often brought up the story of Daedalus and Icarus as an example of the island’s legacy of compassion and acceptance.
‘I have always believed that this tale is one of the reasons why the angels favour this island . . .’ she said and gestured towards the sea. ‘I know they are here, I see them everywhere, and I often feel the boy’s presence.’
‘Did you know there is a monument to Icarus on the island?’ Sylvie turned to Calli.
‘Yes, I do . . . Is it far from here?’
‘Nothing is that far from here.’ Maya smiled. ‘I will drive you there on Friday, but not to the recently erected monument, beautiful as it might be, but to the ancient rock that stands in the sea on the exact spot where the boy fell.’
Calli gazed at the older woman, perplexed. How on earth could anyone know the exact spot where Icarus fell? Not to mention the fact that the story was a myth . . . But saying nothing, she put her logic and pragmatism to one side for once and allowed herself to be swept along by her new friend’s magical thinking.
‘Have you noticed all the rock formations on the land, Calli?’ Maya asked. ‘To me, each and every one looks like a monument and not only for that poor foolish boy. I will show you tomorrow.’
‘Be sure to be back in good time on Friday.’ Sylvie turned to them both. ‘I would like to come with you, but I promised Christian I’d spend the day with him, preparing for the evening. He is setting up the telescope on the beach.’
On Friday morning, the day of the eclipse, just as the sun was appearing above the line of the horizon, Maya picked up Calli in her yellow open-top Citroën 2CV and set off for the village of Vaoni, to visit the fated spot where Icarus had lost his wings. Equipped with her camera, notebook and swimsuit, Calli could hardly believe her luck. The most she had expected for this trip was to find a taxi driver who would be willing to drive her to some places on a budget, or to hire a small motorbike and find her own way around. Finding new friends who were not only willing but wanted to help her was not what she had anticipated.
‘Glad to see you didn’t forget to bring your bikini,’ Maya shouted cheerfully over the car engine as they chugged along the twisting country roads. ‘Every beach we’ll drive past you’ll want to dive into,’ she added, pointing towards an emerald cove just beneath them.
‘It’s wonderful to know that this ancient amphitheatre is still in use,’ Maya said when they arrived at their destination. ‘Can you imagine sitting here to watch a performance?’ She gestured to the semicircle of steps around them and then pointed out to the shimmering sea, towards the stone marking the spot where Icarus fell.
Calli stood mutely gazing at the rock. The sight of that monolith rising from the sea no more than fifty yards from where she was now standing made her head swirl and her vision blur. She had no warning of the impact this would have on her: the noise of the wind sighing through her ears, the hot sun beating down on her and the sunlight playing on the water, flickered like the wings of a thousand birds. She closed her eyes and stumbled back. Maya rushed to her aid; with her arm around her shoulders she led her to the steps of the amphitheatre. They sat together for a long while without words.
The older woman was the first to break the silence. ‘You have much pain in your heart, my friend.’ She reached for a bottle of water in her bag and handed it to Calli. ‘I sensed it from the moment I saw you . . .’ She hesitated. ‘You are grieving for your loss, I know, like the father of this wretched boy grieved for his loss, so long ago.’
The younger woman sat mutely with her eyes tightly shut. That rectangular column emerging from the sea had looked nothing less than a tombstone to her. A humble monument marking the death of a beloved child, any child whose life had been cut short. When she opened her eyes again, two large tears ran down her cheeks.
7
Calli wiped her tears with the back of her hand and turned in disbelief to look at Maya. She had never spoken about the loss of