Claudia's Big Break (6 page)

‘I know you would have, but I want to do the right thing by him. Besides, he specifically told me that the papers need to be signed in my presence.'

Tara eyeballed me. ‘I know he's like the third richest guy in Queensland, but seriously, does Marcus do this for all his staff?'

‘No, and that's why I don't want to let him down,' I said quickly. ‘He could have done this job himself, and then where would we be?'

‘Brisbane,' Sophie chimed in.

‘Exactly! And he knows all about the mess I got into with George. Thankfully, he's too busy to leave the office so is doing me a favour because he's a nice bloke.'

‘I guess.'

‘Besides, all I have to do is watch while some guy signs a piece of paper and collects a memory stick. It shouldn't be this hard.'

Although I hadn't told Tara and Sophie about my liaison with Marcus, I got the distinct impression Tara was suspicious. Marcus would have told me I was being paranoid, so I tried not to dwell on it and busied myself pushing a spoon of yogurt and honey towards Sophie's mouth.

She pushed me away and continued chopping Levi's banana while he gargled orange juice. ‘I expected a call from Alex by now. You'd think he'd at least want to talk to Levi.'

Levi coughed and spurted his juice across the table. I moved away from him under the guise of helping myself to more honey.

‘I'm sure he's just busy. He'll ring when he can.'

Sophie bit her top lip and mopped up Levi's mess. ‘Alex is always too busy. Never too busy for Jake though.'

‘I lub Jake,' said Levi.

Sophie shrugged and turned to me. ‘Don't know why, all he does is grunt and eat.'

True. I'd been in Jake's company a few times and the kid did show a distinct distaste for words. Sophie had tried being his friend. After all, she'd known him since he was little. But the two had never taken a shine to each other. I guess it was just one of those things.

‘How about I read your Angel cards?' I offered. ‘See what the Goddess Oracle has in store for us?'

‘You've got to be kidding,' said Tara, looking up from her map of Athens and shaking her head in disbelief. ‘You brought those things with you?'

‘Sure did.' I never travelled anywhere without my Angel cards; you never knew you might need a little guidance or direction. True, they hadn't guided me away from stuffing up my life, but I didn't want to think about that right now. I pulled the cards from my bag, released them from their purple satin sack and patted them. ‘We'll stick with the three-card read, hey?'

‘How about I read your cards first, Claud?' said Tara.

‘Sure, I don't mind.' But secretly, I did. I felt the Goddess wasn't backing me at the moment. I shuffled, picked out three cards and laid them on the breakfast table. Tara looked at the angels and fumbled with the instruction book before squealing.

‘The Angel of Death!'

‘That's bad,' Sophie said, twitching uncomfortably and twirling her ringlets.

‘Can't be good, can it? Let me read,' continued Tara. ‘Says here that choosing this particular angel could represent a preoccupation with death.'

I knew the angels weren't on my side today. I should have listened to my own inner goddess, the one that minutes before had shouted at me not to choose any of them.

I looked at the cards again and grabbed the book from Tara. ‘Here. Give me a look at that!' After reading and rereading several interpretations, I came to my own conclusion. ‘Look, fool. It doesn't necessarily mean death as in dead. It says, “This angel may also represent the end of a particular cycle or way of life.” And as I'm just about to turn thirty-nine and will be job-hunting when I get back home, I think this reading might be very accurate.'

‘Jeez, you can put a positive spin on anything,' Tara said. ‘Anyway, why will you be job-hunting, especially after Marcus has been so generous?'

‘I need a change. You know me. I don't stick with things long.'

‘You haven't convinced me,' said Sophie. ‘I wouldn't be happy with death being thrown at me.'

‘I was put off by Tara telling me she wanted to read my cards. I didn't get a good shuffle in,' I said, looking at Tara who was smirking into her coffee. ‘It's not a game, you know. It's not for laughs. You have to respect the angels. Appreciate the messages the universe is sending you.'

Who was I kidding? I was jumping from one landmine to the next.

‘Okay, okay,' said Tara. ‘You may as well read mine. Can't be any worse than a tap on the shoulder from death.' She picked up the cards and shuffled.

I swished my hands dramatically in the air while Tara laid her three cards on the dining table.

