The next day he’d tried to convince her to go surfing on the north side of the island with them all. Her friends had jumped at the chance but Jo had politely refused. She’d happily tagged along to watch, however, sitting on the beach and refusing to acknowledge his cajoling to come into the water.
Shortly after that he’d gone with his Scandinavian friends to a nearby uninhabited island for a couple of days of mountain climbing.
When they’d returned, the first thing he’d heard when he’d charged his phone had been Helios’s message telling him to come home. Their grandmother had been taken seriously ill and wasn’t expected to survive.
For the second time in his life he’d been lost. The first time had been the night their grandfather had flown to their English boarding school to tell him and Helios that their parents had been killed. Nothing could ever touch that night for pain, but he’d had his brother there, and for that one night his grandfather—who in that moment had been a true grandfather to them—had held his two grandsons close.
On Illya he’d been alone, and far from his family. He’d been on an island in the middle of the Adriatic Sea where the only means of transport had been the daily ferry.
He’d finished half a bottle of gin in his chalet alone, waiting until he’d figured everyone would be in bed before staggering outside, intending to sit on the beach.
There had been a light on in Jo’s chalet.
Thinking back, he was surprised he’d known which chalet had been hers.
‘According to my mother, her side of the family has a direct link to Queen Victoria via many marriages,’ she said now, in that same amused tone he remembered from five years ago. ‘I think I’m something like six-hundred-and-thirty-ninth in line to the throne.’
‘Being that far up the chain you must have grown up in your own palace,’ he teased, playing along with her irreverence.
‘I grew up in an Oxfordshire manor house so old and draughty it would have been warmer sleeping in an igloo.’
‘Rather like sleeping in a palace, then,’ he observed with a grin.
She laughed, her eyes meeting his. ‘Your palace is wonderful and has hot running water. My parents’ house has a boiler so old my mother passes it off as an original feature. Saying that, the kennels and the stables always have decent heating.’
‘Did you have a lot of pets?’ He could just see her fussing over a small army of dogs.
She pulled a face. ‘Not quite. My mother turned the old outhouses into an animal sanctuary. She’ll take any animal in: cats, dogs, hedgehogs, horses—donkeys, even. Those she can’t rehome, she keeps.’
‘How many animals does she have?’
Her lips pursed as she thought. ‘Anything up to fifty of them. If she runs out of space she brings them into the house.’
‘That must have been magical for you as a child.’
She gave a shrug, her answer delayed by the waiter coming over with a jug of water and taking their order.
‘So your mother runs an animal sanctuary—what does your father do?’ he asked once they were alone again.
‘He drinks.’
His hand paused on his glass.
‘He’s an alcoholic.’
‘I’m sorry. Is he violent?’ He thought again of the drunken American college students who’d been so abusive to Jo and her friends. Drink had a habit of making some people cruel.
‘God, no. He’s actually very placid. He just sits in his study all day, working his way through his whisky.’
‘How does your mother cope?’
‘By ignoring him.’
‘Really?’
‘She despises him,’ Jo said flatly. ‘As far as she’s concerned, Dad spending his days pickling his liver is the best thing for him.’
His brow furrowed. ‘That’s harsh.’
‘It’s the truth. She thinks he’s weak and foolish. Maybe she’s right. He was a stockbroker, but he lost his job to the drink when I was a baby.’
‘So how do they survive?’ He couldn’t imagine an animal sanctuary made much money.
‘Mum’s got a tiny trust fund, and she makes a little from donations to the sanctuary. She bakes a lot of cakes and sells them for high prices which our rich neighbours are happy to pay because they are utterly gorgeous.’
Not as gorgeous as the mouth doing the talking now, Theseus thought, noticing the faraway look in her eyes as she spoke of the cakes and remembering the longing she’d shown towards the karidopita.