, but I think he would be better off without me interfering."

"I promise, Klaus. Call me as soon as you get back to Koblenz. I will definitely ask Nikos to take care of me when you are not here."

*

Aron had revised his opinion of Rolf. Not just a playboy who had casually enjoyed his wife's body, but someone with the guts to put his life at risk for the safety others. Still, he was jealous of the man. He didn't let this surface between the two of them, quite the opposite. He studied the man's charisma, his ease with other people, and the thread of moral fibre running through almost everything he did and said. At times he thought Rolf was actually too good to be true, but then he always managed to redeem his reputation. His relationship with Jean was about the only exception, it had previously fluctuated from aggressive to sarcastic. Now he sensed a change.

Stefano loved messing about on the boat, willing to learn all he could from Jean in the short time they had left. He was a model pupil, and was often allowed to bring the craft back to the mooring through the harbour traffic.

This left a lot of time for Bianca to pester Raisa about the future.

"Same answer, Mum. I'm going to do less of what I did before this life-changing experience, and more stuff that makes a difference. But I don't want to just jump at the first challenge that comes along, and I need time to think. We should all really appreciate how lucky we were to be out of the hotel when all those other poor souls perished. It's the second time this has happened to me, and you and Dad came to my rescue back then. Now I have to make it through myself. Don't worry so much, I guarantee you won't be the first to hear when I do find my true passion!"

Bianca shed a tear and pulled her close.

Aron managed to get Raisa away from the boat for a coffee and psychological pick-me-up. He couldn't rest until he had an answer.

"Was he good, you know, in the sack?"

"I can't tell you, Aron."

"Oh. So he was then. Shit, did he make you... thingy? More than once?"

"Now listen, I'm not going to be questioned like this anymore. I knew it would be like this. I'll tell you the absolute truth, but only if you accept it and move on. He was gentle, passionate, obviously experienced, and did things I'd never known about. It was a hell of an experience for me. Yes, he made me climax several times. I couldn't believe how utterly exhausted I was, emotionally. So, I don't understand your problem. I did what you wanted, I feel better for it and you've got something to live up to now. And remember what else I said. Rolf will always be special to me as a dear friend, and I'll see him whenever I want, whether you approve or not. You can't complain, Aron. I'll be having better sex with you, and I was just telling Mum, I'm going to do something more important with my life, but I don't know what. We've had a close call, all of us, even you getting bitten on your Willy. Surely you want to help me realise such a life after all that's happened?"

He nodded sheepishly before he spoke.

"I do, I must admit I feel as if my nose has been pushed out, but I'll be ok. I'm going to be apprehensive about making love to you now, but you're right, there are much more important things to come out of the last couple of weeks."

"That's more like it. Now that you totally accept the situation, I'm prepared to tell you one more thing. I slept on Rolf's boat. I never said I had sex with him, you jumped to that conclusion only because I did ask him to fulfil your stupid plan B. I let you think that I did it, but he actually turned me down. Telling you that he was the best lover in the world was my real test for you, to see how you would react. Now, let's forget about all of that crap and get ready to go."

"So, you're now telling me that the truth two minutes ago was actually a lie?"

"Yes."

"And that's the truth?"

"Absolutely."

"Promise?"

"I solemnly promise."

She'd challenged herself many times in preparation for this interrogation. Was it better to tell the truth if it only caused hurt, or was it preferable to tell a white lie which hurt nobody? She'd become reconciled to the latter.

# Chapter 36

Crossing of Paths

Raisa hugged Rolf and Jean. She asked them what their plans were. Rolf said that they were going to lie low because of his exploits.

"Jean's visit to see his father has been a monumental experience. For the first time he felt love from Gerard. He had always made certain that Jean was free to do what he wanted, but at the same time, he kept him at arm's length from the business. Gerard is terminally ill, but has asked his son to take over the running of the company and even suggested a way for the technology to help Jean's hotel ventures. But it gets better, Jean is going to use his father's idea. However, instead of limiting the growth of the venture at the start, his dad now agrees that it can be developed within the existing business in all struggling counties in Europe, like Greece. Countries which are going to need cheap or even free energy, after the initial investment is paid off. It is a great feeling to have your father come round to your way of thinking for once. I never had that chance, so when Jean asked me to help him I could never say no. He has been a pain in the arse at times, well, many times, but he has never let me down when it really counts. So, we will sail back to Marseille, find a remote spot for an office and run things through the company's existing experts. It really is a new challenge but I am sure it cannot keep me interested for too long. Actually, I can see myself coming back here, if the new business is a success. I will probably buy a house here. I would feel close to Mehmet. How about you?"

They walked a few yards away from the others before Raisa spoke.

"You will stay in touch, won't you?

"Of course, did you need to ask?"

"Good, when you get the chance, will you come and see us? You and Jean, or just you?"

"I would like that, and when I get a house here you must visit me."

"Will you still want me, in that way, I mean?"

"That is even more stupid than your last two questions."

"I like hearing you say that. I might just come to see you on my own when you have your new place on the island."

The group gathered their luggage and were ready to take the waiting taxi when they saw Klaus, Valerie, and Nikos, who were also heading for the airport, the German was bound for Dusseldorf. They stopped, and in a very short discussion they found unanimity in pledging to meet here again in a year from now. They all felt they should mark the last two weeks by returning, with the tragedy as a focal point, but also to remind them of the remarkable happenchance of events which secured their absence from the Paradiso on its last night. It had also changed the lives of each one of them, in several different ways, none of which were for the worse.

One Year On

Jean's father had passed on and the business was flourishing under its new management, and in the new direction. Klaus had gained all the liquidity he had planned. He'd taken to making small but regular investments in Koblenz. He was back on Skiathos with Valerie, and in their new property, for the reunion. Aron was expected in the next day, as he was still tangled up in a court case, and had to change his flight. Stefano and Bianca had come early and were on Skopelos at their favourite little guest house. They planned to take the ferry on the next day. Jean had hired a 'captain' to take him wherever, whenever, and was just twenty-four hours away. Rolf had his hilltop villa and looked out over the space where the Paradiso once stood. Raisa had insisted on keeping her original ticket, and was in a taxi heading for Rolf's villa. There was no argument from Aron, he knew they were platonic soulmates, if there was such a thing. She fell into the arms of Rolf and they shared the memories of that fateful night last year. Her mother and father had both been invited to stay with Rolf when they arrived from Skopelos. Bianca was sold on the idea and accepted, but Stefano wanted to ask Rolf if Jean might offer him a berth on the boat. The next day would see the paths of all six cross once more, nuances and all, on the third wedding anniversary of Aron and Raisa.

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