and held it as easily as if it were an empty carrier bag and then handed it to a driver who was coming to the door.
‘Are we going back to the hotel?’ she asked as she climbed into the car. He had thought of everything, Connie realised, because there was even a baby seat. Or rather he had informed his driver, because Connie really couldn’t imagine him fitting it, and certainly he offered no help as for the first time she wrestled with straps and the buckle and fitted Leo into the seat.
‘I don’t know how it goes.’ She was embarrassed after a couple of attempts and he sat in the seat beside her, clearly wanting to get going and unused to this type of delay.
‘Don’t look at me,’ Nico said, and drummed his fingers on the car door as he sat impatiently waiting for the click that told them Leo was safely secured.
It was only as they drove off, as her life changed forever again, that Connie realised not once had he so much as looked at their baby.
‘IT’S beautiful.’ It was her first glimpse of Xanos in almost a year and, even if she had never seen the south, it looked like home. Certainly it was a relief to almost be there.
Though luxurious, the journey had been long, especially with a fretful baby and milk that just wasn’t flowing.
Connie had been tempted to ask if they could stop at a chemist when they hit the mainland so she could buy some provisions in case her milk ran out, but was too embarrassed to have such a discussion with Nico. Instead, she stayed quiet as they transferred to a small seaplane. As Xanos came into view, her tiredness lifted a little at the sight before her, great sweeps of beach that broke up the bright blue ocean and then gave way to lush, green hills. Though it was her island, Connie had never visited this side, let alone from a seaplane. From the air it was completely stunning.
She knew there had been many grumbles as to the size of the development but she had never really comprehended just how big it was. Now, as they drew closer, Connie could see the lavish houses with their infinity pools. There was a large hotel that Nico pointed out, called Ravels, and her throat tightened with the thought of living amongst all the finery.
Her family was considered wealthy by old Xanos standards, but their wealth was nothing, nothing compared to this, and frankly it was all rather intimidating.
‘This,’ Nico said as the plane made a perfect landing and glided smoothly to a small jetty, ‘is where sometimes you will get wet. Depending on the tide,’ he explained, but the tide was behaving today. The pilot unloaded both her and Nico’s luggage, Connie’s a rather sad-looking affair beside his smart black cases. There was one tricky moment: the pilot had placed a small ramp for her to walk on and she wanted to turn, to ask for Nico to take her baby while she negotiated it and then for him to pass Leo to her, but even as she turned her head to ask, she changed her mind. Nico made his feelings perfectly clear on that subject with his choice of words.
‘Pass him to the pilot. Then he can take your hand and help you.’
The pilot did help, handed her back Leo, then went ahead with their cases as Connie walked at a rather slower pace along the jetty and then onto the sandy beach, revelling in the feel of the Xanos sun on her skin again, and scents she hadn’t known she’d missed but which turned out to be blissfully familiar. The salty smell of the ocean filled her hungry lungs, and even if it wasn’t to her parents’, she felt a little as if she were coming home, bringing Leo for the first time to a place where he belonged.
‘It used to be considered the poor side,’ Connie said. ‘But not now.’ She looked as luxury cars sped along the narrow road. She looked at the hotel and a large balcony where she could just make out diners enjoying the early evening sun. They walked just a little further, little Leo growing heavy in her arms, and as they stepped off the beach she decided she was getting rather too used to Nico’s lavish ways because she was sure a driver would appear to take them the rather long walk to the development. Quite sure, in fact, that the pilot would have their bags already loaded in an undoubtedly luxurious car.
Except there was no car, just an empty stretch of street, the pilot walking out through a stone arch on the other side of the road and nodding to Nico.
‘All inside for you, sir.’
Nico thanked him and, to her surprise Nico led her through the stone archway and into a garden that was a real one. The noise of low water fountains greeted her, as did a full, glittering stone pool and there was nothing intimidating about it. It was nothing like she had imagined Nico owning, for this was no glittering modern property. Instead, it was a glorious old whitewashed home with an elderly couple waiting at the doorway to greet them. The only sign that it was Nico’s home was a low sports car parked to the side of the house, and as Nico saw her look at it he offered her the use of it any time he was at work.
Connie was quite sure she wouldn’t drive it!
‘Despina.’ Nico introduced an elderly lady who, unlike Connie’s mother, was dressed in black for real reasons. She practically fell on Leo, asking if it was okay for her to have a hold. It was a relief to hand him over, to let Despina take him, as her husband, Paulo, shook Nico’s hand and then pointed out the changes that he had made to the garden in the week or two that Nico had been away. It wasn’t just the weight of the baby in her arms that lifted, but a vast weight from her shoulders as she was ushered inside by Despina, leaving Paulo to work in the garden. It was how it should have been for Leo with her parents, Connie thought. This the welcome home that he deserved.
‘Go and wash and change,’ Despina said, ‘and then I have ready your dinner.’ She showed her to a room that was simple. Despina was still holding Leo as Connie looked around. There was a wooden bed, with crisp Greek linen and lace, and shutters on the window, and, amazingly, there was already a cot put up. Even if it was being silly, Connie felt a little uncomfortable, wondering if it was Despina’s dead son’s crib. There were many superstitions on the island that she’d grown up with, but Despina soon put her at ease. ‘My niece just moved—they are away for a year with her husband and children. She is happy for you to use her things.’
‘That’s so kind of you.’ Connie was touched at the thought that had gone into all this, and then, just as she was about to go, Leo started crying and Connie had to feed him. ‘It’s every two hours …’ She closed her eyes in exhaustion. ‘I don’t think he’s getting enough.’
How nice it was that Despina was patient, that she sat with Connie as she attempted to feed, but Leo kept crying and Connie was getting more agitated. ‘I think it might be the travel and everything,’ Connie admitted. It was such bliss to have someone wise to talk to, to confide in, another woman who had been there before and done it.
‘I bought some formula and bottles when Nico said you were bringing a baby. It’s all there in the kitchen.’
‘I still want to feed him.’
‘Maybe now you can rest, things will get better, but if he is waking so much at night …’ She gave a shrug. ‘It’s there just in case. For now have your shower.’ Despina said. ‘I will watch him.’
It was bliss to have a shower and for the first time not have to listen out for Leo, knowing he was safe in Despina’s arms. She washed her hair, too, felt the last of London slide down the plughole, and then she combed it through and washed out the clothes she had been wearing for tomorrow. Then she went to her bedroom where Despina had placed a now sleeping Leo in his cot and Connie opened her case—the decision what to wear was not a difficult one. Certainly she wished she had more choice, but she settled for leggings and a long swing top that had seen her through most of her pregnancy and the weeks after the birth.
She wasn’t particularly nervous to go for dinner, Despina had made her so welcome, but as Connie stepped into the living area, she saw the small kitchen was empty. The table was laid and Nico was sitting on the lounge, talking on the phone, and she realised they were alone.
‘Where’s