After the Honeymoon (51 page)

Maybe in Greece, thought Rosie. But she didn’t like it. Jack was, as usual, out with his friends, and although she couldn’t help worrying about what he was doing, it did give her and Greco some time to themselves.

That was another thing. Ever since they’d got back, Jack had talked constantly about Winston. Anyone could see that Greco didn’t like it at all.

‘It is also natural for a boy to argue with his mother,’ continued Greco, his hands moving downwards. Rosie felt herself melt. Her mind went back to that horrible scene in the airport with Winston when he’d suggested America and boarding school. Such a contrast to the other end, when Greco had been there to meet her; picking her up and twirling her around. ‘I have missed you, my
omorfi
.’

Beautiful woman? Rosie had felt a warm glow running through her, but at the same time, she still couldn’t stop thinking about Winston.

‘Jack misses his father too, I think,’ added Greco now.

The melting feeling evaporated, replaced by defensiveness. ‘He’s bound to, isn’t he?’

Greco was sitting up. The moment had gone. ‘And you, Rosie. You miss Winston too?’

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes. ‘I’ve told you before. I have to stay in touch. He’s the father of my son.’

‘Pah!’ Greco got out of bed and put on his boxers. ‘Your Jack managed quite well without him all these years.’

‘Yes.’ Angrily, she flung on her jeans. ‘But now he knows he exists, it’s different.’

Greco caught her hand. ‘And is that why you are always talking and emailing?’

He glanced at her laptop as he spoke. There, for all to see, was the tab that showed she’d been Skyping Winston just before Greco had turned up unexpectedly an hour earlier.

‘We have things to discuss,’ she said lamely. ‘You just have to trust me.’

Greco shook his head. ‘I would like to, Rosie. But when I was in England, I saw a different woman. And I do not know which one you are.’

This wasn’t fair. ‘I’m
me
,’ said Rosie desperately. ‘Or at least I’m trying to be.’

Greco gave her a disappointed look. ‘Goodbye, Rosie. I will see you around.’

The door slammed. Rosie sank down onto the edge of the bed with its crumpled sheets. What had she done? And, more importantly, what should she do next?

The phone call from school came a few days later. Jack had been missing lessons. ‘I’m not learning anything,’ her son retorted. ‘It’s not like Corrywood.’

Rosie tried to contain her exasperation. ‘It’s bound to be different. You’re just taking time to adapt back to normal life.’

Jack glared at her. ‘Dad said you’d say that. He also said that education is really cool in Britain.’

So that was Winston’s game! He was trying to take her son away, tempting him with stories of jolly boarding-school life back in the UK.

‘Of course I’m not,’ protested Winston when she tackled him furiously on Skype. ‘In fact, I told him that he ought to stick it out on the island until he was able to apply to university. I was going to talk to you about that. Have you thought about a British uni?’

‘If he’s going to keep skipping classes, he won’t be going anywhere,’ she pointed out.

Winston, who appeared to be in gym kit, judging from his bare arms – such muscles! – nodded. ‘Point taken. Would you like me to talk to him?’

Why not? It wasn’t as though she was getting through to their son any more. To her surprise, Rosie felt a certain comfort in knowing that she didn’t have to shoulder all this on her own.

‘I’ve got to go now to take a class. But I still need to talk to you about tying up the final loose ends for our project. You haven’t told anyone yet, have you?’

She shook her head, remembering how cross Greco had been when he’d seen her open laptop. ‘No.’

‘Thanks. Down, Barney. I said down!’

Despite her earlier anger, Rosie couldn’t help smiling as a large brown springer spaniel with adorable floppy ears clambered up onto Winston’s lap. He virtually filled the screen. ‘How’s he getting on?’

‘Great. He’s brilliant company too. Jack’s really excited about seeing him.’

That was another thing. She’d promised Jack, when he’d been so upset at leaving Winston, that he could visit at Easter. It had seemed the right thing to do, although the prospect of losing her son every holiday for the next few years gave her an empty feeling.

‘Why don’t you come too?’ suggested Winston suddenly.

His offer took her by surprise. ‘I’m not sure. But thanks anyway.’

‘Chat at the weekend then?’

‘Sure.’

As she signed off, there was the creak of a floorboard outside her room followed by light footsteps going downstairs into the kitchen. ‘Cara?’

The old woman must have got into her favourite chair by the stove rather quickly.

