Lisa droned on, her caustic diatribe buzzing around Ellie’s head like bees on the attack. She wished Lisa would give it a rest. This weekly Katlyn bashing was tedious.

“I’m so sick of her trying to make me feel inadequate because I don’t work. Her and her stupid job. She’s so bloody pompous. I’m surprised her husband hasn’t left her. She hasn’t got kids. She doesn’t know how —”

“Now you’re being unfair.” Ellie’s patience withered. “You know she wanted them. Give the woman a break. She isn’t all bad once you get to know her.”

“That’s what they said about Hitler,” Tina added her barbed two cents. “All her reps hate her and can you blame them? She runs that office like a Gulag.”

Surprised her ditzy friend knew what a Gulag was, Ellie suppressed a titter. True, Katlyn did possess all the finesse of Miss Trunchbull on steroids.

“Personally,” Tina helped herself to another slice of Ellie’s famed cheese-cake, “I think it’s a blessing she doesn’t have kids. For sure they’d need therapy by the time they reached adolescence. Text-book Jerry Springer material, I imagine.”

“Really?” Ellie feigned shock at the resident ‘Born Again’ in their group. “Is this what they’re preaching in church these days? No wonder God’s numbers are down. Such compassion and understanding.”

Tina had the grace to blush. Lisa, decidedly un-born, let out a snort. “Compassion? Katlyn couldn’t even spell it.” She glowed a jealous krypton green.

Hard fact was Katlyn was a career woman, good at her job, and the others resented it. Of course, Katlyn’s abrasive manner hardly endeared many to offer up the hand of friendship but when Ellie had first set foot on Kuros, raw and panic-stricken, Katlyn had taken her under her wing. Toughened her up so to speak.

“Anyway,” Lisa bought into her deliberations, “are you going to take her up on her offer? Pavlos will go ballistic, you know.”

Ellie masked her irritation by raising her mug to her lips. Why did Lisa always feel it necessary to remind her of her husband’s iron-rod of control? But that was women; secretly delighting in even their friends’ less than perfect marriages. It drew the spotlight away from their own miserable existence.

“Look,” Tina, ever the soother of the troubled waters, tried to soften Lisa’s barbed jib, “you know I hate agreeing with him but this time he may have a point. It’s only been three months —”

“I’m well aware of that,” Ellie snapped. She wasn’t sure what irked her most; being reminded of Pavlos’s character failings or her own –albeit beyond her control – flaws.

Tina knew when to back off. She responded with a mollifying smile. “Your hair looks good. You suit it short and I never realized your natural color was so gorgeous.”

“Tell it to Pavlos.” Ellie ran her fingers through rich russet curls.

Lisa, ever-belligerent, ploughed on. “Oh stop trying to deflect from the issue, Tina. You’re always doing that. I —”

“And you always go in like a bulldozer, Miss Sensitive as ever.”

The two women faced off. Ellie knew they meant well, thinking they knew what was best for her, believing they knew her so well. They didn’t, of course. No-one did.

“Will you both just shut up?” Elli closed her eyes against the sun peeping out from behind the May clouds. “I’m not stupid. I know Pavlos won’t agree but I have to try. Thing is…I really want to do this.” She gripped her mug, frustration spilling over. “I am going crazy here. I feel…” No point in continuing. They wouldn’t understand. As far as her friends were concerned, she had it all: Big house, pool, a wardrobe of expensive clothes and — ok — not-so loving husband but more than affectionate bank balance. And she would have traded it for an ounce of the freedom. But then, what was the old saying? The grass is always greener etc etc? Well her lawn had long withered and died.

“You know what his answer will be.” Lisa sniffed. “He didn’t want you working before your —”

“..Dance with death?” Ellie tone plummeted to meat freezer cold. “We all lead a dance with death, Lisa. I wish you’d all stop making a big deal out of mine.”

“Oh Ellie, positive thinking is all well and good but —”

“But what?” Ellie counter-attacked. “Losing your faith? Not a very good advert for the happy-clappy crowd, are you?”

“I didn’t mean —”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Gathering up the remains of the impromptu coffee morning, Ellie stood. “I know what you all mean and quite honestly I am tired of it. Stop trying to wrap me in cotton wool. I’ve had months of it from Pavlos and I don’t want anymore. I don’t need it. I am fine, ok? I feel great. The only thing wrong with me is this massive bloody headache thumping away in my skull caused by your constant nagging and misplaced intentions. I am going for a swim and if you really want to help, feel free to do the bloody washing-up.” She walked off the terrace, leaving her friends, mouths open, floundering like oxygen deprived goldfish.

Ellie thrashed up and down the navy-tiled pool, wincing as her right arm launched its protest.

“Swimming is good.” Her physio had said. “But take it easy.”

Like she had a choice. She heard a car roar into life. Good, they were going. Too much philanthropy could kill you.

Ellie rolled onto her back and slowed to a leisurely back-crawl. The sky was a Cezanne canvas. The cotton-wool puffs of cloud had scurried on. Overhead, house-martins sang to each other, husband and wife teams, so in synch, totally absorbed in the Herculean task of filing too many young, hungry mouths. The gardens around the pool were in full youthful summer sprint, plants and exotic shrubs bursting with life and vibrant color. Ellie blessed her good fortune in possessing such a beautiful home. No question Pavlos provided for her well. A wave of depression seeped into her chilling body, booting out her momentary burst of pleasure with her surroundings.

