Chapter 4

Excitement and anxiety were joint leaders with exhaustion in Kate's timeline as the summer term came towards it end. She was determined to leave her post in good shape for the new incumbent and, with every hour worked after school to achieve this, trusted that someone was doing the same for her at Sulgrave Heath. Kate also needed to contend with the packing of her house contents as the move was scheduled for the first week of the holidays. There were many evenings when she went from one task to another via a hastily prepared meal or take-away. She was eagerly looking forward to a short breather in mid-August when, hopefully, she would be settled in Harrogate and could enjoy her mum's visit from her home in New York.

So, it was that on 10th August Kate felt herself engulfed by her mother's hug at one of Manchester airport's arrival gates just as Caroline, John, Celia and the boys were boarding a plane at a different terminal in the same airport for their holiday to the Greek island of Kefalonia.

ooOoo

For a few years after her husband died Celia had been invited to accompany the family on their annual holiday but this tradition had stopped when either their choice of country or resort failed to meet her exacting standards. However, on this occasion, she was thrilled to learn of the family's plans and, through some shrewd hints dropped to William, was counted amongst the numbers when the booking was made.

While the destination had been unanimously agreed, the timing of the trip had been a bone of contention. Caroline's preference was to go away at the very start of the school holidays to ensure that she could be back at Sulgrave when both the GCSE and A level examination results were given out. On this occasion, however, John was insistent that he could not go away until August, citing some crucial need to be around for meetings with his publisher. This had caused heated discussions over many days.

'But, there's internet. There are phones; you could even Skype. It doesn't make sense, John. For another thing, the holiday will be dearer once the state schools have broken up. It's not that we can't afford it, but it irks me to pay more for something that we could get for less. And William. It's not just that I won't be in school to celebrate with the pupils and staff. This year, John, of all years. This year it will be William who will be losing out on being there to share results day with his friends. For goodness sake! What planet are you on?' Caroline seethed and reiterated her reasoning to no avail.

'I know all that, Caroline. You're speaking to the converted, but Francis is insistent that I'm about until mid-August. Perhaps you'd better go without me. You'll have Celia for company and the boys don't need me to be there.' John pouted peevishly during the exchange.

William had overheard some of the conversation and interrupted to assure his mum that he was not worried about being in school to collect his results. He knew that his younger brother would be disappointed not to have John with them. John's proposal was, therefore, carried and he breathed an inward sigh of relief that Caroline had not taken him up on his suggestion that he should miss out on the holiday.

Once they had arrived at their destination all memories of dissent were forgotten. The villa and nearby resort were first-class and John was congratulated by the family for his choice on more than one occasion.

'You can make the holiday decisions again, John,' stated his wife on the second day of the holiday when they were enjoying the last of the evening warmth in the villa's courtyard. She held up her wine glass as a toast to him before sipping its contents.

'Yup. Pops is the tops!' added Lawrence. He went to high-five his dad but John's aim was off and they both collapsed in a fit of the giggles.

Celia rose unsteadily from her lounger and kissed the top of Caroline's head. 'I'm off to bed. I need my beauty sleep ready for trip to the caves tomorrow. Night everyone.'

'Caves? What's that about?' questioned the hero of the hour, suddenly less inebriated than he had appeared to be a few seconds before.

'There's some special caves. Oh, Caroline, you tell him the details. I'm a bit tired. Or maybe tipsy!' Celia returned to her seat and stared disapprovingly in the general direction of her son-in-law.

'John, you must remember. That's one of the recommended sites on the island. We chose to go tomorrow because there's an escorted trip from the village and that will save hiring a car, which neither of us wanted to do. I can't believe you've forgotten.' Caroline was what many might call 'happily married' but she was increasingly aware how easily John disrupted their wellbeing by his inattention, which bordered on self-centredness.

'I can't forget what I didn't know. I can't go tomorrow. I've made plans to meet up with a local historian. Now whose memory's failing? I can't believe you would make plans without speaking to me.' John wriggled uneasily in his chair, poured himself more wine and took a large swig. He appeared excessively flustered over something that would not take much reorganisation.

'That's ok. We'll rebook. We haven't bought the tickets yet. I thought it was next Wednesday that…' Caroline was reluctant to allow anything to disturb their holiday and smothered her feelings accordingly.

'No, we have bought tickets; or rather, I have,' interrupted William. 'Gran gave me the money to do it when I walked to the village with Lawrence. Didn't you, Gran?'

'I did. My treat. I was anxious in case they didn't have enough seats if we left it until the day. Can't you put the guide chappie off?' Her penetrating gaze was now firmly fixed on her son-in-law.

'No, I can't. In actual fact, I don't have a contact number for him. This, if you remember Caroline, was organised before we left the UK.'

'Well you said you'd got something organised, I agree. But as I was saying I thought it was Wednesday of our second week here. I'm sorry, I am, if I've made a mistake. Still, no harm done. Caves aren't your thing anyway, are they? You get claustrophobic in a slow lift. You do your thing and we'll do ours. That way at least they'll only be one ticket wasted.'

'No, I don't want you to go without me. I'll pay for us to go another day if you're worried about your mother losing money. You stay here and I'll see my fr.., guide, and we'll all go caving another day.'

