I've so enjoyed sharing this story with you all. For a while I had a bittersweet ending in mind but I decided that was a tired trope and instead that my ladies deserved something better. Thank you to everyone who has read and returned to read the next chapter. It means a lot to me. Thanks for all the reviews, you have cajoled and carried me along. Writing can be a lonely journey, but it is helped by having like minded people to help you along the way. Think of me as I try to adjust my imaginings from a middle aged lesbian to an eight year old boy.

There will be one epilogue which I am currently writing and then it's adieu to Marilla and Rachel.

Rejoice in the Echoing Shore

The only thing I worry about," said Marilla one night as they planned their getaway. "Is your studies. It's a shame to let it go now."

"Yes, I've been thinking about that," replied Rachel. "But the thing is I've been struggling with it anyway. So many of our group sessions revolve around our experiences and well, you know I have to keep that hidden. It's not easy to keep my story straight."

"Yes, won't do to let anyone know you were abused yourself."

"No. And I find it hard to hold my tongue when people question the behaviours of battered women. I know what it's like but I have to keep schtum. I know I can do it, Marilla. It's done wonders for my confidence, but when I weigh up a degree versus moving to Greece; well I know what I'd rather do."

"So long as you've made peace with it," said Marilla consolingly.

"I have. I'm happy to let it go. Anyway, I'm not getting any younger. I think I'd like to relax and enjoy life with you rather than being a slave to the books. I'm not thinking of it as giving it up, but rather as changing direction."

"Wonderful. On that note, shall we spend some time together now?" suggested Marilla with a soft grin.

"I think that is an excellent idea. I'm sick of packing anyway," replied Rachel reaching out for Marilla's hand.

In late May they were welcomed at their favourite Lesbos taverna Agape with open arms. Their old friend Laura greeted them at the door and despite the soft light she noticed that something had changed. She placed her hand over Marilla's, "what happened?"

"Ah yes," said Marilla with a rueful smile. "An accident, I'm as blind as a bat. All I have are my memories. Tell me nothing's changed."

"Well we have had a bit of a facelift since you were last here." Laura described the new decor as they sat down at a table and Marilla nodded, it sounded lovely. Rachel spied an old friend and touching Marilla on her shoulder left her in Laura's care. "How are you both?" Laura asked as she watched Rachel kiss the other women on both cheeks, European style.

"We're fine, good even," answered Marilla as she reached for her drink. When her fingers connected she drew it over to her and sipped daintily.

"What happened?" Laura asked gently.

"Tree branch fell on me in a storm," explained Marilla matter of factly. If Laura expressed too much sympathy she'd break down; going on to describe what she had been told about that night not that she remembered anything.

"My God!"

"I can't pretend it's been easy, Laura," Marilla said. "But I'm coping better now. Slowly coming to terms with it."

"So you thought it was time for a vacation?"

"This is no vacation," Marilla replied. "We're here to stay."

Laura took a sip, she was delighted and said so. Marilla could hear the smile in her old friend's voice.

Using her local knowledge Laura helped them find an apartment down a narrow cobblestoned street. It was small, just one bedroom tacked onto a kitchenette and small living room with a tiny bathroom; perfect for their requirements. On sunny afternoons they liked to sit out on their little balcony as Marilla listened to the radio or Rachel read the newspaper out loud; they both enjoyed keeping up with a smattering of world news. They became a familiar sight and sound around the little town. The short round woman leading the tall slim blind one tapping her cane to cast around for obstacles.

Marilla had even found her old radio show, The Young and The Irritable on the BBC World Service. It had been a few years since she followed the lives of Ridge and Geraldine and their extended friends and family and had given it up in disgust, but now she greeted it like an old friend. It was funny she mused, despite leaving it for so long it only took a couple of days before she caught up with the major plot lines. It was as preposterous as ever but she found herself getting drawn into the intrigue and it wiled away some time in the mid afternoon. After all what harm did it do?

Sofia Andrianakis and her granddaughter Zoey lived in the flat below. Together they helped Marilla and Rachel learn a few local phrases. The first day Marilla tried shopping on her own the old woman counted out her drachmas and sent her on her way. When Marilla returned a couple of hours later the old woman inspected her shopping bag and counted out the left over money. "Malakas," she muttered. Taking the shopping bag and Marilla's purse she strode off telling Zoey to take Marilla inside. "Ne Yiayia," the little girl called after her.

