‘I was very young,’ she said at last, and her voice sounded as if it came from a long way away. ‘I was in America and I was by myself. And I knew…I knew Nikos…your papa…and his wife were having a baby here. That baby is Christa. So I thought your papa needed to stay here to take care of Christa. I knew I could take care of you, and I did.’

And behind those words? Raw, unresolved pain. Bleak. Stark. Dreadful.

How to take that pain away?

Nikos knew that he couldn’t. Ten years of pain, and the only way he could alleviate it was a truth that wasn’t his to tell.

And he hadn’t caused that pain. It was Athena who’d left.

‘Why didn’t you come back here?’ Nicky asked her, obviously fighting to find some sense in all this.

‘I have a great job, Nicky,’ Athena said. ‘I needed to work to support you.’

‘But…’ Nicky paused and looked from Athena to Nikos and back again. His mother and his father, and a history he didn’t understand.

This was too heavy, Nikos thought. It was way, way too hard. Maybe they should have left this for the future, for some more appropriate time to tell him, but what was done was done. And somewhere in this mess they had to find joy.

He had a son. Yes, there was heartache and regret but he had a son, and his son needed to lose that look of confusion and…and yes, even the echo of his own sense of betrayal.

‘See that rock out there in the bay?’ he said, fighting for the right note. ‘The big one with the flat top about two hundred yards from shore?’

‘Mmm,’ Nicky said, still dazed.

‘I taught your mother to dive off that rock. Or I tried to. She kept doing bellywhackers.’

‘I did not,’ Athena retorted, struggling not to falter, and he knew that where he went she’d follow. How could she help it now?

‘You did, too,’ he said, and managed a strained sort of grin. ‘You get your mama to take you out and show you her diving skills,’ he told Nicky. ‘She’ll do bellywhackers every single time.’

‘Christa, can you swim?’ Athena asked, still sounding desperate, and Nikos thought maybe he’d got it right. He’d deflected the father bit, giving Nicky time to come to terms with it as he wanted.

He knew there was a lot more discussion to come. Some of that would have to be personal, between Athena and Nicky.

Some of that needed to be between himself and Athena.

‘I like…swimming,’ Christa said. She’d pushed her shoes off-she hated shoes-and her feet were resting on Oscar. ‘I like…dog.’

‘I think Oscar likes you,’ Athena said.

‘Does this mean Christa is my sister?’ Nicky asked and Nikos’s thoughts went flying again. The issues were too big. Huge.

‘I guess she is,’ Athena said softly. ‘Your half-sister.’ Then she said gently, ‘Christa has something called Down’s syndrome. That means she was born with something a little different from most children. All the bits that start a baby growing…they’re called chromosomes. Christa got an extra one. It makes the tips of her ears a bit small. It makes her tongue a little bit big and her eyes really dark and pretty. And it affects her in other ways too, including her speech.’

‘But she likes Oscar.’

‘She does,’ Athena said gravely, smiling at Christa. ‘I think Christa is our friend already. I think having her as your sister might be really cool.’

So much for leading the conversation, Nikos thought. It was now about the three of them. He was right out of the equation.

Somewhere, once, he’d read some scathing comment on fatherhood. Mothers knew all about their children’s dramas, their love lives, the spots on the back of their necks. Fathers were vaguely aware there were short people in the house.

Not him, he thought. With Christa, he’d been so much more hands on. But he felt sidelined here.

‘I wanted a sister,’ Nicky was saying, cautious. ‘A little sister. But Christa’s nine.’

‘I’m nine,’ Christa said, nodding grave agreement.

‘But she’s much shorter than you,’ Thena said. ‘I think she always will be, so that means she’ll always be your little sister.’

‘So I get to look after her?’

‘If you want.’

‘Do I hafta share?’

‘I guess you and Christa can work those things out for yourselves,’ Athena said, and Christa looked at Nicky and beamed.

‘Nicky,’ she said.

‘Brother,’ Nicky said importantly and thumped his chest.

‘Brother,’ Christa repeated and thumped her chest.

They giggled.

Just like that, Nikos thought, stunned. It was over, just like that. Yeah, there’d be complications. Yeah, there’d be difficulties. But, for now…it was sorted.

‘Now,’ Athena said in a voice that boded ill.

‘Now?’

‘What about this reception?’


What were they thinking? Talking of social events when she’d casually given him his son? He felt as if all the wind had been sucked from his lungs and he wasn’t the least sure how to get it back.