Celia may have been slightly inebriated, but she remained a perceptive mother-in-law. She was not fond of John and had never really trusted him. She kept her thoughts to herself but knew a rat when she smelled one. What was he up to? She hoped that Caroline would be both alert and assertive enough to thwart his plans, whatever they might be.

'Let's NOT do that. I think we're all looking forward to the trip. We'll do our separate things tomorrow and if the caves are worth seeing I'll be happy to go with you another day so that you don't miss out.' While striving for harmony, she did not agree in appeasement.

John had been married long enough to know when an argument was beyond his ability to win, which was most of the time where his wife was concerned. He was angry and anxious but felt the best course of action would be to hide his feelings, knowing that his persistence might cause uncomfortable questioning.

'Oh, ok. If you don't mind.' He reached out to stroke the back of Caroline's shoulders. In front of his boys he wanted to appear the conciliator.

Caroline had been married long enough to know when John was being devious, and she was not taken in by his sudden acquiescence. She tucked her suspicion away for further investigation when the time was right.

ooOoo

'I can't think of a word to describe the colours of the water. I hope the camera caught the light. If I live to see 100 I don't think, I'll ever see anything so dramatic as when the sun shone through at midday. It was well worth making the effort to climb onto that boat.' Celia was finding it hard to contain her exhilaration as they walked back towards the rendezvous point for the coach. The trip to the Melissani cave had been a resounding success and even the teenagers agreed with their Gran's assessment.

'It was great, Gran. Mind you, I thought you were going to fall in when that wave came just as you were perched with one leg in the boat and one out!' Lawrence had taken a video of the incident to capture his brother's flustered attempts to help, but decided to keep that piece of information to himself.

'The whole island is certainly recharging my batteries and we've been here less than 72 hours,' Caroline agreed. Even the crowds don't spoil the tranquillity.' This proved to be a premature declaration as at that moment a motor-bike came past, revs screaming against its relatively slow speed, and all eyes were drawn towards it.

While the faces of those on the bike were hidden by visors, the bright yellow Bermuda shorts and pasty, hairy legs of the pillion passenger were unmistakably those of John Elliot. Thick black hair billowed out of the bottom of the driver's helmet. Denim shorts showed off slender legs, which led to creamy, canvas sandals. The bike revved again and within a few seconds disappeared.

'John!' 'Dad!' 'What the hell!' exploded from his family as realisation struck. The object of their bewilderment was oblivious to it all. He was diverted by the excitement of the ride and the thrill of clutching smooth upper thighs.

Lawrence alone was delighted at the spectacle they had just witnessed. Holding his father in high regard, this was a further cause for hero-worship. His exhilaration was soon quieted by his mum.

'Tomfoolery. If he had come of the bike, bare legged, what chance of avoiding significant injury? That's behaviour to be derided, Lawrence, not celebrated.'

Lawrence's voice was silenced but his opinion not quashed. He couldn't wait to ask his dad about the motor bike but reasoned that he would have to wait until his mum was out of earshot.

As circumstances would have it, they were unable to sit together on the coach and no further discussion took place although each one continued to think on the recent event.

'Hello, everyone. How were the caves?' John was sunning himself by the pool on their return to the villa.

Celia was first to speak. 'Just wonderful. Tranquil and beautiful don't quite manage to cover it. Until we had traffic to contend with, that is.'

'Goodness; sorry to hear that. I hope it wasn't bad enough to spoil your day.'

'Well, motorbikes are disruptively noisy, aren't they?' Caroline chimed in tetchily.

The boys sensed this atmospheric change and made themselves scarce. John, too, was alert to the incoming tirade and his face fell briefly before he recollected that he needed to make sure that his conscience did not betray him.

'Well, fancy you saying that. I had a ride on one today, believe it or not. What a coincidence. My guide took me to a village off the beaten track and apart from a tractor that's the only way to get there.' He reasoned that honesty, as far as it went, was his best defence. After all, what was wrong with having a bike ride and if they had seen him, there was nothing condemning in what they would have seen.

'So, who did the driving?' Caroline determined that her questions would be direct. Her senses continued to whisper that there was something amiss and although she might have fared better by being devious, her natural inclination let her down.

'My guide. Jude.'

'Nice legs, Jude has; for a man.'

John was now sure that a pit was waiting for him should he try to deceive, and he was determined not to fall into it.

'Yes, nice legs but most definitely not a man! You could have knocked me down with a feather when a woman met me and said she was Jude. Must be short for something. Didn't ask. Judith, maybe. Anyway, a worthwhile day. It served me well.' Little did John know then that using the librarian's real name would return to condemn him at a later date.

Celia was not convinced that the whole truth was out but decided to keep her council from John and from her daughter.

Caroline thought through the situation when she went to shower in preparation for a meal in a local restaurant. Sifting through the facts as the water cascaded down she thought she was foolish to worry. Yes, he had been evasive the previous evening when discussing the plans for the day, but they had all drunk a good quantity of alcohol and had too much sun which was bound to have affected his behaviour and her reasoning. Yes, he was an inveterate flirt but never having any reason before to doubt his faithfulness, she could not suppose that a few hours spent with a female Greek guide, who he would probably never meet again, was worth her concern.