George Petrellis was having a nice day. The weather was sunny and business was good. He wandered around chatting with his usual customers, polishing the fruit, joining in the spruiking. It was fun to come up with new calls every once in a while; his daughter Katarina often had new ideas for puns to use and they brought a smile from the crowds. He had gained a bit of a reputation for it.

He looked down when someone poked him in the stomach. Diminutive Sofia said calmly, "ela. What's this?" gesturing at the produce. He was about to reply when she continued in a louder voice. "You can do better than this, you malaka, George. You son of a bitch, you whore lover. Skata na fas taking advantage of the blind woman now. You," she started hitting him in the stomach. She barely came up to his waist but like a good Greek boy he took his due punishment. She kept up her tirade battering him all the while. George turned and replaced all the produce adding more for good measure and replaced the money in the purse. "Good," she said when the last note was replaced. "Don't do it again or we women will catch the bus to the next town for our shopping. This is your last warning," she glared up with reproachful eyes.

He heaved a sigh of relief as she turned on her heel and strode away with the heavy shopping bag clutched in her arms. His fellow shop keepers crowded round in sympathy. "It wasn't even you was it?" said his neighbour. "I think it was Dimitri who served her."

"That's right," said a mustachioed man. 'He was so happy with the sale he closed shop for the afternoon."

"He owes you one now," they all laughed with claps on beleaguered George's back. "What's Effie going to say when you get home?"

"She'll murder me too," George said shaking his head with a sigh.

"You know," Laura said one evening when the lights were low and the music too. "I could do with a hand around the place. What do you think about helping out? Nothing too strenuous, just a bit of help with the hostessing and maybe the books."

"I used to be a book-keeper," sighed Marilla. "But I doubt I'd be able to do it now. I think eyesight is required."

"No," replied Laura sadly. "I suspect that's not your forte now. How about being a greeter. Especially the new customers. You have such a gentle demeanour. You wouldn't scare folks off."

"I'll give it a go," said Marilla hiding her nervousness.

As it turned out Laura was right, Marilla was perfect for the role. They installed a small bell to alert her when peopled arrived and she had a sixth sense to determine if they needed an hand. She never forgot the warm welcome they received the first time they stood on the threshold and did her best to emulate it. She had an unerring knack of knowing where to send people too as well. Rachel or Laura would point out where certain groups were sitting, Marilla only had to be told once and she'd have them all mapped out in her head so she could send women to exactly the right spot.

Rachel helped with the book-keeping asking Marilla questions when she was stuck. It was only a couple of days a week, nothing too onerous but it helped structure their time and the small stipend Laura paid them didn't go astray either. Rachel even found her study useful after all. Sometimes she would find women weeping in stray corners and she would sit by them and tease their story out. All too often they too had escaped abusive relationships and had come to Lesbos seeing succour. "So I get to use my training after all," she explained to Marilla.

"That's marvellous."

"Yes, I feel useful you know, it wasn't all in vain."

"You said you wanted to give it up," Marilla said, worried that Rachel now regretted her decision.

"And I did, but still I'm glad I'm using it now and happy to help. These poor women need someone to talk to. I usually recommend they see someone when they go home, but at least I can start the process."

"You're wonderful. I'm sure you're a great help."

"Well I do my best," said Rachel thoughtfully.

"I picked up some mail this afternoon," said Rachel one afternoon when the cobblestones outside fairly shimmered in the heat. "Here's a parcel from Matthew." Rachel settled in a chair and drew a refreshing glass of water close before unwrapping it. She gasped, "it's beautiful. It's a painting of home, Marilla, with rolling hills and crimson leaves falling. A true PEI fall," her voice cracked slightly on the last word. She unfolded the letter that fluttered on her lap and read it out loud.

29 June 1976
Green Gables

Dear Marilla and Rachel,

Saw this painting and thought it might remind you of home, Rachel. I'm told the artist is a deaf Frenchy. I thought it was quite good, anyway hope you like it.

Green Gables continues much as you would expect. Don't go specting me to describe it for you, you probably remember it at this time of year anyways, you lived here long enough, dear sister. With harvest looming I've hired a couple of men to help.