‘You were listening, weren’t you?’ said Rosie indignantly.

Cara shrugged. ‘It is all very well finding the boy’s father, but he is not right for you. I know it.’

‘Actually, it’s not what you think …’.

Cara waved her away. ‘Please. No excuses. I know you.’ Those dark beady eyes bored into her. ‘Tell me everything.’

So Rosie did. She told Cara about Winston’s suggestion that they move to California. About Jack going to boarding school. And she even confessed about the kiss.

Cara’s wrinkled face was inscrutable. ‘You love him?’

Rosie took a deep breath. ‘I find it hard to separate my feelings now from the ones I had when I was seventeen.’

The old lady’s beady eyes were still fixed on her. ‘If you really loved this Winston, you would give up the world for him.’ She reached out and took Rosie’s hands in her gnarled ones. ‘Tell me. If Greco asked you to sail across the world with him, would you go?’

‘Yes.’ The word shot out of her mouth. ‘Provided that Jack came too.’

There was a gleam of triumph in Cara’s eyes. ‘And
why
would you give everything up for Greco?’

‘Because the real me – the one that
isn’t
seventeen – can’t imagine life without him.’ Again, the words came out of her mouth without Rosie even needing to think about it. ‘He makes me laugh and he makes me feel good about myself. But now he’s still ignoring me and it’s horrible.’

Rosie looked down from the terrace at the sparkling sea below. ‘Besides, I know that he wouldn’t want to sail away. Not ever. He loves Siphalonia as much as I do.’

Cara nodded, clearly satisfied. ‘Then that is your answer, is it not? You love the place as well as the man. Two is better than one, I think. But perhaps you should ask your son what he thinks. He is home early again.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘On that computer again. It will fry his brain.’

Her old friend had a point: both about Greco and about her son.

‘Why bother knocking if you’re going to come in anyway, Mum?’ Jack demanded angrily, looking up from his desk.

Because she was his mother, that’s why.

‘Are you working?’ She shot a meaningful look at the screen.

‘No. I’m looking at porn.’

Very funny. ‘Can I see?’

Jack scowled. What, she wondered, had happened to that fresh-faced, smiley son from last summer? ‘It’s private.’

Just like her letters that Dad had hidden from her many years ago. ‘Fair enough. There’s just one thing I need to ask you, though.’

His face went all uncertain. ‘Is it about what Dad said to you at the airport? I heard him, Mum, so don’t deny it. He wanted you to go to America with him.’

Shocked, she went to put her arms around him. ‘I’m not leaving you, Jack. Or the villa.’

A wave of relief passed over him. ‘Really? I mean, I like Dad but I’m still getting to know him. These things take time.’

Wow. Her son really was growing up.

‘What about Greco?’

‘He’s cool.’ Jack grinned. ‘And he makes you happy, Mum. I like that.’ Then he turned round back to his laptop. ‘You can look if you want.’

Curiously, Rosie took in the first line of the email.

Hi, Grandad.

‘Dad suggested it,’ said Jack, shrugging as though it didn’t mean much to him. ‘He said I might find it easier at first than talking. So he’s set Grandad up with a computer and showed him how it worked. He’s quite good, actually, considering how ancient he is.’

Rosie wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be angry with Winston for interfering. ‘I asked Dad not to tell you,’ added Jack, ‘cos I didn’t want you to think I was being disloyal. Grandad threw you out, didn’t he, when you weren’t much older than me.’

‘He was also rude to you,’ pointed out Rosie.

‘I know, but Dad says that if you don’t learn to forgive, you only end up hurting yourself.’

Just what Cara was always saying. She went towards Jack for a big hug, and to her relief, he hugged her back. ‘I don’t think it’s disloyal to me,’ she said. ‘Your grandad’s getting on now. It’s right that you make up.’

Jack’s shoulders literally sank with relief. ‘We make jokes about Charlie.’

‘Charlie?’

‘That bag thing that hangs at his side to collect his pee.’ He grinned. ‘Grandad’s really funny about that. I give him girlfriend advice, too.’

‘Grandad needs girlfriend advice?’

‘Sure. Grandad’s dating someone.’ Jack roared with laughter. ‘Can you believe it? At his age?’

