The Holiday (55 page)

Though she was desperate for rest, Izzy found the corridor outside Mark’s room too noisy for her to sleep. There was a constant squeak of shoes on the polished floor, a steady hum of voices, a persistent ringing of telephones. Giving up on the idea of snatching a nap while he slept, she went to look at the cards and flowers grouped together on the table at the end of his bed. His parents and brothers had been the first to get in touch after Theo had called them to explain what had happened. They had then phoned Mark to make sure he really was okay, as had his agent and publisher who had read of the incident in the papers back home. Max and Laura had visited several times, bringing with them newspapers and chocolates, neither of which he had so much as glanced at. The largest bunch of flowers, and easily the most ostentatious, was from Dolly-Babe and Silent Bob. Their card wished him a speedy recovery and contained a postscript of their home address - they had left for England yesterday morning - ‘Just in case you’re ever passing our way,’ Dolly-Babe had scribbled.

‘About as likely as me being left alone in this hell-hole,’ had been Mark’s muttered response, when he had read it.

 

As the days progressed, Izzy grew concerned. Far from making a steady recovery as they had been told he would, Mark seemed to be slipping into a decline. The doctor said he thought Mark was depressed.

‘It’s as if he’s given up,’ the doctor told her and Theo, ‘as though he doesn’t care one way or the other if he gets better.’

‘Would it help if he was discharged and nursed where he felt more relaxed?’ asked Theo.

The doctor shook his head. ‘No. He’s not to be moved. Not yet. Not until I’m happy with his mental state.’

A little over a week after he had been admitted, Mark told Izzy that he thought it would be better if she stopped coming to see him.

She was devastated, and felt as though the air had been knocked out of her. ‘But why? What have I done?’ She had to steady herself against the back of a chair.

He looked straight at her and, with not an ounce of emotion in his voice or expression, he said, ‘Let’s face it, Izzy, it was never going to work between us. It was nothing more than a holiday fling with a few extra excitements on the side. It’s over. Please don’t make a drama of it. I’m tired, I’d like to sleep now. To be left alone.’

Mark watched her go for the last time, turned his head into the pillow and buried it as far as it would go.

 

Early next morning he had a visitor.

A furious visitor.

Theo.

He marched in and, for a good five minutes, ranted and raved at Mark. Then he paced the room and ranted some more, resorting to his native tongue when he ran out of English. The attack was as thorough as it was vociferous.

‘Have you quite finished?’ Mark asked him, when at last the room fell quiet.

But clearly Theo hadn’t. ‘Do you have any idea what you have done to that poor girl?’ he demanded. ‘She is distraught with what you have told her. Inconsolable.’

‘She’ll get over it.’ He made his voice sound far away, distant, uncaring. Just as he had yesterday with Izzy, when he had hoped that the carefully added note of irritation in his final words would hasten her departure and bring about an end to the pain of seeing the heart-shattering destruction he was wreaking. Outwardly he might have given a convincing performance of indifference, but inwardly he had been a broken man. He had never felt so sure about a decision, yet so hurt by it.

Theo wheeled round on him, glared angrily. ‘I doubt that. She feels more for you than anyone else ever will.’

‘Maybe now she does, but when she gets back to England she’ll put this summer behind her. Put it down to experience and think of it as an interesting holiday romance.’

‘And will you? Will you return to your sad, lonely little world and imagine that she didn’t storm the castle to reach your heart and touch you in some beautiful, lasting way?’

‘Don’t start getting sentimental on me, Theo. Keep the purple prose for some other mug who’ll listen.’

‘I would rather be sentimental than afraid to grab the chance of enjoying the life I was meant to live.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t possess your giddy, optimistic approach. For some of us, the real world can only ever be a disappointment.’

As though he had used up all his anger, Theo came and sat in the chair next to the bed. He leaned forward, his hands clasped between his legs. ‘Just explain to me why. What has changed your feelings for her?’

