One Summer in Crete - Nadia Marks Page 0,33

but loving, too.’

‘Tell me more about the people,’ Paolo said, rolling onto his side too, their faces so close their noses were almost touching. He moved even closer and gently kissed the tip of her nose. ‘I shall miss you, tesoro,’ he said, his voice a whisper.

‘I will miss you too,’ she replied and meant it. What she felt for Paolo was great tenderness and more. In the past, when she had fallen in love, sex would inevitably follow and when sex came into the mix her feelings would become charged: more anxious, a little insecure and unsettled. But with Paolo, what followed after making love with him and what she sensed at that moment was a tranquil affection, of a kind that comes with untainted friendship. She could not remember ever having such relaxed and tender emotions for someone that she had been sexually involved with. He, she decided, had been sent to her not only to help her heal but to show her another way. She looked at Paolo’s face and tried to take a mental photograph, to imprint his features in her memory one by one so that at some point in the future, wherever she might be, she would be able to recall them and this moment.

‘I feel that our paths will always cross, our friendship will last,’ he said as if in agreement, as if he guessed her thoughts, and pulled her to him. They made love on the smooth white rock surrounded by the blue Ikarian sea to the sound of the seagulls circling above them and the breaking waves around them.

‘So, tell me about the people in your grandmother’s village?’ he asked again afterwards as they lay sleepily in each other’s arms, heat emanating from the rock, limbs heavy from their love-making.

‘There are many relatives . . . you know how it is, you are Italian!’ she laughed. ‘But most of the old ones have gone now . . . my grandmother was the head of the family.’

‘Yes, my nonna too,’ Paolo said, ‘from my mother’s side, she was a wonderful wise woman; she died when I was seventeen.’

‘I was almost twelve when mine went,’ Calli mused.

‘What about cousins, do you have cousins?’

‘Yeah, plenty of those too.’ She smiled with the memory of their multitude. ‘My brother and I used to play with some of them when we were young, but I haven’t seen any of them for ages.’

‘I know,’ Paolo let out a sigh. ‘My family live in Villafranca di Verona. It’s really close to Verona, but I don’t go as often as I should; always too busy, always travelling . . .’

‘It’s my auntie, my mother’s sister, I feel guilty about,’ Calli said as she stretched her arms above her head. ‘She is getting old and all alone and now she is not well. I haven’t seen her in years.’

‘It is good that you will make the journey then,’ Paolo said and reached across to stroke her hair.

The days that followed, before everyone departed from Ikaria, were as celebratory as the ‘blood moon’ festivities had been when she first arrived. Each evening’s gathering on the beach became a boisterous party with food, drink and music and promises always to keep in touch. Calli would be the first to leave, now that she had made new travelling arrangements. Although she was excited about the second part of her journey, she was also sad that this surprising voyage of hers had come to an end.

‘You are heading towards a new adventure, my friend,’ Maya told her as they sat with Sylvie and some others on the beach the night before she left. ‘You are going to the place where Icarus and his father started their journey. The Ikarian myth does not end here . . . it follows you.’

‘I’ll miss you, dear Calli,’ Sylvie said. ‘Meeting you has been such a pleasure. You must come and see us. Berlin is not Ikaria, but it’s a wonderful city.’

‘No need for heavy hearts, my friends,’ Maya told them both, ‘we shall all meet again soon . . . I know!’ Calli turned to look at her and, as always, wondered what it was that this extraordinary woman professed she knew. ‘We will all be visiting you in Crete before too long,’ Maya continued with a beaming smile, ‘by next spring we will all be together again, I am sure of it.’

‘Count me in!’ Sylvie said and clapped her hands. ‘I’ve always wanted to visit Crete.’

‘OK

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