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It was hot. Too hot. The dust of the road swirled around Louisa’s feet as she trudged along and the air was deadly still. The only sound was the incessant chirp of the crickets and, far off, the low thrum of Spiro’s car. She knew she shouldn’t be out in this weather, not after a long morning at the market. She should be lying in her dark, cool room, or out on the veranda under the vine with a gin.
It was Larry’s fault that she wasn’t.
She’d been all too ready to relax; duty done, money earned. But she’d rounded the corner of the house – quietly, thank god – and there had been yet another man sat at the table, laughing obnoxiously with Larry. It was the final straw. She’d downed baskets and fled, unwilling to spend another afternoon with Larry pushing a vilely unsuitable man onto her. He’d learned nothing from Creech and since Hugh had left the island he’d found suitor after suitor for her. Poetic, flowery, pallid Englishmen. Oddballs of all nationalities who’d washed up on Corfu’s forgiving shores. She’d loathed them all, protested that she wanted to enjoy her time without being pestered. But he persisted!
She wouldn’t humour him any more. She’d go home when the man, whoever he was, had left.
The road ahead shimmered with heat, and she wondered about detouring into the olive groves, heading down the hill and plunging into the water, lack of swimsuit be damned. But before she could take such drastic action, the purring of Spiro’s car grew louder and he pulled up next to her.
“Mrs Durrells!” he exclaimed, “What are you doing out in this heat?” He pushed open his passenger door and she climbed in gratefully. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but home,” she sighed, and wiped her hand across her sweaty brow.
“What is wrong?” He cast her a worried look as he got the car moving again.
Louisa leant back against the seat cushion and enjoyed the faint breeze. “Larry. He’s brought another man round.”
“Ah.” Spiro had heard plenty about the unsuitable men that Larry had dragged incessantly into Louisa’s life. “You don’t like him?”
“I didn’t stay to find out,” Louisa admitted. “Oh Spiro, why won’t he just let me be? I’m tired of this, I’m tired of it all! I like my life as it is. I don’t want to run around after a man.” Spiro tapped his fingers against his steering wheel in what might have been agreement. “What I need is a way to get Larry to stop.” She hummed thoughtfully.
“Any brainwaves?” Spiro asked after a moment, laughter tinging his voice.
She looked at him sidelong and then, inspiration coming finally, sat up. “He’d stop if he thought I’d found someone. Spiro – would you be that someone? To pretend to Larry, I mean? If he thinks we’re together he’ll stop finding all these awful men and we can just carry on as normal. Would you?”
There was a moment of silence and as Spiro stared at the road ahead, Louisa wondered if she was asking too much even of him. Then, finally, he smiled at her. “For you, yes. What would I need to do?”
“Nothing much. Come to dinner occasionally?”
He laughed. “I can manage that. Where shall we go now?”
“The kafenion? I could do with a drink.”
Spiro nodded. “Busy morning? And we can make a plan to save you from Larry’s plans.”
“You and… Spiro?” Larry’s eyebrows raised dramatically.
Louisa dished out dinner with hands that barely shook. “What’s so surprising? We’ve been good friends for a while now and we realised we wanted something more.”
“Well, I think it’s lovely,” Margo said firmly, “It’s lovely when he’s here and he’ll be here all the time now.”
“Well, he might not, dear,” Louisa said cautiously, “After all, he is very busy.”
“You’re good friends, in the right sort of way?” Larry darted a knowing look at Louisa and she spluttered.
“It’s – it’s early days, Larry.”
Larry raised a glass, “Here’s to the happy couple, then.”
“Hold my hand,” Louisa hissed at Spiro as he clambered out of his car.
“What?”
“We’re supposed to be – you know, oh come on.” She grabbed his hand, smiled at the odd familiarity of his fingers linked with hers.
“Ah, the happy couple,” Larry greeted them as they rounded the house to the veranda. “Spiro, welcome to the family.”
“It’s – ah –” Spiro said hopelessly, then gave up and took the wine glass that Larry proffered. “Gia mas!”
“I’m so happy that you’re going to be here all the time,” Margo said dreamily as Gerry passed out the dinner plates.
“Not all the time,” Spiro said as he slipped onto the bench behind the table.
“No, not all the time,” Louisa agreed. She sat down next to him, leaving a little gap between them, “After all, Spiro has a business to run.”
“Yes, I do. Otherwise, I will not be able to provide for myself.”
“Budge up, mummy,” Leslie said as he squeezed onto the bench next to her.
“Ah, sorry,” Louisa said as she found herself suddenly pressed against Spiro.
“It’s okay,” he said, with a funny little smile.