I studied them before consulting my guidebook. ‘“From now on things are going to be different. At first, you may only notice subtle changes. Forget the past. It's really over. The future is looking rather wonderful.”'

‘I ask you,' said Tara, spluttering dry toast crumbs over the cards. ‘What the hell does that mean? “The past is over.” A truly earth-shattering revelation there.'

To placate her, I scanned the book for more information. There wasn't any.

‘I'm more annoyed with myself than you, Claud,' Tara sniffed. ‘Please don't read for me ever again. I get so worked up, I could scream.'

Sophie picked up the cards, shuffled, and placed three on the table. ‘Do mine. Hopefully, the angels will tell me how I should be living my futile life.'

Tara yawned. ‘If your life's futile, there's no hope for the rest of us.'

I eyed Sophie's pink Pucci-inspired Maxi and the Tiffany rock sitting on her perfectly manicured ring finger and held my tongue.

‘There you go,' I said, after examining her cards. ‘“Be careful today, you are attaching too much importance to something that is ultimately irrelevant.”'

‘Please explain?' Tara said, glaring at me while Sophie chewed her bottom lip.

‘It means that although I'll die in the next couple of days, ultimately it won't matter to Soph. And with me out of your life, Tara, you'll have your house back and your future will be rosy. There. That make you happy?'

Sophie smiled. ‘Interesting.'

‘I do believe I'm feeling better already,' said Tara.

‘Yeah, well while we're waiting for me to die, let's hit the Athenian sights, for tomorrow we fly to Santorini,' I said, dismissing the angel talk with a clap of my hands.

We walked and walked. Three women (one with a bung knee) and a cranky child in a worn red Bugaboo Bee stroller.

‘He looks preposterous,' Tara said, pointing to Levi in the straining stroller. ‘He can't be comfortable. He's all squashed and his legs are buckling.'

Sophie glared at her. ‘Do
you
want to carry him around all day?'

In the sweltering heat and humidity we strolled through the Plaka towards the Acropolis, distracted every couple of metres by the vast variety of souvenir shops selling everything from plastic replicas of Greek icons like the Parthenon, to T-shirts and jewellery. Our surroundings were colourful, frenzied and loud. I especially enjoyed watching moped-riding locals darting in between tourists along the cobbled alleyways.

Shopping. I couldn't help myself. Once I started buying presents for friends, I couldn't stop. How could I resist when there were so many kitsch icons to purchase?

‘Hey,' said Tara, dragging me away from a fascinating street stall selling bronze statues of Zeus, Poseidon and Eros. ‘You've bought enough trinkets.'

‘But they're bargains. It'd be a crime not to buy a few more.' Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a marble Zeus paperweight. ‘Marcus would love that,' I started — because he collected paperweights, not because I was thinking of him.

‘Marcus?' said Tara. ‘Why would you buy him a present?'

‘Hello! He's the one who made this holiday possible.'

Reluctantly, I walked over to Sophie, who'd been taken in by a street vendor enthusiastically offering her his ‘best price' for nuts, strawberries and coconut sticks. She handed over several worn Euros, then saw her purchases for half the price three stalls along.

Twenty metres down the road, Tara succumbed to an outrageously overpriced battery-operated ornament — a dancing Last Supper. ‘Mum would have a fit,' she smirked. And I didn't feel so bad about all my impulse buys.

Armed with bottled water, trinkets, T-shirts and enough nuts and strawberries to last several lifetimes, we made it to the Acropolis. I glanced at the others as we staggered through the grand entrance of the Propylaia and along the dusty winding path leading to the Parthenon and Acropolis Museum. Even though we were hot and sticky with perspiration trickling down our backs and legs, the three of us were grinning. We'd made it! It was a complete travesty that the Acropolis wasn't one of the Seven Wonders of World.

Despite the damage, scaffolding and pollution, the visual impact of the entire area was breathtaking. I was standing in front of the Erecthion — the most sacred site of the Acropolis — where Poseidon and Athena had their contest over who would be patron of Athens. Breathing deeply, I allowed my mind to drift back in time to when this place had been the centre of Greek culture and religion. I found it fascinating and almost unbelievable that these structures still existed thousands of years later. It made my almost thirty-nine years on Earth seem insignificant. Tara, Sophie and I would have been happy to sit and stare for ages, but unfortunately Levi had other ideas. He'd been trapped in his undersized stroller too long.