Nicky and Christa were looking at each other, sizing each other up, still grinning. Occasionally giggling. Having a sister was obviously a big deal for Nicky. Bigger than having a father?

He’d missed out on nine years of having a son. He looked back to Athena and she was looking as dazed as he was.

‘I wanted to tell you,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t know how.’

‘Like…the phone?’ He couldn’t keep anger from his voice and he got anger in return.

‘You think? So I should have phoned you-and your wife-and thought about the consequences later?’

A host of angry rejoinders crowded his head. None of them could be said in front of the children.

Maybe none could be said at all.

‘The reception,’ she said again flatly, moving on.

‘Seven tonight.’ That, at least, was easy. ‘The Crown Prince and Princess of Sappheiros will be welcoming home the Crown Princess of Argyros. Officially handing over control.’

‘And then what?’ He saw panic flare. ‘Nikos, I can’t do this alone. I can’t do this at all. Run this country? I have no experience. I have nothing to qualify me for such a role. I’ve taken four weeks’ leave. That’s it.’

‘If that’s it, then you’re handing the Crown to Demos.’

‘This isn’t fair.’

‘Life’s not,’ he said shortly. He had evidence of this right in front of him. He’d had a son for nine years and he hadn’t known.

She stared at him, speechless. He stared out of the window. Tried not to think that yes, it was unfair. As kids they’d planned to do this side by side. They still could if she…if he…

It had to be thought of. The lawyers had demanded he think of it.

How could he think about it?

‘You will be there tonight,’ she said urgently, and a blunt voice inside him said no, let her sink. Not telling him he had a son…

But then he looked at her, he caught the terror, and he caught something else.

The Athena he’d once loved. She was still in there.

And this island…It was his home and he loved it. He had to support her, come what may.

And he had to convince her to stay.

Enough. One step at a time.

‘I’ll be there,’ he told her.

‘With me,’ she said urgently. ‘I won’t remember names. People will know me and I won’t remember them. I’ll say the wrong thing. Nikos, you have to help me.’

‘I’ll help you.’

He hadn’t said it right. He sounded petty, angry, resentful. And she got it. Terror turned to anger again, just like that.

‘Don’t you dare.’

‘Dare what?’

‘Dump this on me. You talked me into this. You made me come home. I’m your responsibility, Nikos. I came home because of you.’

‘You came home because of the island.’

‘I came home because we talked ourselves into loving this island together. If you’re even thinking you need me to stay, then you need to support me every step of the way.’

‘I’ll support you tonight,’ he said.

Beyond tonight was a place he was too fearful to think about.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE castle was a time warp.

The limousine pulled up in the castle forecourt. Athena climbed out.

Argyros, circa eighteen hundred. It was almost enough to jerk her out of the emotional mess she’d just landed herself in.

It was almost enough to make her stop thinking about Nikos.

The palace was built of the stone used throughout these islands, whitewashed once but mostly faded to its original soft grey. It was two storeys high in the centre, with long single storey wings at either end. The garden was overgrown to the point of riot. Vast wisteria vines gnarled their way over the buildings like great knots on ancient gift wrapping. There were olive trees, bougainvillea, wild daisies and clumps of blue and yellow irises-a riot of colour. The palace looked half buried by garden-a fantastic wilderness.

And behind the castle was the backdrop of the sea. As a child she’d heard the palace had the best swimming beach on the island, but who knew?

She’d never been in these grounds. The castle had been protected by vast stone walls for as long as she could remember. Guard dogs were said to roam at night.

Giorgos had hardly ever come here but he’d deemed it his. What was his he held, fiercely.

‘So who does this belong to now?’ she whispered to Nikos as she stood in the forecourt, feeling stunned, feeling the warmth of the Mediterranean sun on her face, hearing the wash of the sea under the cliffs.

‘The Crown,’ Nikos said briefly. ‘That would be you. Unless you abdicate. Then it goes to Demos. He’s been staying here since Giorgos died-since he phoned you and you told him he could have it. I told him you were coming back and he had to vacate.’

She gulped. ‘I hadn’t thought…’ she whispered. ‘Demos must hate me.’

‘He hates me, too,’ Nikos said, but he touched her arm lightly, in a gesture of reassurance which was supposed to be steadying-and strangely was. ‘But we needn’t feel guilty. Somehow he wheedled his way into the King’s favour. Giorgos left him a personal fortune. Sadly for Demos, a fortune will never be enough.’