The evening seemed a magical one to Louisa. The sun set and the fireflies danced over the patio and into the bay and phosphorescence made the water shine. The family was unusually happy and when the gramophone was brought out she found herself being spun around the garden by her sons, laughing and giddy, ending up eventually in Spiro’s strong arms. She gasped as his arms circled her waist.
“For the pretend, yes?” he murmured as they swayed gently together.
“Yes,” she whispered, but for a moment as she laid her head against his chest and felt the steady beat of his heart, she wondered what it would be like if it wasn’t.
“How are things going with you and Spiro?” Larry asked a week or so later, “We haven’t seen much of him.”
“He has his own life, Larry!” Louisa said as she pummelled some dough into submission.
“Trouble in paradise?”
“What? No!” In truth, although Louisa had seen Spiro a few times in the week, even had a ride in the car, she felt unaccountably shy around him, hesitated to suggest he come round for dinner again.
“So I shouldn’t start looking…?” Larry raised an eyebrow.
“No!” Louisa almost shouted. “No, we’re fine. He’s coming for dinner tomorrow,” she invented hastily.
She was setting up her market stall when Spiro appeared.
“Mrs Durrells,” he said, with his ever-present smile, “This is looking good.”
“Do you think?” She pushed back the hair from her head with a floury hand and smiled shyly at him.
“You’ve been a stranger this week,” he said, suddenly quiet.
“Well, you know. Been busy,” she said vaguely. “How are you?”
“Better for seeing you.”
She stared at him for a moment, then remembered. “Would you come for dinner this evening? Larry is concerned that you haven’t been round.”
Spiro grinned. “Of course.”
“And – maybe,” she hesitated, “Maybe you could call me Louisa? Now we’re, you know, supposed to be dating.”
“Louisa.” Her name was soft on his lips and she swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. Then he nodded. “I will be around later. Louisa.”
Louisa felt oddly nervous as she got ready for dinner. The stew was bubbling away on the stove and she took herself upstairs to stare at her reflection, neaten her hair and dab a little red on her lips.
“Primping yourself?”
She jumped at the unexpected voice and turned to see Larry smirking at her in the doorway.
“Is it a crime to want to look nice?” she asked tartly and he shrugged.
“When’s Spiro due?”
“In a minute or two. Fetch some flowers for the table won’t you Larry?”
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and as she turned back to the mirror he slunk off down the corridor.
The family was sitting at the table under the verandah enjoying a pre-dinner drink when they heard Spiro’s car crunch up the drive, and then the door slammed and Spiro rounded the corner. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers that made the bunch that Larry had half-heartedly picked look even more meagre.
Louisa stood hastily to greet him. He handed over the flowers then took her hand, brushed a gentle kiss to her fingers and murmured, “Louisa.”
“Spiro,” she said, wondering at the sudden thrill that had run through her. “Come and sit down.”
She poured him a glass of ouzo then served the stew. The children ate with a lack of regard for their guest, arguing amongst themselves with their usual vim. Louisa tried in vain to make the meal somewhat more civilised but Margo shook her head, curls waving.
“It’s Spiro. He knows what we’re like, he’s already family.” And she carried on her argument with Les.
“She’s right, you know.” Spiro said with a grin.
“And yet you’re not put off?” Larry asked. “Despite knowing that Mother comes with these four vile encumbrances?”
“You’re not vile,” Louisa protested, “Just… just...”
“Odd?” Spiro suggested. “On Corfu, almost everybody is odd. That is why you fit in so well.”
Larry laughed. “Well, I am glad that you two finally came to your senses. Mother and Spiro, everybody! Gia mas!”
“Gia mas,” the others chorused.
“Thank you for doing this,” Louisa murmured to Spiro, a lot later as they stood by the wall and looked out over the quiet ocean.
“It is no problem to spend time with you,” Spiro said gently. “Do you think they believe it?”
“I think so,” Louisa said. “I hope so. It has been lovely not having to put with any of Larry’s suitors.”
“Good.”
“What do you think Larry meant about coming to our senses?” Louisa asked after a moment.
There was a pause. Spiro traced patterns idly on the top of the wall. “I don’t know,” he said eventually.
There was an odd note in his voice and Louisa looked at him curiously. But she leant against the wall, which was still warm, and decided not to worry about it. The evening was beautiful and it was so nice to be sharing it with a friend.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
Spiro turned and smiled down at her. “So am I.”
“You’re not a Victorian, you know, Mother,” Larry said over breakfast a few days later.
“Sorry?” Louisa said distractedly as she tried to save the loaf of bread she’d baked from Roger. “Not a Victorian? I am, you know.”
“Barely,” Larry said, waving his fork.
