The Innocent's Shameful Secret

Back in the honeyed trap that she’d thought was kindness. Caught by a man who was neither innocent nor inexperienced.

And now she had to go back to where it all happened. To Rhymnos—the place where she’d ruined her life and broken her heart.

At the same time, it was her chance to prove to herself that she had survived. Even mended.

As she left, she passed the young couple waiting for her table, and saw that the man was wearing a baby sling across his chest, cradling an infant obviously in its first weeks of life, its over-large cotton sun hat slipping down over a red, crumpled, sleeping face.

Saw, too, the way the young father looked down proudly at his child, then exchanged smiles with the pretty girl beside him in shared delight.

Selena felt a sudden twist of agony inside her, as if a hand had reached into her and wrenched at her heart, then she turned slowly and walked away, to tackle her final and most important problem.

The interview had proved just as difficult as she’d anticipated, she thought unhappily as she walked home.

‘You’re going on holiday?’ Mrs Talbot had radiated disapproval. ‘Do you think that’s appropriate?’

‘Unavoidable, I’m afraid,’ Selena had returned quietly. ‘And it’s hardly a holiday. My sister is ill.’

‘All the same, you’ll be missing scheduled visits, which is very disappointing—for everyone.’

She was almost tempted to cancel, but, in the end, she simply sent Kostas a text with the time of her flight.

She made herself a cheese salad before she emptied and cleaned the fridge. Then she stuffed the contents of her linen basket into a large carrier bag, and set off to the nearby launderette.

She’d taken a book to read, but she found it difficult to lose herself in the story when other thoughts, other memories persisted in intervening. In pushing aside all other considerations.

Forcing her to go back to that first day on Rhymnos and that fateful encounter at the Hotel Olympia.

Left alone in the bar, she’d taken one more sip of brandy, then pushed the glass away. She’d already made one idiotic mistake, she reminded herself, and there was no need to muddle her thinking any further.

Because she had to decide very quickly whether to remain here and accept the help Alexis Constantinou had offered, or grab her bag and run.

In principle, her mission had seemed simple enough. Come to the hotel, confront this Kostas, who might be having second thoughts himself by now, and convince Millie that a holiday romance was not a commitment for life, and it was time to go home.

It had never occurred to her, or presumably Aunt Nora, that the pair might disappear.

And where would she go, anyway? If the Olympia was full, it might not be easy to find a respectable alternative—although Alexis Constantinou’s offer of his private flat hardly qualified as that, either, in spite of his assurances.

And relying solely on a Greek phrasebook wasn’t going to be much help in tracking down the runaways.

I should have done more homework in advance, she thought bitterly. If I’d been allowed to, of course.

However, she was here now, and her main concern was finding Millie, for which, galling as it might be, she probably needed the help of Alexis Constantinou.

It doesn’t matter, she told herself, gritting her teeth. After all, the sooner you trace Millie, the quicker you can leave.

Suddenly restless, she rose and wandered over to the glass doors, which ran the length of one side of the bar, and walked out on to the balcony beyond with its flight of marble steps leading down to another area of garden, bright with flowers and shrubs and surrounded by hibiscus hedges. And beyond that, hazy with heat, the infinite blue of the Aegean.

Apart from a faint sound of splashing from the pool area, it was very quiet.

If I was here for a different reason, just one guest among many, I’d probably not want to leave, either, she realised with a swift pang.

She remained where she was, letting the peace soak into her, until a sound from the bar behind her made her turn hurriedly in time to see a tall, thin man with a heavy black moustache place a tray with a pot of coffee and a plate of pastries on her table.

‘For you, thespinis,’ he announced. ‘Kyrios Alexis, he say it is long before dinner.’

‘Oh,’ Selena said disconcerted. ‘Thank you.’ Then remembering one of the words she’d learned on the plane, she added, ‘Efharisto.’

He inclined his head. ‘Parakalo,’ he returned politely. ‘I am Stelios and I manage the hotel for Kyrios Alexis. Anything you wish for, please ask me.’

Presumably that did not include a missing sister, Selena thought as he vanished.

The coffee was a strong filter brew, and the food turned out to be delicious little cheese tarts, still warm from the oven. Selena ate every scrap.

She had just drained her final cup when she was joined by a middle-aged woman wearing a neat black dress and an air of unmistakable authority.

She pointed to herself. ‘Androula, thespinis. Housekeeper. Your room waits for you.’

She picked up the satchel and waited for Selena to accompany her.

A lift at the side of the foyer whisked them to the third floor. Androula led the way along the corridor to a pair of double doors at the end, which she unlocked, then stood aside allowing Selena to precede her into a spacious sitting room, with comfortable sofas and chairs upholstered in deep blue linen grouped round a massive square coffee table, its surface tiled in cream and gold.

As she looked round her, two girls emerged from another room, one carrying an expensive leather suitcase, the other a linen laundry bag.

As they passed Selena, they smiled shyly, but their eyes were alive with curiosity.

They must be wondering why they’ve been asked to clear the decks, she thought drily. However, it seemed that their boss was a man of his word after all and she only wished she could feel more at ease with the situation.

The bedroom was uncompromisingly masculine, almost disturbingly so, with shutters at the windows instead of drapes, dark fitted furniture, and what seemed to Selena to be an ultra-wide bed, made up with immaculate white linen, and a brown and gold coverlet in a Greek key pattern folded at its foot.

A door in the corner led into a bathroom almost as big as the bedroom, with a large walk-in shower as well as a tub, and twin basins in the long mirrored vanity unit, indicating, perhaps, that the owner did not always lack for company.

As if, she reminded herself swiftly, it was any business of hers.

Nevertheless it seemed she would be maintained pretty much in the lap of luxury during her brief stay, although she would have to make it clear to Mr Constantinou at their next encounter that she’d come prepared to pay for her board and lodging.

At least Aunt Nora has allowed for that, she thought. So I won’t be obliged to be in his debt more than I can help.

She turned to Androula. ‘Thank you.’ She made an awkward gesture. ‘It’s lovely.’

The housekeeper inclined her head politely. ‘You rest now,’ she said. ‘I will send someone to bring you to dinner at eight o clock.’

And on that, she departed, closing the outer door behind her. And, Selena realised in horror, locking it, too.

She was just about to rush over and beat on the panels, shouting ‘Come back,’ when she saw, just in time, another key lying in the centre of the coffee table, and realised her host was probably not the floor’s sole occupant. And allowed herself a faint groan of relief that she hadn’t made an utter fool of herself twice in one hour.

She’s right, she thought. Maybe I do need to rest. Also—get a grip.

She retrieved her forlorn cotton robe from her bag and went to the bathroom, where she took a long, satisfying soak in the tub, then stretched out in the middle of that vast bed and gratefully closed her eyes. She was asleep within minutes.