Greek Island Fling to Forever
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Annie Claydon
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CHAPTER ONE
THE DAY THAT had changed her life had been bright and clear, bathed in sunshine, and every detail was still sharp in Arianna’s dreams. She was six years old and had insisted on wearing her new white broderie anglaise dress for the journey to the Petrakis family’s holiday home on the tiny Greek island of Ilaria.
Her father had frowned when he heard the news that their own launch was out of action, and her mother had smiled as if it was of no consequence and said they’d take the ferry. It had been a new experience for Arianna and her older brother, Xander, waiting with the jostling crowd of other passengers to board, and then finding a place on deck where her mother could sit.
Even her father had loosened up a bit, opening the collar of his shirt and gesturing to their bodyguard to take a family photograph. Then he’d acceded to Xander’s excited demands and agreed to take him on a tour of the large, exciting craft. Xander had turned, waving to her as they’d walked away.
Her mother had been wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a red and white fitted sundress, so different from the faded colours she wore now. She’d perched on a slatted wooden bench and started to talk to the other mothers, telling Arianna that she could go and play if she wanted, as long as she stayed close.
The ferry had slowly manoeuvred out of the busy dock, speeding up a little as it entered the blue waters of the Mediterranean. Arianna had wished they could take this route every time, and when Ilaria had begun to loom on the horizon she’d wanted the island to stay away for a while longer, so that they could spend a little more time on the ferry.
Then... Then a juddering, crashing sound. The world tipped suddenly and she fell, grazing her knees on the wooden deck. She heard her mother screaming her name, but she was sliding, falling. Somehow, the water seemed to rear up and grab her, pulling her down.
She couldn’t breathe... And then something...someone...was there. Grabbing her flailing arms and holding her tight. Their heads broke the surface, and muffled sounds turned into a chaos of shouting and screaming. She could breathe enough to choke and cry, and when she opened her eyes, blinking against the sting of the salt, she saw an older boy with a shock of blond hair, wet and plastered around his face.
He said something to her, but she didn’t understand the words. She understood safety, though, and when he wound her arms around his neck she hung on tight. They bobbed together in the water, and then the boy started to swim, labouring hard while Arianna clung onto his back.
She didn’t dare look behind her. Maybe if she had, she would have caught one last glimpse of Xander. But ahead there were small boats, leaving the tiny port of Ilaria and making their way towards them.
Arianna was sobbing now, and the boy stopped swimming. More words that she didn’t understand, but which made her feel safe again. The water was pulling them back, towards the sinking ferry, and he began to strike out again, towards the rescue boats. She closed her eyes, reciting the prayer that her mother always said with her before she lay down to sleep.
Then she felt strong hands around her and she was lifted out of the water. One of the boats had reached them, and the boy had pushed her up into the arms of its occupants. A man held her tight as she reached back for the boy, but a wave carried him away. She started to scream and cry as his blond head disappeared amongst the waves and the scattered mass of people in the sea.
And then... The memories lost their clarity. She remembered her mother crying and her father hugging her until she could hardly breathe, when they found her, wrapped in a blanket and sitting amongst a group of survivors in the taverna, which had opened its doors to provide shelter and warm drinks. And she remembered her father, kissing her mother and running back down to the boats that were ferrying people back to the shore.
He’d been gone a long time, but her mother had refused to move, holding Arianna tight as they both shivered in the warm breeze. When he finally had returned, he was alone. Her mother had taken one look at his face and screamed in anguish...
Arianna sat bolt upright in her bed, feeling the cold sweat beading her forehead. Returning to Ilaria, to establish a medical practice here, had left little time for anything other than work. Now that the pressure was off during the day her dreams at night had become more frequent and much more vivid. Breathing deeply to steady her racing heart, Arianna told herself it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing and that perhaps she needed to get the trauma of that day, twenty-five years ago, out of her system. And it was one more precious chance to see Xander again, along with the blond-haired boy who had carried her to safety and then disappeared amongst the waves.
The boy hadn’t drowned. Later, when she was older, she’d traced everyone who had died that day and there was no one matching his description on the list. He’d just disappeared in the melee of survivors. He was out there somewhere, grown up now, and Arianna wondered if he ever thought of her.
It was a bright, warm day. Ben Marsh stepped off the ferry, pulling the map of Ilaria’s harbour town from his pocket and looking around to get his bearings.
He’d wondered if he might remember this place when he saw it; he’d thought about it often enough over the years. But he didn’t. There was nothing familiar about the ferry terminus, but it was a new building, obviously constructed since he’d last been here, twenty-five years ago. Ben made a beeline for the tourist information booth and a smiling woman welcomed him to the island and marked the position of the health centre on his map for him.
He walked to the main harbour, stopping to scan the small boats moored there. None of them were familiar either, although in truth he’d been too intent on scanning the horizon to look for other survivors to remember much about the craft whose crew had finally pulled him out of the sea. And the people? The frightened little girl who had clung to his back as he’d swum away from the sinking ferry would be beyond recognition now. She could be any one of the young women who passed him in the street, and Ben told himself that searching their faces for any shred of recognition was a waste of time.
