‘Are youokay? You seemed to be miles away. It looks like a storm’s on theway; you better get going soon if you don’t want to get soaked.They can be pretty dramatic, you know.’
‘Hey that’senough questions. I’m fine and no, I won’t have a coffee now, I’llget a drink when I get there.’
Jeremy hadbeen working with Howard since returning to the city after a fewmonths in hiding, in Athens for a few weeks before renting a roomabove a bar in the small town of Malia on the northern coast ofCrete. He’d taken enough of the money he’d regained from Gemma toget by, leaving most of it for Howard to invest in expanding thecafé. And things had gone pretty well by all accounts; as well asthe café downstairs, Howard had used the extra money to buyupstairs and open what was beginning to establish itself as apretty decent upmarket restaurant.
Looking back,meeting Howard had been a godsend. He’d helped Jeremy change hisidentity and get away from the city without passing any judgement;in fact, he had seemed to be in his element helping arrange thingsback in November. Even though they’d only re-established contact afew days previously, Jeremy had been happy to trust him with over£40,000 while he laid low. In reality he hadn’t had much choice:his options were limited and carrying that amount of cash aroundwasn’t really one of them. Nonetheless his instincts had provedright as far as Howard was concerned. He even quite liked the soundof his new name too.
He grabbed a coat andgave Adrijana a quick kiss.
‘You going to comedown before closing, have a quick drink maybe?’
‘Yes probably, willpop in on my mum and dad on the way down, see youlater.’
It was justafter five o’clock and it would take him about 15 minutes to walkdown the hill to the old city and the restaurant. Although stillhot, it was a pleasant enough walk, onto Ulica Franca Supila andthen down past the Hotel Excelsior, originally built seventy oddyears ago but regularly upgraded to maintain its position as themost elegant and best situated place for the rich and famous tostay – after all, both Elizabeth Taylor and Queen Elizabeth II hadbeen guests, so it had some credibility. As he had expected, thepebbled beach outside the city gates was still pretty packed atthis time of day – tourism really was beginning to take off inDubrovnik, and so much the better, thought Jeremy. Howard’s Tavernawas just off Placa Ulica, the main thoroughfare running through theold city. In spite of its lack of originality, Jeremy was happyenough with the name, he wasn’t after any publicity and it wasHoward’s venture after all. When he arrived it would be thetransition period between the daytime café trade and the arrival ofthe early evening diners. The general arrangement was for Jeremy tooversee the evening business with Howard doing the daytime shift.Most evenings, though, Howard and Branka would come and join Jeremyand Adrijana for a few drinks and to sort out any of the practicalissues that came with the business. Howard had an apartment just afew minutes away in the old city itself. Branka’s friend Adrijanahad been a regular visitor when Jeremy had returned to the city andit had been a stroke of luck that she was good looking and single.After one of their post-closing drinking sessions, Jeremy and shehad carried on and gone on into the town before ending up at theapartment Howard had sorted for Jeremy’s return after they haddecided he’d be better off away from the city for a few months atleast.
ApparentlyYugoslavian women were renowned for their beauty and Adrijana gavecredence to that; tall and slender, she had a Mediterraneancomplexion, with olive coloured skin, light brown hair and deepbrown eyes. Although she usually tended to dress casually insandals, T-shirts and skirts, she managed to radiate both eleganceand sexiness. Jeremy felt as happy as he had done for years. Howardhimself had proved to be easy to work with and good company. He hadbecome something of an expert in the local liqueurs and Jeremy hadquickly learned to appreciate them himself. He had soon developed ataste for Rakia, or Grappa as the regulars called it, some of whichwas well over fifty per cent alcohol; but even more so forSlivovitz, made from damson plums and typically served fromelegant, leather-wrapped bottles. He certainly hadn’t missed thedrugs which he reckoned paled by comparison.
As he reachedPloce Gate, the Eastern entrance to the old city, the sun was stillshining although the storm clouds they’d seen from the balcony weregathering force. A cruise ship was just visible on the horizon, nodoubt heading for the port for a weekend stopover. It seemed, tothe outside world at least, that things hadn’t changed that muchsince the fateful day last November. He’d actually been back to thescene that lunchtime and while being strangely moved by it, it wasapparent that those events hadn’t impacted on the wider world. Ithad been the first time since then and the first time under his newguise as Jeremy. He had needed to see for himself whether the scenematched his memory, and the occasional nightmares too.
As it hadturned out, the island of Lokrum was becoming ever more popularwith tourists, while Mrtvo More itself had looked quite benign andinviting, even. There was no sign of the accident nine monthspreviously; certainly none of the bathers there showed any concern.The only acknowledgement of Gemma’s death seemed to be a sign thathadn’t been there last November warning of the dangers of jumpingoff the rocks. It didn’t appear to be having much effect and Jeremyhadn’t been able to take his eyes off the show-offs diving from therocks without a care for the danger.
That day lastNovember, when he was still Mark, remained etched on his mind. Asthey hit the water Mark had assumed that was it; one hand wasgrasping Gemma’s arm but they separated as they sank. She had beennearest to the rocky wall and he heard her head crack against aprotruding stone. He had managed to grab some kind of bush or plantand had eventually scrambled to the surface and hauled himself upto