It's been a mite lonely since you two left. Didn't realise how much I'd miss you, but it's alright now cos Lucy has decided to move in with me. She arrived with all her luggage and random pieces of furniture last week and it's been a joy to have her around. I know this probably comes as a bit of a shock to you Rachel but we decided to keep it a secret in case we couldn't bear each other. As it turns out we are forming a closer bond than ever. She's inhabiting the upper level and me the lower so we have our own space same as always. But of course the kitchen is the spot we spend most of our time in. Lucy has brought her own touches and we have a fine old time together. She is busy with her friends of course, but she brings them home on occasion and I find myself most amused by their antics. She wants to host a party next month which I find myself looking forward to.

I must say I think of you on your beautiful island, which of course have only seen in photos and feel somewhat envious. Maybe I'll come and visit next year.

I wonder if you're still interested in the town gossip despite being so far away but you was always one for it Rachel, so if you like I'll try to keep my ears open so as to keep you up to date. I'll send the newspaper to you if you like, though I spect it'll feel very insignificant to you jet setters. I did hear one story of interest which you will see I included.

Rachel unfolded a scrap of paper and read out the headline, "Quebecois man Charged with Embezzlement".

That made Marilla sit up with interest, "go on," she said earnestly.

"Jean Pouse formally of PEI and Montreal was charged with embezzlement today authorities say. Although this charge pertains to a recent matter it is believed Pouse is a repeat offender. Goodness Marilla, fancy that. Think it's the same man, how many Jean Pouses can there be? There's a picture of him here. I must say if it is he's aged badly. He's terrible grey and lined now. A far cry from the handsome man you knew."

"Good," said Marilla flatly.

Rachel glanced up at her but Marilla's face was expressionless. She took a sip of water and unfolded the thin blue paper of an aerogram, "this one's from Anne."

"Lovely," said Marila setting back against the cushions. Anne always wrote the most marvellous letters.

Glen St Mary
1 July 1976

Dearest Marilla and Rachel

It is wonderful as always to write to you and thrilling to think that my words have flown from here to a tiny spot in the middle of the Aegean. I have some news for you so I hope you are sitting down. I can picture you sitting in a small sitting room or on that balcony you told me about looking over your little town or maybe you're in some taverna listening to a band play in the distance with a glass of wine in front of you. Where ever you are I know you are happy and that fills my heart with glee.

Anyway sorry to digress, the real news I'm writing about is that I'm pregnant!

The doctor says I'm about 2 months gone. I admit I have been feeling rather nauseous and exhausted, Rachel sighed and nodded but the worst should be behind me soon, hopefully anyway. It's not too bad, so don't worry.

We were thinking of coming to visit you before the baby is born, how would that be? I suggested it to Gil the other day and he's enthusiastic. I so want to share part of this pregnancy with you, Marilla. I'd love to have your warm hands on my burgeoning stomach, to have you feel my baby. Goodness when I write it out like that it seems so real. My Baby. Makes me feel very grown up all of a sudden. Fancy me being a mother? I can't believe it myself though this swelling belly of mine is a very real daily reminder. We have been bandying name ideas around Marilla. Maybe Sharon for a girl or Brian for a boy? It's just so exciting to imagine it. I roll the word 'mother' around in my mouth, it sounds awfully grownup. Now of course I worry, I am responsible for another being. What do I know about parenthood? I'm reading all sorts of books and they sound so solemn. I don't think I want to be too much of a disciplinarian Marilla. I want to be the fun sort of mother who leads my baby on adventures.

"That's what I'd imagine, Marilla," remarked Rachel fondly.

"Yes, but hold the hash brownies please," responded Marilla with a smile.

"Well a grandmother; how wonderful for you," Rachel said reaching out to pat Marilla on the hand.

"Not something I saw coming a couple of decades ago."

"No indeed. We'll have to fire up the knitting needles now."

"Oh yes, what a lovely idea. Have you seen any yarn for sale here?"

"I haven't looked, but I'm sure Laura or Sophy will have some ideas," replied Rachel thoughtfully.

Initially Marilla had feared she'd knitted her last stitch, but as time went on she came to the realisation that knitting was mostly done by feel and counting, things she could still manage. There hadn't been much need for it lately, but now with a baby on the way she felt a renewed vigour. Now the tones of the Young and the Irritable were accompanied by the click of the knitting needles.