But he knew her name. Arianna Petrakis. It had been six months since he’d stumbled on an old newspaper account that had answered the questions he’d wondered about for so long, and since then the name had seemed to resound in his head.
Icy fingers skittered from his neck, down his spine, and he shivered in the sunshine. What if she didn’t want to see him? The answer to that was easy; he’d take the next ferry off the island and go. What if she did want to see him? How could he explain that the day the ferry had sunk had shaped his life? Could he even begin to say that now he had the strangest feeling that he needed Arianna to rescue him?
Ben shook off the questions, knowing he had no answer to them. Jumping into the water to save Arianna had been the first defining moment of change in his life. The second had been crushingly different. He’d made a solemn vow to love and cherish, and then not been there when his wife had needed him. Emma was gone now, and Ben couldn’t turn back the clock and save her.
But he hadn’t thought twice when he’d seen the little girl in the white dress sliding across the deck of the ferry and falling into the water. He’d jumped. And now he needed to do that again, to just follow his instincts and jump.
After a steep climb up the hill, away from the harbour, he found the health centre. He shouldn’t have worried whether he’d recognise it—the stone wall that bordered the road had a large notice in six different languages, and when he opened the gate he saw a modern building nestled behind a small garden that was a riot of colour and scent. Automatic doors swished open and he found himself in a large reception area, welcoming and cool after the sticky heat. A woman was watering a large plant that stood in one corner and turned to greet him.
Ben’s heart jumped. But no, it couldn’t be her. Dark curls could be dyed and straightened into the woman’s smart, honey-blonde style, but if he had to guess her age he would have settled at late thirties. Older than Arianna would be. And surely he would recognise Arianna if he came face to face with her?
‘Yassas...’
The woman’s smile indicated that she appreciated him making the effort to greet her in Greek, but it was unnecessary. ‘Hello. My name is Corinna. How may I help you?’
‘I’m looking for Dr Petrakis.’
‘You are sick?’ Corinna looked him up and down.
‘No... My name’s Ben Marsh. Dr Ben Marsh.’ Maybe the Dr part would convince her that he was here on business of some kind, and she wouldn’t enquire any further.
Corinna nodded, shrugging slightly. ‘Take a seat, please. Dr Petrakis will be back in five minutes.’
Ben sat down, looking around him. Light and spacey, cool white walls and earth tones for the furniture. Someone had thought through this area carefully, to provide a welcoming and relaxing area, but his heart was pumping hard. He took his phone from his pocket, opening up the app for the British papers and hoping that Corinna would take this as a signal not to engage him in any further conversation.
She finished watering the plants and then returned to her seat, concentrating her attention on the computer screen in front of her. The doors swished open but it was only a courier, bringing a parcel. After fifteen minutes, Corinna spoke again.
‘I’m sure she will be here soon. Would you like me to call her?’
‘No, please don’t. I’m happy to wait until she returns.’
‘You would like a drink...?’
The doors swished open again and Ben’s heart jumped. When his head snapped instinctively towards the entrance, he saw a young woman and a dark-haired man supporting a blonde-haired girl between them. The man was clearly a passer-by who had stopped to help, calling Corinna by name and speaking in Greek to her, then turning to leave as she began to rap out orders.
‘She is having an asthma attack. Sit her down. Dr Marsh, as you are here you must help her. I will call Dr Petrakis...’ A flip of her finger towards Ben, and then Corinna picked up the phone.
He wasn’t licensed to practise in Greece, but that was a moot point at the moment. The blonde-haired girl was clearly in distress and this was an emergency. Ben hurried over to the girls, guiding them over to the seats.
‘Does she have an inhaler?’
‘Yes, but she forgot it. It’s back at our hotel...’ The girl’s companion’s eyes were wide with panic.
‘Okay. That’s okay.’ It wasn’t, but what he needed to do now was to calm both girls. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Helen...’
Ben turned to Helen, taking her gently by the shoulders. ‘Helen, I’m Ben and I’m a doctor. Look at me...’
Helen’s frightened gaze met his. Ben smiled reassuringly.
‘I want you to try to calm down. Try to breathe more slowly for me, yes?’
Helen nodded. The panic and the rush to the health centre hadn’t done her a great deal of good, and now that she was sitting down she seemed a little better. Helen turned as her friend started to cry and Ben put one finger on the side of her face, guiding her gaze back onto him.
‘Don’t worry about anyone else. Just look at me. Try to breathe with me.’
Corinna had finished her call. ‘Dr Petrakis will be here in five minutes. She will bring the inhaler from the chemist.’
Ben nodded. ‘Thanks. Perhaps you could look after this young lady?’ He indicated Helen’s friend and Corinna jumped to her feet, guiding the girl away from them and to a spare seat behind her desk.
‘What colour is your inhaler, Helen?’ Ben smiled again at her. ‘Blue?’
A nod.
‘Good. Albuterol?’ Ben hadn’t yet come across anyone with asthma who didn’t know exactly what drug they needed, and he hoped this wouldn’t be a first.
Another nod. Helen was calming now and her breathing was slower, but she was still having to work too hard to get the oxygen her body needed.
