A ray of sunlight crept across Zoe's face gently rousing her with its warm caress. She opened her eyes and instantly sat up cursing. It had to be nine o'clock by now and the only ferry to Naxos had left at seven. She took a deep breath, it looked like today had to be the day, no more putting it off, no more distractions. It was time to begin the search for Costas. The caterpillars which had been gnawing at her stomach lining since she'd set foot on this island began morphing into butterflies. Was she ready to find him? The possibility was fast becoming a probability and she still couldn't answer that question. Where should she start? She picked up her Mother's letter and the photograph. She could ask a few people if they recognised anyone, it might give her some leads.
She sent emails to Sandra and her Father telling them it would be another day before she had a phone, then put on a light sundress and sandals, grabbed a hat and shades and went down for breakfast.
"Kalimera Zoe," Eleni greeted her cheerfully.
"Kalimera," Zoe was surprised and concerned to find Eleni still there. "Eleni, you work too hard."
"I do," Eleni sighed. "But I get plenty rest in the winter months."
"That's something I suppose," Zoe said as she kissed her cheek. "Eleni, would it be possible to keep the room until Friday morning?"
"No problem, is yours till Saturday."
"Wonderful, I'd like to pay now and get that out of the way if I can."
"Ochi, no, everything is paid," Eleni said emphatically.
"What, who, how is that possible?"
"Stavros paid, to thank you for help with the wedding photographs."
"Oh no, really, he shouldn't have done that."
"He say he want to, it is insult to him if you don't accept."
"Well in that case, will you, please, thank him for me?"
"Is we must thank you." Eleni said giving her a kiss on both cheeks. "Now, I get you some breakfast, endaksi."
As Eleni was clearing away the plates from yet another stupendous breakfast, Zoe took out the photograph.
"Eleni, can I ask you something?" she began trying to keep her voice steady. "My mother visited Linos years ago and made some friends. I was wondering if you recognised anybody."
"Let me see," Eleni said as she pulled out a chair and sat beside Zoe. "This was the reason you visited our little island. When was she here?" she asked as she studied the photo.
"They were here about twenty-seven years ago. They stayed at the Hotel Aphrodite." Was it possible that Costas still worked there? "I've always wanted to come after listening to my mother and her friends describe the island,"
"Ah, before she had you. Which one is your Mother?"
"She's in the middle with the red hair."
"She is lovely." Eleni looked at Zoe.
Zoe could see Eleni thought that they didn't look much alike.
"She died two years ago," Zoe said quietly.
Eleni squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, agapi mou."
"Thank you. So do you have any idea who some of these people may be?"
"Let me see, that boy there," Eleni pointed to the one standing next to Becky. "He looks like Manolis, but maybe is just the moustache. You need to ask someone older, who might remember more than me. I was just a child then. I ask Antoni," she said as she walked toward the kitchen.
Zoe saw Antoni nod and say a name. Her heart was pounding as Eleni came back with a smile on her face.
"He say is Manolis. He lives on the outskirts of the village," she gave the photo back to Zoe.
"If you go down the main road from the harbour, then ask anyone, they show you his house."
Zoe picked up her camera bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Thank you Eleni, I'll do that. See you later," she said as she scanned the harbour one more time. There was still no sign of Leo's boat, she wished that fact didn't make her feel so dejected.
After a big sigh, she mentally picked herself up, at least she had a lead, maybe this wouldn't be so difficult after all.
Those butterflies were beating their wings. What if this were a solid lead? What if she found Manolis and he said, 'Yes, I know Costas, he lives a few doors down with his wife and five children.' What would she do then?
She decided to take the long route, explore a little of the village, after all she had plenty of time. She wandered through the narrow lanes lined with overflowing shops and whitewashed houses. Quaint doorways framed with colourful bougainvillaea and fragrant jasmine were the norm as were the tiny windows trimmed with bright-blue shutters and lace curtains. Tubs of geraniums vied for space on the sun warmed step with the stray cats which gave her laconic stares as she passed.
As she walked away from the harbour, the village became residential, the shops where fewer and less touristy - the bakery, mini-market and dentist's surgery - but no tech stores. Slowly the road widened, and the houses began to thin out, most had small gardens.
She decided to photograph one picturesque house when she heard her name called. Lowering her camera, she turned to see an elderly lady, dressed in black, beckoning her from the house across the street.
"Kalimera Zoe, ti kaneis?"
"Kalimera, Kyria, kala kai esei?" Zoe replied in Greek knowing that any conversation she'd have with this woman would most likely continue in her native language. She wasn't surprised the woman knew her name. It seemed everyone on the island did.
