Athena…or his daughter.
Athena and the unknown Oscar and Nicholas.
So she had a family, too. Well, so be it, he thought, trying to be rational. He had his Christa and he was content. What he was feeling now was the echoes of the past. From now on the personal had to be set aside for the good of the island.
Tomorrow he had to find her again. She had to face her duty. She must.
He’d take Christa sightseeing tomorrow morning. Maybe they could take a buggy ride round Central Park. She’d enjoy that. Then, in the afternoon, he’d go to see Athena again.
And get his jacket back.
He thought of his jacket as he’d last seen it, draped round Athena’s shoulders as she’d fled the restaurant. Maybe he should have followed her.
But…and it was a big but. There had been fear in her eyes as she’d fled. Real fear.
He didn’t know why. He intended to find out, but for now…He was inexplicably glad she’d worn his jacket home.
How could she explain a man’s jacket to the unknown Nicholas and Oscar? Unaccountably, he found himself smiling. He hoped they were good to her. Yeah, that was a rational thought. Generous, even.
But…she had to come back to the island, even if it meant she brought this unknown Oscar and Nicholas with her. Though their existence could make things much more complicated.
Whatever. Tomorrow could be faced tomorrow, he told himself, trying to block out the unwanted image of Athena with another man by her side. Trying to block out how it made him feel. After all this time, surely jealousy was crazy.
Of course it was.
He kissed his daughter softly on the forehead, the touch and scent of her soft little body helping him put things into perspective.
‘Goodnight, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘We’ll have a good time tomorrow; just see if we don’t. And then we’ll persuade the Princess Athena to come home. Where we belong and where she belongs, too.’
In the morning the sun finally decided to shine. Nikos and his little daughter did the circuit of Central Park twice, and then they did it again. Christa’s unalloyed happiness, the sun on her face, the beauty of the horses, the garishness of the decoration on the buggy…she loved it. She clung to him, breathless with excitement, laughing out loud for sheer joy.
Halfway through their third circuit he saw Athena.
And a dog.
And a child.
How could it be? How could fate be this cruel?
Why on earth had she decided to come to a tourist destination this morning?
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
They’d been using their ball-thrower. Dogs were supposed to be on leads here, but she knew a place…most dog owners did. So they’d tossed the ball until Oscar was out of puff. Nicky had run more than the dog. Oscar wasn’t the brightest light on the Christmas tree, so about half the time it had been Nicky who’d had to retrieve it. Finally they’d bought ice cream cones and now they were waiting for Oscar to finish his before they walked home.
Oscar, a big, lumbering bear of canine dopiness, took his ice cream eating seriously.
A horse and buggy was wheeling briskly along the path towards them. The horses looked gorgeous, she thought. The day was gorgeous, making up for last night’s misery. She was dumb to be anxious on a day like this.
She chuckled at Oscar’s pink nose.
The buggy grew closer. The driver raised his crop in salute. It was that sort of day.
She smiled. She waved back.
And then she saw who was in the buggy.
Nikos.
And a child?
The sounds around them faded. Everything faded.
She heard Nikos’s snapped order as if it came from a distance. The buggy stopped. Nikos climbed down, paid the driver and lifted the little girl down after him.
The child was little and dark and beautifully dressed, in a pink dress with a wide pink bow, white socks edged with pink lace and shiny pink shoes. A pink Alice band held back her glossy black hair. Shoulder-length with bangs.
Smiling and smiling.
Down’s syndrome.
The little girl laughed as Nikos swung her down, and Nikos laughed back.
Athena’s heart did a back flip. Landed upside down, somewhere else in her chest than where it should be.
Down’s syndrome…
Her aunt’s letter came back to her.
‘Hi,’ she managed, and if her voice came out a squeak she couldn’t help it.
‘Hi,’ Nikos said back. He sounded as incredulous as she was-and as wary. The horse and buggy bowled on, leaving Nikos and his daughter on the verge of the path.
Nikos wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at Nicky.
Nicky, who was the spitting image of his father-a mirror image of the younger Nikos.
Father…and son.
She should have…she should have…
It was too late for should haves. The time was now.
‘This is Christa,’ Nikos said at last, and his voice seemed to come from a distance. ‘Christa, this is my friend, Athena.’
‘Dog,’ Christa said in Greek, still smiling. Pointing to Oscar. ‘Ice…Ice cream.’
The ice cream vendor was right behind them. ‘Would…would you like an ice cream, Christa?’ Athena asked, and then thought desperately, what if she had a dairy allergy. What if…
‘Yes,’ Christa said, very firmly. She looked up at her father, searched for another word and found it. ‘Please.’
She smiled again. She was gorgeous, Athena thought, and suddenly found she was blinking back tears. Nikos was holding his little daughter’s hand with pride. With tenderness. With love.
‘Ice cream, Papa?’ Christa asked and Nikos nodded. He hadn’t taken his eyes from Nicky.
‘Introduce us,’ he said.
‘This is Nicky,’ she said, trying to find the right words. And then, because she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea-even if there was no denying the wrong idea was right-she added quickly, ‘Nicholas.’
‘Of course,’ he said. Non-committal. ‘And the dog?’
‘Oscar.’ She turned away-fast. ‘I’ll buy Christa a cone. Would you like one?’
‘No. Thank you.’
It took time to get the cone. There were people queuing ahead of her. Then she thought she should have asked Christa what she wanted. But somehow…she knew. Strawberry.
And she was right. ‘Pink,’ Christa said with huge pleasure. She looked at the bench where Nicky and Oscar were seated. ‘Sit,’ she said.
Nicky smiled and shifted, just slightly, so there was room for Christa to sit between him and Oscar.
Athena thought, I’m going to cry.
She was
Still Nikos said nothing. Neither did she. Words were too big. Or too small. There was nothing to fill this silence.