"What time of day do you call this?" Laura laughed at the sight of the two women wrapped around each other. "Get up sleepy heads. We're off on adventure."

"Wha? Wha are you doing here?" Rachel said grumpily.

"Get up, I want to take you somewhere. You'll love it. Get dressed, I'll wait downstairs."

When they finally joined her sleepy eyed and crumpled Laura remarked, "tell me do you usually eschew clothes in bed?"

"Well I mean that is to say," they were embarrassed now.

"No, it's fine. I mean I know only too well the silky feeling of skin on skin. It's just you present such a dignified face to the world. I don't think I'll view you in the same way again."

The ladies burst out laughing, "us dignified?"

"Anyway, come along I don't want to be late."

They both took one of Marilla's arms and walked down the lane to a larger street. Laura authoritively lead them along at a brisk pace until with a flourish she turned a corner and the whole harbour lay before them. They had been here before of course but never in the pre dawn and it was bustling in a new manner.

"The fishermen are selling their catch," explained Laura.

"I can tell," replied Marilla. She did not need the sight of the fishing boats pulled up on the harbour and racks of fish to know. She could hear as gulls called over head and squabbled over stray offcuts. The villagers cried out their wares the higher pitched women strident over the lower bass voices of their men. The strong smell of the sea and drying fish pervaded all. Having taken in the view, Laura led them down to the market and they took their time picking out the best catches of the day. Some for the taverna and some for their own use that night. Laura haggled over the price bantering earnestly back and forth in a mix of Greek and English. Finally their bags heavy with fresh fish they made their way back home for breakfast.

They liked to wander along windswept beaches. Rachel telling the scenery to Marilla, though being an island girl she could picture it easily enough. It was delicious to walk in the shallows letting the gentle waves lap over your toes. Marilla stubbed her toe at times and bent down to pick up the offending rock or shell, their sea polished sides telling their own histories.

The sand still held the residual heat from the day and warmed their bare feet when they shucked off their sandals. Rachel turned to help Marilla with her buttons and then with a quick movement both women disrobed dropping their clothes onto their towels. Arm in arm they strolled towards the water silhouetted by the setting sun as the huge red orb sank lower and lower. "It's a stunning sunset tonight," said Rachel. "It's as though the sky has caught fire from the ground up there's every colour of the rainbow cooling from red orange to violet and blue at the zenith and the crimson rays are reflected across the whole ocean. It's really beautiful." She tore her eyes from the celestial spectacle and noticed that Marilla's bare skin glowed faintly pink in the sun's last rays.

"Sounds lovely," said Marilla with a tinge of sorrow that she was missing out on it.

The water was deliciously mild. They splashed through the gentle waves barely flinching. Marilla clutched onto Rachel for balance and they paused for a moment before continuing their journey. Rachel squealed first when the water hit her sex and Marilla smiled then it was Rachel's turn a few steps later when it reached Marilla's. When the water reached Marilla's hips she let go of Rachel's arm and slid down into the water feeling its dark depths swirl over her breasts and back and head. She swam a couple of breaststrokes splashing Rachel as she kicked. Rachel joined her in the water and they embraced rolling around in the sea laughing and kissing through the salty water. Later they floated on their backs holding hands. "I hear this is what otters do," said Rachel.

"Sh," said Marilla urgently. "What's that?" A sucking noise nearby alerted her and Rachel looked across the water in sudden panic, her heart pounding. A fin broke the water and she relaxed when she noted its gentle rounded shape. An extra fin joined the first, "dolphins," said Rachel and they listened to the sound of the mammals as they sucked in a breath through their blowholes and sunk back under the water.

"I'm gonna come back as a dolphin you know," remarked Marilla.

"So you said."

"I did?"

"On the yacht last time."

"Well I am," she asserted.

"Then I'll always know where you are, I'll visit you on hot nights my love and eventually I'll join you."

"And we'll swim here in the Aegean for ever."

"We will."

The sun slipped past the horizon leaving the sky a dark indigo. In the distance across the bay that town's lights spread sparkling out across the water but too far away to make a difference leaving them swimming in the inky black water, Marilla's lack of sight no impediment in the dark night.

"The sun has set, want to go in?"

"Soon," said Marilla cradled in the warm water. "Soon."

- Fin -