Finally Nikos found words that might do. For now. Filler words. ‘It’s good to meet you, Nicholas. Is Oscar your dog or your mother’s?’

‘Mine,’ Nicky said and she thought, great question. Generally shy, discussions of Oscar made Nicky blossom.

‘How old is he?’

‘We’re not sure. He was in our street one day when we came home. He was dirty and really, really hungry. We took him to the animal shelter ’cos Mama said someone might be looking for him, but no one wanted him so we got him back. I called him Oscar ’cos Mama told me she had a dog called Oscar when she was little. Before my Mama’s mama died.’

‘I remember Oscar,’ Nikos said softly, gravely. ‘He was great. If your Oscar’s like him he must be really special.’

‘He is.’

‘Does he eat everything like that?’ Oscar was still licking, stretching the experience for as long as he could. Nicky had chosen a rainbow ice cream for him and he’d wedged it between the planks on the bench. Oscar had a paw on either side of the cone so it couldn’t tip. His nose colour had changed now to green.

‘He enjoys his pleasures, does Oscar,’ Athena said, and Nikos finally looked at her. Really looked at her.

The look would stay with her all her life, she thought numbly. Disbelief. Awe. Anger. And raw, undisguised pain.

‘He is, isn’t he?’ he asked, and there was only one way to answer that.

‘He is.’

He closed his eyes.

Where to go from here?

‘You can’t do this, Thena,’ he said, and his voice was suddenly harsh. ‘No more. You walked away with this…’

‘I didn’t know.’ It was a cry of pain but she knew it was no excuse.

‘You walked away. And now…’ He paused, took a deep breath, then another. ‘Leave it,’ he said and she wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or to her. ‘I can’t take it in. Just come back to the island and we’ll sort it there. We need to get the succession in place. If you don’t come home the island will be ruined. How selfish can you be?’

‘Selfish?’ She would have gasped if she hadn’t felt so winded. ‘Me? Selfish.’ Then, before she could stop herself she produced the question that had slammed at her heart for almost ten years. ‘How old is Christa?’

‘Nine.’

‘And her birthday is when?’

‘June.’

‘So there you go,’ she snapped, the old, stupid grief welling up in her all over again. ‘Nicky’s nine and he was born in September. What does that tell you, Nikos?’

‘Nothing,’ he snapped. ‘Except that you should have told me.’

‘So maybe you should have asked. When I left…there was nothing.’

‘You told me not to follow.’

‘I didn’t expect you to believe me,’ she yelled-really yelled-and everyone looked at her. Even Oscar. Christa’s ice cream started to drip on the side she wasn’t licking. Nikos automatically stooped and turned it around for her, wiping her chin before it dripped on her dress.

It was a tiny gesture but, for some stupid reason, the sight of it cut through her anger and made her want to weep again.

‘It’s time we went home,’ she whispered, and Nicky looked up at her in surprise.

‘We were going to walk right round.’

‘I’m tired.’

‘I’m not,’ he said, clearly astonished.

‘Tell you what,’ Nikos said. ‘Why don’t we compromise. Nicky, I’m from the island where your mother was born. I know your mama just shouted at me, but maybe that’s because…because we both got a shock. Your mother and I have known each other since we were children, but this is the first time I’ve been to New York.’

‘Yes…’ Nicky said, not sure where this conversation was going.

‘What if Christa stays here with your mama? Christa gets tired easily-she has a problem with her heart that makes her tired. But she’ll be happy here with a dog and an ice cream. So your mama and Christa can rest here. Christa can finish her ice cream and you can show me all the way round.’

Nicky looked doubtfully at his mother. She was too numb to respond.

‘Thene,’ Nikos said urgently, and she tried to pull herself together. What was he asking? Fine, she decided. Anything. The gods would have to take control from now on. She couldn’t.

‘Can I take Oscar?’ Nicky asked.

‘Yes,’ Nikos said.

‘You really knew my mother when she was little?’ her son asked.

‘When she was Princess Athena,’ Nikos told him. ‘Your mother needs to be Princess Athena again. Come with me and I’ll tell you why. Will Oscar come with us?’

Nicky was looking at her. Waiting for her approval.

What did it matter? She was no longer in control here. She knew nothing.

‘Fine,’ she said weakly. ‘Take…take your time. Christa and I will look at the zoo.’

She sat on the bench and watched Christa finish her ice cream, and the desire to weep grew almost overwhelming.

What was it with men? How could she have thrown those two birth dates together and have Nikos react without the slightest regret? Or shame. Or guilt.

He’d called her selfish for leaving the island. She’d told him she wanted to leave for an exciting job in New York and he’d looked at her with shock and disbelief-and he’d let her walk away.

But if he knew the true reason…That if she’d stayed his family would be ruined. That the old King had threatened everything Nikos loved if she stayed. How could he never have guessed?

He’d never, ever asked. He’d never so much as written. And, when she’d learned of Christa’s birth, she knew the reason why he hadn’t.

Her fingers were clenched into her palms so hard they hurt.

‘Papa,’ Christa said suddenly, as if she’d just realised Nikos was gone. She looked worried.

This wasn’t Christa’s fault. She had no right to let her own misery and confusion spread to this little girl. ‘He’ll be back soon,’ she said gently.

‘Papa.’

‘There’s a little zoo just near here. Do you like animals?’

The little girl considered. ‘Big?’ she asked.

‘Little. Funny animals. Friends.’

‘Friends,’ Christa said and put out a hand for Athena to help her to her feet. She smoothed her dress, tucked a sticky hand into Athena’s and had another lick of her ice cream. ‘Friends.’

There were so many questions…Where to start? An inquisition could be a good way to send Nicky straight back to his mother.

‘Where do you go to school?’ he asked, and then thought, great, very insightful. Not.

‘Over there,’ the little boy told him, pointing south east.

Good. That got him places. ‘Do you like school?’

‘Sometimes. I hafta go to Greek lessons after school, too.’

‘You speak Greek?’

‘Mama does. She makes me.’

He needed time to take that one in.

They walked along. Kicking stones. Nikos suddenly realised…He was kicking stones in front of him. So was Nicky. With his left foot.

‘You’re left-handed?’

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