left Kalithi the previous afternoon. Despite his reluctance to see her leave, Demetri’s father had arranged for a helicopter to take her to Athens instead of Andros, where a first-class air ticket back to London had been waiting for her.
Jane had been very grateful, even if Demetri’s mother hadn’t approved. She’d slept badly the night before she left, not knowing where Demetri was or what he was doing. She couldn’t deny the fears she had for both his and Stefan’s safety, and if Maria hadn’t made her position so impossible she might have stayed for a couple of days longer, just to assure herself that all was well.
In the event, Leo had assured her that he’d had word from Demetri and that the news was good, but that wasn’t the same as hearing it for herself. And Leo was going to be here, at the epicentre of all information, while back home in London, Jane would have to rely on the news channels for any word about the Artemis. And her husband.
Leo had accompanied her to the helicopter pad and said his goodbyes there, far from his wife’s disapproving gaze. He’d thanked her again for coming, had expressed the wish that perhaps they’d meet again, and Jane had told him that, any time he wanted to see her, he had only to let her know.
Which had perhaps not been the wisest thing to say, in the circumstances, she acknowledged. How could she return to Kalithi when in a matter of weeks, possibly less, her condition was going to be obvious?
Still, it was unlikely to happen, she thought, feeling a twinge of despair at the thought of never seeing Demetri’s father again. While they’d waited for the pilot to load her luggage, she’d got the feeling that there’d been so much more he’d wanted to say to her. She guessed he’d wanted to defend his son, but he hadn’t been able to find the words.
Now, however, she had to put those days on Kalithi behind her. Her life was here, in London, and in a matter of days she would have to re-immerse herself in the business of buying and selling art and antiques. She owed it to Olga. She owed it to herself.
Mrs Lang opened the door as Jane walked up the garden path. ‘Well, well!’ she exclaimed, accepting her daughter’s kiss before stepping back to allow her to enter the narrow hall of the townhouse. ‘You didn’t let me know you were back.’
‘I got home last night,’ said Jane, gesturing towards the kitchen at the back of the house. ‘Shall we just sit in here?’
‘No, we’ll go upstairs.’ Apart from the kitchen and a second bathroom, all the living quarters were on the first and second floors. ‘I’ve just made a pot of tea. You go ahead. I’ll get the tray.’
Jane hesitated. ‘Do you need any help?’
‘I’m quite capable of carrying a tray upstairs,’ retorted Mrs Lang tartly. ‘I’ll just be a minute.’
‘OK.’
With a shrug, Jane climbed the stairs and entered her mother’s living room, which overlooked the front of the house. Polished cabinets, occasional tables covered with an assortment of knick-knacks, and a neat three-piece suite. There was patterned broadloom on the floor, and lace curtains at the windows, and Jane couldn’t help comparing it to the almost spartan appearance of her own apartment.
No wonder Mrs Lang didn’t encourage Lucy and her brood to visit, she thought drily, trying to distract herself. Paul and Jessica couldn’t help but create havoc here.
‘Sit down, for goodness’ sake!’
Her mother had appeared in the doorway and now she came bustling into the room to set the tray she was carrying on the low table in front of the hearth. It was warm enough outside not to need the gas fire today, but Jane could tell from the heat of the room that her mother had had the radiators on.
She seated herself in one of the armchairs, accepting the cup of tea her mother handed her. ‘Thanks,’ she said, grateful it wasn’t coffee. She still couldn’t face that on an empty stomach.
‘So, there we are.’ Mrs Lang perched on the sofa close by. ‘This is cosy, isn’t it?’ Then she gave her daughter an appraising stare. ‘But you’re still looking peaky. Do I take it, it didn’t go well?’
‘It—went OK.’ Jane was vague. ‘Leo made me very welcome.’
‘What about Demetri? Was he there?’ Then she frowned. ‘That reminds me: there was something about a tanker of his catching fire. It was on the TV this morning. In the Mediter-ranean, I think. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?’
Jane caught her breath. ‘What did they say? Has—has anyone been hurt?’
Her mother’s frown deepened. ‘If you mean was Demetri mentioned, then no. Obviously, he wouldn’t be. Men like him don’t get involved in minor incidents like explosions!’
‘That’s not true.’ Jane couldn’t let her get away with such a statement. ‘As a matter of fact, I did know about the accident. It happened the night before I came home. Both Demetri and his brother left for Athens immediately.’
‘So is that why you came home?’
‘No!’ Jane was defensive. ‘I’d already told Leo I was leaving before it happened.’
‘Oh, well…’ Her mother sniffed and took a sip of her tea before continuing, ‘From what I heard, it wasn’t much of a fire. I suppose it made news because of the danger it could have posed to other vessels.’
Jane nodded, not trusting herself to speak about it. It wasn’t the danger the tanker had posed to other vessels that had alarmed her. Simply knowing her husband was involved had been enough.
There was silence for a few moments and then Mrs Lang said, ‘And how was Mr Souvakis?’
‘Oh—not too bad. Very thin, of course, and he doesn’t have a lot of strength. But his mind’s still as active as ever.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Her mother sounded sceptical.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, he knows you and Demetri are getting a divorce, doesn’t he? So he must have known it wasn’t the wisest thing, inviting you out there. Surely he didn’t think that bringing you two together might cause a change of heart?’
‘No.’ Jane’s hand trembled and she quickly replaced her cup and saucer on the tray. ‘No, of course not.’
Her mother studied her thoughtfully. ‘Did you?’ she asked shrewdly and Jane felt the hot colour flood her cheeks.
‘Did I what?’
‘Hope that Demetri might change his mind?’
‘No!’ And it was true. When she’d left England, she hadn’t hoped for any such thing. ‘I—I left Demetri, Mum. Not the other way about.’
‘Hmm.’ Mrs Lang didn’t look convinced, and Jane thought how impossible it was going to be to tell her about the baby now. ‘So when are you going back to work?’
Jane expelled a weary breath. ‘I don’t know. Tomorrow. The day after. I’ll speak to Olga.’
Her mother huffed. ‘How nice to be so blasé about it.’
Jane moistened her lips. ‘Well—I haven’t been feeling all that good, actually.’
‘Ah, I thought so.’ Mrs Lang looked triumphant. ‘I told you, you looked ill before you went away.’
‘So you did.’ Jane felt a sense of resignation.
‘What is it, then? Have you been to see a doctor?’
‘I went before I went away.’
‘And you never said a word.’ Her mother looked offended. ‘I suppose you told that Ivanovitch woman what you were doing. You tell her everything. But I’m just your mother. You don’t think I deserve to know what’s going on—’
‘I’m