‘Please stay where I can see you, Leev,' Sophie said, unbuckling him, and he promptly ran off and disappeared behind a caryatid. Sophie stood up, mumbled something about filling out a Prozac prescription, and set off to find him.

Even with sightseers dotting the hill, the Acropolis didn't feel overcrowded. People kept to their own space, which is more than could be said for the roaming cats.

‘How do they manage to survive up here?' I wondered out loud.

‘I guess people like us throw them scraps of food and they live on that,' said Tara.

‘But it's so dusty and hot. See that one.' I pointed to a black and white moggy, only just out of reach.

As Tara turned to look, the cat pounced on an unsuspecting pigeon and attacked the bird with such force we heard the pigeon's neck snap. It was over within seconds. Then we watched as the cat dragged the dead bird to his hideout somewhere underneath layers of ancient sandstone. Within moments dozens of cats appeared as if from nowhere, presumably to fight over the remains.

‘So that's why the cats around here look so healthy,' Tara said. ‘Pigeon parties.'

‘The Angel of Death,' I said. ‘Spooky.'

‘Coincidence, more like it.'

I stood still, watching and listening, as nearby tourists gathered in clusters taking holiday snaps. Photo after photo featured smiling couples and groups standing in front of the Erecthion, the Parthenon and temples such as Nike Athena.

Instead of focusing on the famous buildings, I nervously began side-stepping camera-weilding tourists. It seemed every time I turned around, someone was snapping and I'd inadvertently get in their way. I guess it was inevitable I'd end up in a stranger's happy snaps but I felt uncomfortable about being immortalised in someone's photo album, or worse, their Facebook homepage.

6

‘I
hate these little planes,' said Sophie, holding on tight to Levi's arm as the plane took off for Santorini.

‘I'll second that,' I said, digging my nails into the armrest. I peered out the window as the plane accelerated into the wind and lurched from side to side. My stomach heaved, so clearly that wasn't a good idea. I closed my eyes. The uneasy feeling I'd been aware of yesterday at the Acropolis had stayed with me. Maybe it was the Angel cards or the cat and the pigeon — whatever it was, I felt weirdly uncomfortable. I'd been so looking forward to exploring the Acropolis but after the slaughter, I became aware of hundreds of people hanging around taking photos, speaking in foreign languages and pointing.

I got to thinking about Con. We were on a plane to Santorini and I still hadn't heard from him. I wouldn't relax until I had his signature as Marcus had instructed. It was supposed to have been a simple exchange in Athens. I didn't relish having to hang around waiting for him in Santorini. Then I thought about Marcus. Was he missing me?

‘My God! Bumpy, isn't it?' shouted Tara, as the plane unexpectedly hit an air pocket, flinging Levi's crayons into the air.

‘Close your eyes and try not to think about it,' I said, as much to myself as to Tara.

‘Mummy, I'm being sick now.'

True to his word, Levi promptly vomited all over his tray table and most of Winnie, Tigger and Eeyore. For the next fifteen minutes, the flight attendants really earned their pay. Even after Levi had been cleaned up and his toys rinsed and bundled into a plastic bag, the stench remained.

I'd been intrigued and fascinated by Greece for years. It had been a dream destination for as long as I could remember. At university, I'd been struck by Greece's mythical nature, the beauty of the Aegean Sea, and the teachings of Plato and Socrates. But despite all I'd learnt about ancient Greece, my knowledge of Santorini was vague. I had intended to use the flying time to swot up on Santorini, but the plane was swaying too wildly to read, and the vomiting incident had left me feeling a little nauseous myself. I knew it was a beautiful island with white homes dotting rugged cliffs. And that it was one of the two thousand islands stretching from the Ionian Sea in the west to the Aegean Sea in the east (I happened to glance at half a page of Greek propaganda as we boarded the plane), but aside from that, I hadn't done a lot of research.

I'd seen
Captain Corelli's Mandolin
(Nicolas Cage is one of my favourite actors) so was familiar with Kefallonia, or as familiar as you can be after watching a ninety-minute Hollywood movie. And of course I'd seen the musical
Mamma Mia
too many times to count
.
I also knew Ios was the party island because my younger sister, Sarah Sunbeam, had shown me photos as proof. But Santorini? Everyone said it was the bride of the Cyclades.