A Father for Baby Rose. Margaret Barker
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She gave herself another mental talking-to. She wasn’t in the dating market any more. Neither, it seemed, was Yannis— wise man! Never again! Not after the disastrous relationships she’d suffered over the years. Life was going to be very good if she avoided meaningful relationships.
“I think this is your taxi coming along the coast road.”
She gathered Rose up into her arms. “Kali nichta, Yannis,”
“Kali nichta, Cathy. I…” He hesitated. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.”
CHAPTER TWO
CATHY waited until she could hear Rose breathing that easy, steady rhythmic way that usually indicated her daughter was well and truly out for the count—for a few hours anyway. Barefoot, she walked backwards so she could keep an eye on her daughter, just in case she’d misjudged the situation.
She propped open the door then looked back to make sure she’d put the teddy-bear books that Rose loved so much at the end of her cot, where she would see them if she woke up early. With any luck, as had happened a few times recently back home in England, she just might become entranced by one of the pictures and give her sleeping mother a few more minutes of blissful oblivion.
Was she being over-cautious, over-anxious, over the top in her solitary state as a single parent? If she had a husband or lover waiting in bed for her now, would she be taking so much time? That would depend on the man in question. Sitting down at her dressing table, she confronted the image of an exhausted, sleep-deprived thirty-one-year-old mum with developing crow’s feet at the corners of her tired blue eyes.
What an evening! she told herself as she wiped off the bronzer that she’d applied earlier in the evening so as not to frighten the tourists with her unseasonal pallor. It may only be April but out here on Ceres the season was already in full swing following the Easter festivities, and there were lots of healthy-looking people tramping over the hills and lying on the beaches.
She’d never imagined that she would end the day in the company of Yannis Karavolis who, although technically in charge of the hospital, hadn’t seemed to know who she was when she’d arrived. She’d obviously been infinitely forgettable when she’d met him eighteen months ago at Tanya’s wedding, whereas he… She felt embarrassed now that she’d been attracted to him as soon as she’d seen him skulking— perhaps that wasn’t the word, more kind of hiding—in the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to mingle with the revellers.
She’d split up with Dave two weeks before, and had already been licking her wounds and vowing never to get interested in a man again. But there had been something appealing about Yannis tonight. His total vulnerability. His obvious unshakeable devotion to his deceased wife. Tanya had just told her about his wife’s tragic death, she remembered.
She realised now that if she were to fancy him—which she didn’t…well, no, she mustn’t! But if she were to even think of him as sexy, which he was, handsome, interesting to be with, yes, but only when he wasn’t thinking about his wife.
Now, that would be the obstacle. Yannis’s total obsession with the unattainable. His wife was dead, but yet, in his mind, she obviously lived on, set on a pedestal where nothing and nobody could ever replace her. So in a way, if anybody did try to take her down from the pedestal, somebody—not herself, oh, no! But just supposing she were to allow her feelings of attraction towards Yannis to develop into…
But she wasn’t going to! However, if she hadn’t decided never to have a meaningful relationship or even a fling with another man she just might, having imagined herself to be attracted to Yannis, forget her single-woman plan and have another go at romance.
She picked up the hairbrush and brushed her hair vigorously. It would be a stupid thing to do but she was renowned for making stupid decisions—or rather non-decisions, drifting into disastrous situations that started out as fun and ended in tears.
And this hypothetical idea that she’d just dreamed up would most certainly end in tears! The goddess-like wife would always be there with them. And Cathy had played second fiddle long enough. Dave had told her he was separated from his wife and waiting for the divorce to come through. And idiot that she was, she’d believed him. The long business trips abroad he’d had to make away from her! She hadn’t questioned them because she had been in love and, therefore, that meant she trusted him implicitly.
What an idiot she could be! For a whole year she’d believed everything he’d told her. She’d been taken in by every single lie he’d told her.
It was the truth she couldn’t believe!
That awful Saturday morning when he’d turned up and announced his divorce wasn’t going through as planned. Well…sheepish expression on his face…to be honest, they hadn’t got around to planning it. Actually, he was still theoretically living at home. He and his wife had decided they were going to make a go of it. Purely for the sake of the kids, you know. His wife didn’t know about Cathy so he’d be truly grateful if she would keep it that way.
Mind you, if it were up to him…blah, blah, blah… She’d stopped listening to him by this time as she remembered the lonely Christmas she’d spent because he’d told her he had to go and stay with his sick mother. The numerous weekends when he’d had to fly away on business.
She put down the hairbrush and stared into the mirror again, this time seeing the face of a very gullible woman who never learned by her mistakes. But at least this time she’d learned. It would be the same kind of scenario if she chose to have any kind of dalliance with Yannis Karavolis. She would play second fiddle again to the perfect wife who could do no wrong. Yannis’s wife may not be with them in the flesh but she would certainly be with them in spirit.
She forced herself to grin at the picture of desolation she posed in the mirror. “Don’t take yourself so seriously,” she told herself. “It’s not as if you’re remotely attracted to the man so the situation isn’t going to arise.”
And with that she crawled between the cool sheets and tried to fall asleep. The fact that she tossed and turned for half the night was put down to the fact that she was suffering from jet-lag. Towards dawn she decided to get up and finish unpacking and sorting out her bedroom. At the first squeak from Rose she was in there, smiling welcomingly at her daughter, reaching out her arms for a cuddle.
* * *
In his bedroom overlooking the wide inlet of moonlit sea in Nimborio bay, Yannis was also finding it hard to sleep. He hadn’t expected to enjoy the evening when he’d invited Cathy and her little daughter Rose to join him for a drink. He’d certainly never envisaged they would all have supper together. And now it was time to admit to himself that he hadn’t felt so alive since before Maroula had died.
He flung the sheet away from him. It was too hot to be covered tonight. He ran a hand down the side of his naked body as he experienced a feeling of strength flowing through him. It was a good feeling, but the feeling was also tinged with confusion. Was it guilt, this awful feeling now that he shouldn’t be able to enjoy life without Maroula? He supposed it was. He didn’t really think he deserved to enjoy himself like that in the company of an unattached young woman.
It wasn’t as if he’d flirted with her, because he hadn’t. But she might have misinterpreted his friendliness as an ulterior motive, mightn’t she? She might