Mark had known that it would come to this, that he would have to give Theo a reasonable explanation. An act of cold indifference was never going to satisfy him. ‘I have to end it, Theo,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m not doing this out of self-interest. I’m doing this for Izzy. Surely you can see that. Everything I touch I either spoil or destroy. Izzy was very nearly killed because of me. I simply won’t let myself put her at risk again.’

Theo stared at him in astonishment. ‘But, Mark, that is nonsense. It is irrational beyond belief. You do not spoil everything you come in contact with. Far from it.’

‘Really? What about Niall, and his parents? All three of them dead at the last count. And what about the pain I caused my family? And even you, days after meeting me you wind up mugged.’

‘And what of all the good things that have occurred because of you, eh? Any other man would be satisfied with saving just the one life, but no, you have to score a hat-trick of saving three: mine, Sally’s and Izzy’s. A super-human feat, a record to be proud of, perhaps.’

‘Well, you know what Scott Fitzgerald said: “Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy.” Now please, Theo, don’t make this any harder for me. Tell Izzy whatever you think will make her feel better, but don’t waste your breath trying to make me change my mind. It won’t work.’

The holiday was over.

Despite what Max and Laura thought.

They were keen for Izzy to stay on for another week, to leave when they did. But she had told them several times already that it would be better if she went home as originally arranged. ‘You deserve to have some time alone before you have to go back as well,’ she said now, as they tried once again to dissuade her from going.

‘Just a few more days,’ Laura implored, passing her a plate. ‘It would do you good.’

Izzy settled the plate on the table in front of her. ‘But my flight’s booked,’ she said wearily. She was tired of having to defend her decision.

‘And can be changed just like that,’ said Max, snapping his thumb and middle finger together. ‘Really, Izzy, we don’t want you to leave, not yet. Not like this. It’s too soon after everything that’s happened.’

‘Max is right,’ Theo joined in. ‘It’s much too soon.’

‘It’s nearly a fortnight. And, anyway, school starts next week. I have to go home. There are things I have to organise.’

Nobody said anything more, and in the silence Izzy watched Theo open the box of pastries he had brought with him, his fingers working at the knot in the ribbon, his brow furrowed. Wretchedness was making her irritable and impatient, and she suddenly wanted to snatch the box out of his hands and slash at the ribbon with a pair of scissors.

Since the night of the shooting, and when he hadn’t been at the hospital visiting Mark, Theo had spent even more of his time at Villa Petros. It was as if he had formed a pact with Max and Laura, as though the three of them couldn’t get through a single day without a conversation about the shooting, as if one more conversation would exorcise the painful memories. She couldn’t bring herself to tell them that she didn’t want to keep going over the same well-trodden ground. She didn’t want to be reminded of how lucky she was to be alive, not when she felt so numb and miserable. For that reason alone, she needed to get away. She was banking on going home to get back to normality. To put the summer behind her.

To put Mark behind her.

But she knew that would never happen. She would never forget him. They might not have known one another for very long, but the distance she and Mark had covered together was greater and more meaningful than anything else she had known. She had trusted him completely ... had given herself, heart, body and soul, to him.

Theo had explained to her what lay behind Mark’s apparent dismissal, and while it didn’t change matters, it at least gave her the reason why he had suddenly, and inexplicably, rejected her. As Theo had been at pains to point out, Mark’s reasoning might be irrational and misguided, but it meant that she could accept that there wasn’t anything more she could have done. Unlike her break-up with Alan, Mark hadn’t left her feeling humiliated and used, or guilty.

And wasn’t this exactly what Laura had wanted for her? A holiday fling to prove to herself that she was up for a bit of fun with no strings attached? No broken hearts. No recriminations. Only a wonderful sense of empowerment.

But it wasn’t that simple.

Her heart was hanging in there by the sheerest of threads. Which was why everybody was treating her so carefully. They had turned her into a fragile ornament that they weren’t quite sure where to place for the best. She loved them for their kindness, but wished they would stop. A little rough handling would be so much better. A rap on the knuckles and a stern word or two telling her to pull herself together would be easier to cope with. Her mother’s uncaring approach would be perfect.
So, he had his fun and dumped you, did he? I warned you. You’ve only yourself to blame. How very foolish you’ve been. Here, make yourself useful and dry the dishes.
Modern Woman would help too. She would stand with her hands on her hips:
Hey, lighten up, sister, and count yourself lucky you got out while you still could. He was always going to be trouble.