Incredibly, it turned out to be the blonde bride’s mother, Shirley. He’d called her up after meeting at Gemma’s over Christmas lunch, Dad admitted when she tackled him on the subject during one of their now twice-weekly Skype calls. ‘She says what she thinks and I admire that,’ he told her. ‘Charlie doesn’t seem to put her off either. I get up to her place once a week on the train and she comes down to me at the weekends, providing she’s not in the hospital.’

Alarm bells began to ring. ‘Is she ill?’

‘It’s her grandson. Born prematurely, he was. Touch and go at the moment.’

Poor Emma. Rosie hadn’t known about that. ‘Isn’t all this travelling too much for you?’

There was a throaty chuckle. ‘Shirley’s given me a new lease of life. So when am I going to see
you
next? And the lad?’

‘He’s coming over at Easter to stay with Winston,’ she said carefully. ‘But I’m not sure if I can make it. Our season will be starting then.’

There was a short silence at the other end of the phone. ‘It would be nice if you could come.’ His voice sounded gruff. ‘But only if it doesn’t put you out too much.’

How things had changed! This time last year, she would never have imagined she would be talking to her father. But age, as Cara was always saying, made you put your priorities in order. Perhaps it was time that she did the same.

Tomorrow might be a good time to start.

‘I need to talk to you,’ she called out.

Greco was dragging his boat in from his early-morning fishing trip. The sun was glinting on the water and he had that faraway look on his face. The sea, he often said, transported not just your body but also your mind.

Kicking off her shoes, she waded out to meet him. It was low tide and the waves were shallow.

‘What is it?’

Greco’s eyes were cool; since that last argument, he’d been ignoring her. Go and find him, Cara had said. Tell him how you really feel.

‘It’s about Winston,’ she said, climbing into the boat and taking a seat next to one of the nets.

Greco turned his back. ‘I thought it might be.’

She stood up again, putting her hands on his broad waist, feeling the heat course through her body. ‘It’s not what you think. Winston and I have been talking a lot on Skype because he has a business plan to save the villa. It’s not been doing well, but Cara doesn’t know because I don’t want to worry her. Winston suggested expanding it as a creative arts summer centre. He’ll run exercise classes and we’ll also have another artist. We’re going to start a cookery school as well, and we’d like you to have a studio, to sell your figures.’

Greco swung round and she tried not to look at the mass of curly brown hairs on his chest, or else she would get distracted. ‘And who is going to provide the money for this?’

‘Winston.’

‘Hah! He is clever, yes. He knows it will put you in his debt.’

‘No. It’s a gift, he says, to make up for all the years he didn’t support Jack.’

Greco shook his head. ‘That’s what he says.’ Then his eyes grew fierce. ‘Don’t you understand, Rosie? It is
you
he wants. This arts centre is just an excuse for him to see you.’

It was no good. She had to come clean. ‘You may be right. But I know now that it’s not what
I
want.’

She leaned her head against Greco’s damp chest. ‘It’s you. Only you. Yes, I was in love with Winston once, but that was a different me. A younger one. Winston and I will always have something between us because of Jack. But it’s not what you and I have.’

Slowly, a pair of thick arms wrapped themselves around her. ‘Is that true?’

‘Yes.’

His eyes bored into hers. Unable to breathe, she held his gaze. They locked together firmly, as close as any pair of bodies.

‘I love you, Rosie,’ he murmured.

And then, before she could say any more, Greco’s mouth came down on hers. A flash of Winston’s passionate kiss came to her. Only then did Rosie realise that at last she knew. Finally she understood, for certain, who it was that she really loved.

‘My husband put his back out on honeymoon lifting my suitcase. He had to have an op when we returned.’

Kate, never knowingly underpacked

WINSTON

‘Sit. Sit, stay. Good boy!’

It was amazing how easily Barney had taken to his new home, thought Winston, as he raised his arm to throw the ball across the park. ‘Fetch!’

Off he went, haring towards the little wood at the side, ears flapping in the wind, before returning once more to drop the ball at his feet. Winston could swear that the dog was grinning from ear to ear.

‘You’re the best thing to have come into my life for a long time,’ Winston whispered, kneeling down next to him. ‘Know that?’

Ever since he’d replied to the
Desperately Seeking a Home
email, Winston’s life had taken an upturn. It was amazing what a dog did for you! It wasn’t just that you had to go outside, whatever your commitments or indeed the weather (spaniels needed plenty of exercise!). There were also the other dog walkers you met, who’d instantly befriend you.