“And what on earth do you mean?” Louisa finally shooed Roger from the kitchen and sat down to take a welcome gulp of coffee.
“Spiro comes over here for dinner, you have a perfectly lovely evening, gaze at each other all soppily. And then he goes home. You need sex, Mother.”
“Larry!” Louisa hissed.
“Oh calm down, the kids aren’t here. And Gerry probably knows more about it than the rest of us. Look, you don’t want another Sven situation, do you? You need to find out if you’re compatible. In all ways.” Larry raised his eyebrows and wiggled them meaningfully.
Louisa blushed. “I can’t – he can’t stay here over night. It’s not proper!”
“Oh Mother. It’s Corfu and you’re English. Nobody will care.”
“I will care,” Louisa said primly.
“Well, have an afternoon in the olive groves then.”
“Larry!”
“It was just a suggestion,” Larry shrugged. “I’m off.” He grabbed another slice of bread from the table and strolled out of the door.
“Something is on your mind,” Spiro said as they drove down the winding road to the market, startling Louisa from her reverie.
“It’s.. something Larry said.” She hadn’t stopped thinking about it since he’d mentioned it. She’d found herself kneading her bread and daydreaming about what it might be like to wake up in Spiro’s arms. She’d imagined rolling over in bed and smiling at him, and then… and then…
“You ought to stay over after dinner tomorrow,” she said, the words escaping her before she could stop them.
Spiro drew the car to a swift halt, turned and stared at her. His lips moved but no sound came out.
Louisa took a breath. “It’s just – well, it’s been a while and Larry has noticed that you never stay and…”
“So I should stay,” Spiro said. “I can sleep on the floor.”
“Would it be very scandalous?”
“Apart from your family, who would know?” Spiro said with a shrug. “And you are English. The English may do what they like.”
“Within reason,” Louisa said, remembering the accusation of stolen turkeys. “So, you don’t mind?”
Spiro smiled a curious crooked smile. “No, I don’t mind. And I will get a Durrells breakfast out of it.”
“A feast,” Louisa promised. As she stared at Spiro she was suddenly seized by how handsome he looked, with the crinkles at the edge of his eyes and his smile and the way the light glinted in his hair. She stretched out a hand to him and he took it, his large, calloused hand holding hers so gently.
“Louisa?” he said softly, and his thumb brushed the back of her hand.
“Spiro,” she said, lost for words. Then the tinkling and clanging of goat bells heralded the imminent arrival of the flock and he grimaced.
“Better get going,” he said, and, releasing her carefully, put the car into gear and pulled away.
As they drove down to the town, Louisa stared out at the view and tried not to think about just how safe, how loved, she’d felt when he held her hand. It was all a pretence, after all.
“You’re jittery,” Larry remarked as she fretted over the dinner table. “Tonight the night then?”
“I am not discussing this with you,” Louisa said firmly. “Be helpful or go away.”
Larry grabbed an orange, winked and disappeared upstairs.
The moment she heard Spiro’s car she ran to meet him. “I brought a bag,” Spiro said uncertainly as he climbed out of the car.
Louisa gulped down the nerves that fluttered in her stomach. “Let me take it.”
He passed it to her and then caught her free hand, twined their fingers together. “There we go. We are a happy couple, aren’t we?”
Louisa laughed. “So we are. Never an argument.”
Spiro stopped and looked at her seriously. “Should we have one? What could we argue about?”
“Do you have any objectionable habits? Leave your socks on the floor?”
“I could tomorrow. You could tell me off about it.”
“I don’t think that’ll set the tone that will be expected after you spend the night,” she said with a grin.
“Maybe not,” he agreed, then pulled her forward, “Come on Louisa, time to face the hordes.”
Spiro round for dinner was completely normal now, and as Louisa gazed around the table, at the happy and bright faces of her children and Spiro, smiling at something that Gerry was telling him, she wished suddenly that it was true, that Spiro was her lover, that they were all one happy family.
He looked across at her and their eyes held. The look in his eyes was so tender and with a rush of realisation she knew that she loved him.
“Okay?” he mouthed.
Tears pricked her eyes, and she nodded.
After dinner the children dispersed and Louisa led Spiro out to the verandah, then wandered to the wall to stare out over the water, which glistened in starlight.
Spiro followed her. “I can go home,” he murmured. “I don’t have to stay to prove something to Larry.”
“He’s got a point,” Louisa said, “We’ve been doing this for weeks now and if it was real then...” she trailed off.
“Then?” he prompted.
“It would have happened before now,” she admitted. She risked a look up at him. “Does that shock you?”
He chuckled. “No, Louisa.”
The way he said her name was beginning to send thrills through her. “Well then. Shall we retire?” The children weren’t there to see but she offered him her hand anyway and he took it.
