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The rush of words told their own story, Anna realised. The floodgates of grief had been opened and all Lara’s pent up anguish had come rushing through. She was no longer the aloof, hard-headed business executive, but a woman given over to sorrow and some regret.

‘If only we had come here sooner,’ she said, and then with a firmer resolution, ‘I vowed I would never use these words because “if only” is such a futile way of looking back—if only we hadn’t worked so hard to build up an empire; if only we had taken more time for ourselves; if only I had had Martha when I was young! They’re all the chances you take. You have your own priorities in life and it’s no use bemoaning the fact if things go wrong. We had a good life. Don’t think I’m complaining, because I’m not. I had all I wanted in the beginning, and we had Martha, but sometimes—just sometimes—I wish ...’

‘What will you do now?’ Anna asked after a moment.

‘I’m not sure. I haven’t been able to think straight these past few days since it happened. I need time, but I think I will probably go to Switzerland in the end. You see, Martha’s future was so important to us. We had it all planned. She would go to school there and learn about independence. I don’t think that has changed.’

‘Andreas is worried about you,’ Anna said.

‘I know. He has been a dear friend and we will miss him tremendously.’

‘But—you will see him in Switzerland.’

‘On and off. We have been friends for over four years, Anna, more like brother and sister if not quite mother and son!’ A faint smile touched Lara’s pale lips. ‘Andreas will go a long way in his career. He has always been ambitious and he will succeed.’

‘Not without you, surely.’

‘Oh, we won’t part company, if that’s what you mean.’ Lara’s eyes were suddenly clear as she looked back at her. ‘I’ll always be available to give him advice, but I think he will go ahead on his own. Philip and I taught him all we knew because we believed in him in the first place, and we’ll still be partners in the hotel chain, of course. I must have someone I can rely on, you see, now that Philip isn’t here. I don’t think—anyone would object to that.’

‘No. How could they?’

Was it possible to feel completely numbed by the truth, Anna wondered; was it possible to readjust your thoughts to a future that was not so dark?

Over tea they spoke about Switzerland, where Martha would go to school. ‘It was what Philip wanted,’ Lara said. ‘Yes, I think I have finally made up my mind to live there in the future.’

‘Will you sell the villa at Pedhoulas?’ Anna asked.

‘Yes.’ Lara’s decision was immediate. ‘I have no more use for it and I couldn’t live there alone. If I want to come to Cyprus I can have this suite, but I’m sure Switzerland will satisfy all my future needs. Perhaps one day you will come and visit me.’

‘I’d like to do that very much,’ Anna said without hesitation.

When she rose to go Lara walked to the lift with her. ‘Thank you for coming,’ she said. ‘I will always be grateful to you, Anna.’

The
next few weeks were among the busiest of the hotel year. Guests came and departed, there were festivities everywhere, and at the beginning of June an area of excavation was opened up along the boundary of Candy’s Place and the Villa Severus. A small colony of students came to work on the dig, revealing the foundations of a substantial residence and several smaller houses where some pottery was found but very little else.

By the middle of the month the temperature had soared into the nineties and even the wind blowing in across the bay was hot.

At the end of June Dorothy Rossides and John Malecos announced their intention to marry. It came as no surprise to Anna, who could not grudge her mother this second chance of happiness, although she knew that it would leave a gap in her own life which would be difficult to fill. Dorothy remained at the estate house till a week before the wedding, returning to the coast because she was determined to be married from her own home.

It was to be a quiet affair because neither of them were young romantics, but Anna knew that half of Limassol would want to be at the church of St Barnabas that Sunday afternoon to wish her mother well. John, too, had many friends of long standing, and Lara and Martha would also be there. They still occupied the private suite at the Crescent Beach, although Lara was already making her preparations to go to Switzerland in September.

Andreas, who had been as busy as Anna during these intervening weeks, was determined to arrange a reception for the newly-weds at the Crescent Beach.

‘I want to make it really special,’ he said to Anna. ‘Something they won’t forget.’

On the wedding morning he came to the villa to take them to church, looking heartbreakingly handsome in his formal suit, and Dorothy greeted him with a special smile. She looked radiant in her simple grey chiffon dress with a wide-brimmed hat to match and holding the small spray of apricot-coloured roses Anna had bought for her.

‘We’re ready to go,’ she said, taking his arm as they went out to his car. They were a family again.

Anna, in attendance, wore a deep apricot-coloured dress, and Lara appeared at the church in elegant black with Martha in white walking sedately by her side. There was no sign of Susan, but Helena and Kypros Masistas occupied a prominent pew near the front, smiling benevolently at everyone within radius. It was several minutes before Anna saw Nikos sitting several pews behind his parents. He was squiring Susan, in shocking pink, who had evidently made a conquest and wanted everyone to acknowledge the fact. Anna realised that she had neither seen nor heard from Nikos since that fatal afternoon at Khrysokhou Bay so that, too, was the ending of a chapter.