‘Okay, that’s great.’ Ben turned to Corinna, who already had her phone in her hand, the other arm tightly around the other girl’s shoulders. ‘Will you tell Dr Petrakis...?’
‘Albuterol. I heard...’ Corinna shot him a stern look, clearly outraged at any implication that she didn’t have everything under control, and Ben turned back to Helen again.
‘You’re doing really well, Helen.’ Hopefully the promised five minutes before Arianna Petrakis got here from the pharmacy wouldn’t be as long as the five minutes he’d been asked to wait.
‘Don’t...let me...’ Helen was struggling to speak.
Die. Don’t let her die. The last few years had shown Ben that he was powerless in the face of life and death, but Helen didn’t need to know that.
‘I’m not going to let you do anything. Apart from breathe. That’s okay with you?’
This time Helen returned his smile, nodding.
‘Will you bring her through to surgery?’ Corinna had finished relaying the message and put her phone back down on her desk.
‘Yes, that would be a good idea.’ Anything to keep Helen quiet and away from any hubbub in the main reception area.
Corinna nodded, turning to Helen’s friend and telling her firmly not to move. Then she beckoned to Ben.
Helen wasn’t ready to walk yet. Ben grinned at her. ‘Let’s do this the easy way, shall we? Hold onto me.’
He bent, picking Helen up. He could feel her breathing against his chest, as she lay in his arms, and he followed Corinna to a modern, well equipped surgery, putting Helen down on the examination couch and operating the backrest so that she was sitting up.
‘Thanks...’ Helen seemed to be breathing a little more easily now.
‘That’s okay. I get extra points on the emergency doctor scale for carrying someone, you know. I’m just glad you aren’t too heavy.’
Helen smiled, even though the joke wasn’t really so much of a joke. Ben had just done his job, what he needed to do to keep Helen quiet and safe. But somehow, that lost feeling of being able to make a difference had filtered back into the equation. Maybe because of Helen, but more likely because Arianna Petrakis was just five minutes away now, and she’d known him when he could make a difference.
Ben saw a light blanket draped across the bottom of the couch and pulled it up over Helen’s legs. She was beginning to recover now, although the smallest thing could leave her struggling for breath again. The door to the surgery opened quietly and Ben turned.
Arianna. He’d know her anywhere. Dark curls, cut to frame her face. Liquid brown eyes, and flawless olive skin. There was something about the way she carried herself that reminded him of the bravery of the little girl who had clung so tightly to him, and...there was no getting away from it...she was beautiful.
‘Hi, I’m Dr Petrakis.’ Her manner was perfect, assured and relaxed, even though the pink in her cheeks suggested that she might have been running to get here. ‘You’re Helen?’
Helen nodded, and Arianna put a large paper pharmacy bag onto her desk. ‘I’ve got a selection of inhalers, but Dr Marsh says that the blue one with Albuterol is the one you usually have.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’ Helen seemed much better now, and managed to get three words out without gasping for breath.
‘That’s good; I have the one you need.’ Arianna reached for the bag, taking a box out and reading the Greek lettering on the side, before opening it and taking out the inhaler.
Her English was flawless, and spoken with a slight London accent, the kind you didn’t get from just learning the language. The thought that maybe she’d lived in Ben’s home town and he’d never known how close she was took Ben’s breath away, and then Arianna turned her gaze onto him.
‘Thank you, Dr Marsh.’ He thought he saw some spark of recognition, but maybe it was just in his imagination. ‘I’ll examine Helen now. Corinna will make you some coffee, if you still want to wait?’
Yes, of course... He was a tourist who’d just helped out in an emergency, and it was time for him to leave.
‘Thanks. I’ll wait.’ He turned to Helen with a smile. ‘You’re looking much better now.’
Helen gave him a smile and a thumbs up, and Ben returned the gesture before walking back out into the reception area. He didn’t really want coffee, but Corinna insisted on making him some, putting a selection of biscuits on a plate next to his cup. He sipped his drink as he waited, before Arianna appeared again.
‘Claire, you can go and see Helen now.’ She spoke to Helen’s friend, who’d been sitting miserably in the corner, despite all of Corinna’s attempts to cheer her up. ‘She’s much better, but she needs to rest a little. Andreas, our paramedic, has just arrived and he’s sitting with her. Be calm and quiet, yes?’
Claire nodded. ‘I’m sorry...’
Arianna batted the apology away with a flick of her hand. ‘It’s frightening to see someone taken ill like that, isn’t it? Now that she’s here, we can look after her and she’ll be fine. What she needs right now is to see you smiling.’
Arianna was being kind. The hurried rush through the streets to the health centre couldn’t have done Helen any good; it would have been better to keep her sitting down and get help to come to her. Maybe she’d explain that at some point, but Ben had little doubt that her firm, gentle way would make it sound like a bit of advice for the future rather than a condemnation.
Claire wiped away her tears and tried out a smile, and Arianna gave her an approving nod. Corinna took Claire’s hand, leading her towards the surgery, and then Ben’s heart started to beat a little faster as Arianna turned to walk across the reception area towards him.