“Lead on.”
It had been a long, long time since anybody but the children had seen in her in her nightgown and if it had been anybody but Spiro in her room she would have felt awkward and uncertain.
“I met Leslie in the kitchen,” Spiro said as he returned from the lavatory and shut the bedroom door behind him.
Louisa sat in her bed, hugging her legs, let herself look at Spiro briefly, noting his vest and shorts and the odd whiteness of his thighs before she looked away. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t look happy.” Spiro admitted.
“That’s Leslie,” Louisa sighed.
“Then I met Larry in the corridor.” Spiro’s voice was bright with laughter. “He shook my hand and told me to make it a good night.”
“That boy!” Louisa exclaimed indignantly.
Spiro sat down on the edge of the bed and grinned at her as it squeaked slightly under his weight. “I had an idea.”
The bed squeaked a lot, and very loudly.
“I’m not sure I can keep this up,” Louisa gasped, but then there was a thud of a door being slammed and Spiro laughed.
“Not much longer.”
“Will you please stop!” Leslie shouted down the corridor. “I don’t need to hear this!”
“Oh let them be!” Larry shouted from the other end. “Mother never has any fun.”
“I’m sleeping outside!” Leslie roared.
They heard him thump downstairs and slam the front door behind him, and then Louisa collapsed into Spiro’s arms, shaking with laughter. “Now that was fun,” she said as she wiped her eyes.
“I’m glad your bed survived our antics,” he said. Louisa held her breath as he smoothed her messy hair, tucked a curl behind her ear. “Time for sleep now, I think. I’ll put my blankets on the floor.”
He stood up and she grabbed his hand. “There’s plenty of room for two here,” she said.
“You don’t mind?”
“I don’t. Do you?”
There was a second, as he looked at her, that she thought he was going to object, but then he squeezed her hand. “Okay. I will share with you.”
She moved over to make room for him and he slipped in beside her, their legs brushing for one heart stopping moment.
“Just kick me if I snore,” he said, and she laughed. Then he leant over, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Louisa.” He turned away from her and pulled the sheet over himself.
“Goodnight, Spiro,” she whispered. Her hand floated towards his shoulder, wanting to touch him one more time, but then she pulled back, turned onto her side, and let herself relax into sleep.
She woke slowly in the morning with the comforting weight of an arm slung over her waist. At some point in the night she and Spiro had moved towards each other and now his head was buried in the pillow at her shoulder. She twirled her fingers through his thick hair, feeling the coarseness of the black strands, noting the odd white streaks running through it.
“Mmm,” he murmured, and then he raised his head with a jerk. “Louisa – I...”
“Shhh,” she whispered. She carried on carding through his hair and he lay back down, his eyes fixed on hers. She felt like this was the very edge of something, the very beginning of something, and her heart thrummed.
“Spiro,” she said eventually, tones soft in the quiet morning, “If I kissed you…?”
His fingers tightened on her waist. “Try it,” he said hoarsely.
She barely had to move at all, they were lying so close. Just leant forward slightly and then his lips were warm against hers. He pulled her tight against him as she kissed him, arms wound around her back.
“Spiro,” she murmured against his mouth. “Oh, Spiro.” She drew back a little and laughed shakily.
Spiro looked as though all his dreams had come true. “Louisa,” he said, and let go of her so he could cup her cheek. She leant into his touch, let her eyes shut as he stroked his thumb gently over her cheekbones, along her jaw. “What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.
“I think I love you,” she said, and he kissed her again.
“I know I love you.” It was his turn to stoke her hair and she sighed at the feeling of gentle fingers working their way through her curls. “I have loved you for years.” His hand left her hair, trailed slowly, down her neck, along her bare collarbones, down her arm until he held her hand. “My Louisa.”
“It’s about time!” Larry said as they appeared, hand in hand, in the kitchen.
“Larry...” Spiro raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”
“It’s taken you all these weeks of pretending to be together to finally realise you’re in love.”
“You – you knew?” Louisa sat down with a thump at the table, but Spiro stood behind her, rested his hands gently on her shoulders, and she looked up at him with a smile.
“Of course I knew, Mother. Why do you think I’ve been meddling so much? Now, are you going to go and find that olive grove or just go back to bed?”
Spiro pressed a kiss to Louisa’s head. “A drive?” he suggested.
“A wonderful idea,” she said, and he kissed her on the nose, startling a laugh from her.
“Wait!” Larry called as Louisa and Spiro left the house, hand in hand. “What about breakfast? And lunch?!”
“Fend for yourself,” Louisa said, and turned to grin at Spiro. “I have better things to be doing.”