As they sat on the terrace enjoying the late-afternoon sun, Izzy sensed the conversation bouncing over and around the only subject she was interested in.

Mark.

How was he?

Had his depression lifted?

Had he asked after her?

Did he, like her, lie awake at night reliving those days they had spent together?

He had been discharged from the hospital at the weekend and Theo had come to see Izzy the morning after, just as he had promised he would. ‘He is better for being with me,’ he had told her, ‘but only because he is more comfortable cursing my interference and ineptitude than that of a pretty young nurse.’

‘He will be all right, though, won’t he?’

‘Don’t worry, Izzy, I will see to it that he makes a full recovery. As to the confused workings of his mind, which is governing his heart, well, that I cannot speak for. I wish it were different. Truly I do. I had such high hopes for you both.’

‘So did I,’ she murmured ...

Now unable to wait another moment to ask the question she most wanted answered, she interrupted Theo, who was telling Max and Laura some story about Angelos over-watering his flowers. ‘How’s Mark?’ she said. Instantly three wary faces stared back at her. If I were a grief-stricken widow, this is how they would treat me, she thought. ‘How is he?’ she repeated.

Theo put down the pastry he was eating. He licked the crumbs from his fingers. ‘He is getting stronger. Putting on a little weight also.’

‘Is he writing?’

‘In the morning, yes, for a couple of hours. But by the afternoon he is too tired, which, as you can imagine, frustrates him. Not to put too fine a point on it, he is a raging pain by about three o’clock. I have to go back to Athens the day after tomorrow, so I am taking him with me. I hope the change of scenery may do him good. If not, I will put him on the first available plane for England and let him fend for himself.’

‘No, you won’t.’ Laura smiled. ‘You’re too kind-hearted to do that.’

He sighed. ‘Maybe that’s true, but I swear he is testing my patience to its outer limits.’ Then changing the subject, he said, ‘How quiet it is going to be for you and Max with us all gone. It might even feel like a proper holiday for you.’ He picked up the remains of his cake and smiled one of his charming but infinitely roguish smiles. ‘But promise me you will rest your legs during this pregnancy, Laura. I don’t want to see you next summer with varicose veins.’

Both Max and Laura laughed at his irrepressible warmth and good humour.

This is how I must try and remember my holiday, Izzy thought, as she made herself join in with the laughter; a happy and carefree time.

 

Early next morning, as arranged, Theo came to take Izzy to the airport. ‘I have business in town to attend to,’ he had told Max yesterday, ‘so I might as well save you the journey.’

The goodbyes were as tearful as Izzy had dreaded. Although she knew she would be seeing her friends in a week’s time, it felt so final. This really was the end of a magical dream. Even if she came back again - and everybody said she must - it could never be the same.

The airport was horribly crowded with hundreds of holidaymakers queuing to check in their luggage. Theo waited with her and she was conscious of people staring at him as though they thought they should recognise him. Dressed in one of his immaculate lightweight suits with a pale blue shirt and tie, and dark glasses, there was a flamboyant film-star quality about him. She thought back to the first time she had met him and how like George Clooney she had thought he was. ‘Do you get this trouble wherever you go?’ she asked, after a woman had stopped her trolley to have a better look at him.

He lowered his sunglasses and smiled. ‘It’s you they are staring at, not me.’

‘Mm ... they’re probably wondering what I’m doing with such a gorgeous man.’

He laughed. And laughed loudly. ‘My God, Izzy. At last, you have paid me a compliment. I have waited all summer to hear you say something pleasant about me. No, no, don’t start crying. Not here, or people will get entirely the wrong idea.’

‘Am I allowed to shed a tear now?’ she asked, when she had checked in her luggage and had joined the queue to go through passport control.