After the nuptials they gathered in the sun outside the church, effectively blocking the roadway for several minutes as they left the pavement to greet one another and renew old acquaintances, holding up the traffic on every side because they were too happy to care.

Nobody seemed in a hurry to rush away, but at last Andreas decided it was time to go. He touched Anna on the arm.

‘It’s getting late,’ he said, ‘and Mama is beginning to look tired.’ He had given her mother away at Dorothy’s request and Anna could only think of him as he had walked down the aisle with her mother on his arm coming straight towards her where she waited at the altar rail.

‘How are we going back?’ she asked.

Suddenly he laughed. ‘Martha has insisted on accompanying the bride!’ he said, ‘so it looks as if you’ll have to come with me. I’ll pick up Lara if I can find her,’ he added, ‘but there are plenty of cars to cope with everybody.’

They drove back to the Crescent Beach alone, a short interlude in a busy day which left Anna strangely moved.

‘Thank you for all you’ve done, Andreas,’ she said as they covered the short distance along the broad coastal road to the Crescent Beach. ‘I appreciate it very much.’

He smiled at her acknowledgement, turning the car into the entrance of the hotel where a white-suited porter sprang to open the door for her.

The reception had been planned in the large dining-room which looked like a bower of flowers. Andrea had spared no expense and she noticed that the pink roses on the tables were exactly the same apricot shade as the posy she had chosen for her mother. He had thought of every detail—or somebody had!

Dorothy was obviously touched by his gesture. ‘If I had really been his mother,’ she said wistfully, ‘he couldn’t have given me a happier send-off.’

It was all over far too soon. The cake was cut, the favours distributed and the toasts duly drunk, and after all that Dorothy did look tired.

‘We’re not going very far,’ John assured Anna, taking her aside to say goodbye. ‘Just to the mountains for a day or so till I have some adjustments done to the flat. Then, later on, we may go to Rome.’

When the last of their guests had gone Anna walked back to the Villa Severus alone, aware of the sudden emptiness in her heart as she walked through the deserted hall on to the loggia overlooking the bay. Most of the residents were at dinner or still in the bar behind the trellised screen, and the loggia itself was deserted.

She stood there for a moment, listening to the sea before she moved towards the terrace edge to look along the shore where the lights of Candy’s Place glittered against the velvet darkness of the sky.

‘Are you missing her already?’

She knew that Andreas was standing close behind her although she had not heard him cross the terrace to her side.

'I feel—alone,’ she admitted into the quiet night. ‘I have never felt like this before.’

He put his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. ‘You needn’t feel alone, Anna,’ he said. ‘Never again. Surely you know that I love you and I need you to love me in return. I’ve always felt that this would happen—that Mama would marry again some day and we would come together in the end. I’ve waited and hoped for it for a long time.’ He moved suddenly, taking her fully into his arms. ‘Say you love me! I want to hear you say that more than anything else in the world because I’ve loved you always—all through those precious years when we were growing up here together. That’s why I wanted the villa as it was—as the only real home I had ever known. I wanted us to be here together, always.’

She looked up at him in the gathering dusk. ‘I love you,’ she said without hesitation. ‘I have loved you from the beginning, for as long as I can remember, but when I thought you had—deserted us I had to hate you, but all the time I must have known it was love.’

He kissed her then with a passion she had not expected in him, holding her close against his heart.

‘I must have known you could never have married Nikos,’ he said. ‘You were always mine. Nikos—no one could ever have loved you like this.’

‘I thought I had lost you for ever,’ she murmured. ‘I thought Lara ’

He held her away from him, laughing gently. ‘Lara?’ he said. ‘How could you ever think we were in love? She was my friend and sponsor, just as Philip was. We were a unit—something more than friends.’ He gazed out across the bay. ‘That’s what made it so difficult to take when he died so suddenly,’ he admitted roughly. ‘Lara will come back here from time to time,’ he added quietly, ‘and we’ll be neighbours as well as partners because one day I hope you and I can turn this place back into a home again where we can bring up a family of our own.’ He looked up at the loggia where the shadows of the arches lay darkly on the marble paving stones, ‘That’s what I wanted when I first came back to the island,’ he confessed. ‘I never thought of our old home as an hotel—never wanted it to be one.’

‘It will all be the same again,’ Anna said, her eyes shining with happy tears. ‘Just as it always was, Andreas—just as you planned.’

They turned away from the sea back along the loggia into the friendly warmth of the hall where the lights burned steadily,
welcoming them into a future that was suddenly bright with love.