That night at the villa, I was leaking confidence fast. I floated about like a dazed goldfish wondering if it would make more sense just to let them have their way. I was thunderstruck, a storm of confusion. I went from room to room barring the shutters and securing the doors, suspicious of Daphne's conceit. And Aunt Agnes, she was in danger but if I tried to warn her I'd just endanger her more. I didn't know what to do. The screaming and the ranting echoes were bursting my mind.
Daphne had been a daddy's girl. He was National Geographic's ace photographer and travelled the world taking pictures. She had been accepted for her Arts course and wanted to surprise him when he came home from Bulgaria where he'd been recording cave paintings. It seems there was an earthquake and his body was never recovered. A couple of days later at home, she took a handful of tablets in their caravan at the bottom of the garden and didn't come out for three days. Her mother was busy.
After that, she lost interest in her art and her tutors fired their criticisms but she never dropped out. She saw whatever work she did as being beyond criticism, ephemeral, and then destroyed more than she kept. To her, the art school system was a sham, 'Well I for one can't see the king's new clothes'. This was her drunken mantra. Her arrogance and aggression isolated her until she was left making speeches to hangers-on and scroungers.
We first met across the bar in the pub and she'd been dossing around, sleeping wherever she hadn't worn out her welcome. What was a girl to do? Well, first you find some idiot with his own flat and then you let one thing lead to another. She was a regular in the café restaurant where I worked, so I got her a waitressing job there. One night she came back to my flat for coffee and never went away.
When we first married, it was the best time of my life. I was happy to do anything for her and it showed. Envy spread rumours of affairs and of course, I ignored them. Even when I found her once in the arms of someone else, all she said was, 'Don't get so worked up. It's just a cuddle.' Then one night she never came home after work. I sat on the sofa confused and scared; frightened to face my suspicions; our cats, Pasha and Scally, sat either side of me, instinctive. When eventually she did show up and I asked where she had been, she simply said, 'You don't want to know,' and instantly I knew.
Time passed, arguments every night, she'd say anything to cut, and the deeper the better. For the rest of the time she spent in that town, my loving ex was seen with anyone and everyone and at any hour and always she made sure I found out.
'She's just being herself,' I'll never forget that remark. 'You can't blame Daphne. I mean, what else do you do after your finals?'
And so it was a perfect amber morning and I hadn't slept at all. I ached. I'd spent the night trying to work out how I'd got into this mess and how to escape. I decided maybe sell the place to Daphne after all and simply walk away, but that would mean total betrayal of everything my father had stood for. Yet what else could I do? I'd had enough. I looked down at the stripes in the sea and out as far as the horizon with its line of silver light. All was natural wonder. It would have been so easy to jump, or was that exactly what they wanted? I could drop into the void, a sheer drop without any fear of flying. It was just a matter of switching off and going with the flow, as it were.
That woman was round the twist. Driven by revenge and spite. She needed help, that was obvious, but so did I, being the top of her list of things to remove. Nothing would stop her. She meant business and when she returned, I'd be hunted and removed.
I sniffed the air. No one baking yet, still too early. The nineteen-seater passed overhead on its way to Athens with the mail. It would return later with the new arrivals. It gave me an idea. If I borrowed the van again I could be at the airport in plenty of time and it was downhill most of the way. That was the answer! I could leave immediately. I had to save myself. Auntie would be a bit miffed when she found I'd gone but I was sure she'd understand once I explained it all next time I saw her, hopefully at home in Cornwall. It sounded so safe and so what if the house wasn't sold? Let Daphne have it, along with the village and the treasures and Faria. I had a life and I wanted to live it without getting involved in something that had nothing to do with me. Yes, staying alive was the honourable thing to do. I grabbed my ticket and passport and emptied a drawer into my backpack.
The whole village was a miracle of quietness - not a sound. Even the flag had lost its will. Across the terminus I walked to the van on tiptoe, the crunch of gravel seeming so loud, and there I found the key in the ignition as usual. I pinned a note for Aristethes on the Fishermen's Notice Board knowing he'd find it there.
In no time at all, I was skirting pot-holes and diggers, tearing down the new road past sunlit villages towards the airport. I chuckled to myself. I'd actually made my escape. Daphne and her business associates were much too heavy for a lightweight like me. They let nothing bug them. Not even a mosquito. I'd soon be back where I belonged. I wasn't needed here. Let the authorities sort it out. And the closer I got to the airport, the more attractive the library seemed. Complicated or dangerous? Not at all. But Sophia and Dorini? Nothing was any good. I couldn't go on with all that warring. I thought I had the courage but in the cold light of day it was all too much and anyway, I was not the sort of person who has to travel all the time just to get away from myself. I wanted home.