Pavlos. He’d tried so hard to pretend all was well but Ellie knew different.She felt his revulsion, read it in his cold eyes, the turning down of his lip as he watched her undress for bed. A bed they no longer shared. Not that she cared. It was so typical of his nature, a nature which only appreciated and accepted perfection. Poor Pavlos. Ellie smiled. How he must feel life had cheated him. His trophy wife now so…so imperfect.

Arms tired, Ellie floated, her thoughts buried deep in the past. Why had it all gone wrong? When had things changed? The day after the honeymoon, she admitted. Not an uncommon occurrence, if most of her friends were to be believed. It seemed to be the unwritten law that once ring was securely on finger, tender, loving, attentive, seemingly open-minded lover morphed into possessive, dictatorial, old-fashioned stereotype Greek man. Not all, to be fair. Ellie had friends whose marriages were successful, unions based on love, trust — respect. Shame hers was not one of them.

Adding her sigh to the whispering breeze rustling at the leaves, Ellie supposed she was, in some way, to blame. Many women, she knew, accepted their lot in life, trading their souls for a big house and nice clothes. She could not. Pavlos may believe he controlled her but he’d never been able to tame her inner spirit. Deep down he knew it and how he hated that.

She served a Greek-style lunch on the terrace, a terrace that afforded them a panoramic view of Ag Markos bay and the mountains beyond. The sea was deep blue velvet, sun dancing upon the surface, shooting off into tiny silver and gold stars.

Ellie stared out to the purple-edged horizon, gaze trained on a passing ferry on its almost impassive way to the mainland. Conversation hardly flowed, unspoken words between them a dried-up river bed of cracked emotion.

As always, Pavlos was irritable; tired and stressed, swearing under his breath in a monotone of surly Greek.Ellie understood his mood. The tourist industry was a tough business to be in — more so when one was an agent for ten or so European travel companies. Pavlos hadn’t shared much, only a brief comment on her cooking which, although he conceded wasn’t bad for a xeni, was not a patch on his revered mother’s. She refused to rise to the bait.

Watching her husband methodically spear lumps of feta to compliment the artichokes she’s painstakingly cleaned and cooked, Ellie knew he held his nerves by a tenuous thread. Experience taught her, at the beginning of the season, it was best to leave him to wallow in his mire of discord. So many problems and too little time in which to deal with them. Pavlos hated to delegate. He always spouted who the hell knows the business like I do? Who can I trust? No one.

He tore at a lump of bread with his teeth, as subtle as a lion tearing off meat from its kill. No, not the best time to approach him with Katlyn’s offer but Ellie had little choice. Katlyn needed an answer like…well…yesterday really.

Ellie placed her fork across the half-empty plate. Not bad. A month before, the food would have remained untouched. Pavlos followed her line of sight, irritation deepening the creases on his tanned brow.

“You need to eat more.”

“I ate a good breakfast,” she jumped in, not wanting to get bogged down in another one sided debate on the finer points of post chemo nutrition. “Pavlos…. Katlyn called this morning.”

His snort rebounded off the rim of his wine glass. “That must have been scintillating for you. I’m surprised she has the time for idle gossip. What, no prestigious guests to terrorize?

Hand folded in her lap, Ellie drove her knuckles into her thighs. “She…” Squaring her shoulders, she met his gaze full on. “She offered me a job…as an airport rep…it’s only two days a week and —”

Pavlos didn’t raise his voice; there was no need. His expression grew as cold and immobile as the Parthenon frieze. “After all you have been through?”

“It’s because of what I have been through that I want to do it.” Words spilled from her lips but even as they slid out she knew her plea was futile.

“Agape mou,”

He reverted to charm mode; the same charm that had captivated her all those years ago, when she had been naïve and so caught up in the magic that was Kuros. Shame it had taken it all of three years to wear off. His charm, that is, not the island. The island she still adored with a passion.

“It’s only been three months.” He dabbed at tomato stained lips. “Quite honestly, I think your so-called friend is mad to even suggest —”

“Don’t blame Katlyn. I asked.”

Pavlos looked far from convinced.“Besides,” he threw down his napkin. “I wouldn’t let you work for that company even if you were 100% fighting fit.”

Ellie struggled to keep her expression impassive. “Dream is a good company,” she edged cautiously back into the argument. “Especially since David Wells —”

Pavlos swore again, a sure sign she’d enraged him. “He is an idiot! What does he know about running a tourist business?”

Her husband suffered from that disease peculiar to Kuros business men; jealousy. It was an ailment verging on paranoia: who was more successful, who made more money, who was sabotaging who blah blah. Katlyn’s cardinal sin was that she worked for Dream Villas. Ellie found this ludicrous. Pavlos had no need to be envious, especially since he had landed the contract for Go4It Holidays two years previously, a massive deal that raked him in a fortune from sales and commission.

“I admit Mr. Wells does not have your experience but that is why he delegates and allows Katlyn a free hand even though Kat knows he doesn’t like her. That makes him a good businessman,” Ellie threw back at him. “He knows how to delegate.”

“Unlike me?” Pavlos almost snarled his response.

Ellie instantly regretted adding this particular irritant on to the mounting pile of pyrotechnic grievances.

“After all these years you still do not understand, Ellie. I cannot trust anyone to do what I do.”

“Not even Eleni?” The name oozed out before she could stop it.

A silence descended upon the terrace; even the house-martins seemed to suspend flight.

Pavlos pushed his plate aside. “I am going to sleep. I suggest you do the same.”

With that, he left her alone, once again defeated. It wasn’t that she cared about his long-running affair with his office manager but his insistence that it was all in her mind irked. God, the whole bloody island knew. Pavlos wasn’t exactly discreet. Running her fingers through her short curls, she reached for her cell phone. “Katlyn? I’m sorry. It’s no go.”