"Please call me Sophia, and I'm very well, thank you. I saw you at the wedding." The women replied in Greek "I need some help, could you come with me."
Zoe stowed her camera and followed the woman into her house. It was small and modest with whitewashed walls and simple furniture. Traditional handmade lace and embroidered cloths covered the tops of tables and cabinets. It felt comfortable, homely and was spotlessly clean.
"In here," Sophia called from the kitchen. "The last time my grandson dried the dishes he put the pot up there," she pointed to the top of the cabinet. "He is tall, so it's no problem for him, but I can't reach it, and it is too dangerous for me to climb on a chair."
"No problem, I can reach it," Zoe grunted as she stretch up to grab the pot.
"Thank you, so much," Sophia said as she pulled out a chair and sat Zoe down at the table. "What can I offer you?"
Zoe had to accept something to be polite. "Just some water thank you."
While Sophia busied herself taking plates and glasses from her cupboards, Zoe looked around the room. It had the usual range of cabinets, cooker, fridge and sink although they looked old, again they were very clean. The dining table and chairs sat in the middle, and a settee was placed under the window which looked out onto the garden, as did the open door beside it.
Sophia returned with a glass of cold water and a tiny dish of spoon sweets.
"Eat," she commanded gently. "I made this yesterday, the grapes were picked from my garden."
Etiquette dictated she at least try it; however, it was no hardship, the syrupy fruit was definitely sweet but also delicious. Zoe sucked the spoon appreciatively and got a satisfied nod from Sophia.
A photograph on the opposite wall caught Zoe's attention. A somewhat familiar and beautiful young woman was smiling at a gorgeous little boy, four years or so old, Sophia noticed, took the photo off the wall and brought it over to her. With a deep sigh and tear glazed eyes she said. "This was my daughter, she died a few years ago, and that's my grandson Leonidas," she finished proudly.
Leonidas had risen early. He touched base with his offices in Asia and spoke with his project manager in Bali. All the while thoughts of Zoe were hovering below the surface, tugging at his concentration. He went for a daylight inspection of the resort, gave some instructions to Spyros and then decided he needed to find Zoe.
His conscience was bothering him. His father was right, he had to tell Zoe who he was before she found out from someone else. She would be annoyed, perhaps even hurt, thinking he was playing with her. He was wryly amused that that should be so important to him, but conceded that he couldn't wait to see her again.
Soon he was skimming across the bay in a sleek, high powered speed boat. As he docked at the harbour, he glanced up at the Villa of the Gods. He half expected that Zoe would be sitting on her balcony waiting for his return. That befuddling kiss had prevented him from making a date so he could only hope she was still on Linos.
"Leonidas, Kalimera. You've become quite a regular here." Eleni greeted him with her usual teasing manner.
Leonidas liked that, he liked that nobody on this island treated him as someone special. Here, he was the son of Constantine, who was the son of Stavros and Athena, who were cousins or related in some way to most of the families here. Nobody thought of him as the son of a billionaire and multimillionaire in his own right. Of course, his family commanded respect but only because they'd always considered themselves islanders first and contributed in any way they could to its welfare. He loved that he could walk into a cafe or taverna and sit down for a coffee or a drink with anybody, have a down to earth conversation about anything. It was what kept him grounded. He'd missed that when he lived abroad, there he'd been just another rich kid, accepted because his father had millions, here the people accepted him because he was one of them. His worth was not gauged by the amount of Euros in his bank account but by his deeds as a man.
"Kalimera Eleni," he kissed both her cheeks. "Have you seen Zoe?"
"She went to explore the village about half an hour ago."
"Which direction, did she say?"
"Away from the harbour, she took her camera with her." Eleni replied briefly and turned away.
"I'm not getting anything else out of you, am I?
"Tsk," Eleni gave a sly grin and an upward tilt of her chin.
Leo shook his head and chuckled. Zoe had certainly found a place in Eleni's heart.
Zoe's hands were trembling, she almost dropped the picture. So this was Leo's mother, she was beautiful and he looked exactly like her. But her agitation was caused by the sudden realisation that this lovely old woman standing next to her was his grandmother. What would he think if he found her here, would he once again be suspicious of her motives.
She wasn't surprised, when she heard his voice, it felt as if something in the universe were pushing them together in the most confronting of ways. There he was standing in the doorway, looking totally distracting in dark linen trousers and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A matching jacket was slung over one shoulder, and he was frowning disconcertedly.