‘No. I know that,’ Julia added hastily. ‘But it is a big decision, the biggest really. And I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. I just want to give you the chance to back out now . . . before it’s too late.’
Sam leant across the table and took Julia’s hand in his. His hands were cool, chilled by the glass that they had just put down. ‘Dearest Julia. I have known you almost my whole life. I love you like a sister and I am thrilled and honoured that you have asked me to do this incredibly special thing for you. I have thought about it carefully and I can categorically say that I’m not going to change my mind.’
Julia let out a sharp breath. ‘You don’t know how pleased I am to hear you say that,’ she said.
‘And are you sure?’ he asked her.
Julia’s eyes looked up to the ceiling, as if the answer to this question could be located in the rafters. She chewed on her lip as she pushed the idea around in her head yet again. ‘Yes,’ she said in strong, clear tones. ‘I am single. There is no Prince Charming waiting in the wings for me. I have a good job with good benefits. I have my own home. I have lots of friends and family nearby and I am thirty-five. Unless Mr Right puts in an appearance very, very soon I’m going to be older than I want to be. So yes. I’m sure.’
‘Great!’ said Sam, and he raised his glass to toast the decision. ‘To two becoming three,’ he added, nudging his glass against hers.
A rush of excitement flooded through Julia from her hairline all the way down to her toes. This was really going to happen. Well, maybe that was a little bit premature, but it was at least closer to happening than it had ever been in her life before.
8
GREECE
Cecily had unpacked her suitcase. She’d hung her skirts, dresses and cardigans in the wardrobe and laid the rest of her things neatly in the drawers. It had taken her less than ten minutes and now she sat on the edge of the bed and looked around her tidy, solitary room. She couldn’t think when she had last been in a hotel without Norman, if indeed she ever had. It was an adventure and she ought to be feeling intrepid and independent but in fact, all she felt was small and vulnerable. She had done as the letter had asked her and so had put herself on the line for potential rejection and humiliation. The thought of what might happen next made her stomach knot.
She reached into her handbag and retrieved the letter that had sent her chasing off across the globe. She had read it so many times already, but again she let her eyes rest upon its contents. Its style was very matter-of-fact; just the bare bones of what had happened, which was enough to convince Cecily of its authenticity, and practical information about the arrangements for the meeting. The invitation, such as it was, gave nothing away about its author, which in itself might have made Cecily feel even more trepidatious if she had allowed herself to think about that, but its contents were clear enough. ‘If you would like to meet to discuss this then come to the hotel as suggested below.’ That was it. There was nothing to suggest that it had been a difficult or emotional letter to write and it revealed none of the details that Cecily craved, but there was nothing she could do about that. She would just have to wait.
She stood up, paced across the room to the window and looked out across the rocks to the sea beyond. The sunlight made the water twinkle as the waves danced across its surface. Her stomach growled ominously and the sound made her realise how hungry she was. What with all the busyness of travel she had barely eaten anything since breakfast. Maybe she should wander downstairs. There was bound to be someone who could explain how the retreat worked and point her in the direction of dinner. She remembered the woman on the minibus, who had mentioned that the food was the thing that brought her back again and again, and her mouth watered.
With that decision made, Cecily quickly changed out of her travelling clothes and put on a cotton skirt in a pretty floral print and a short-sleeved blouse. Her arms and décolletage had turned a honeyed brown in the early part of the summer at home, but her legs still held on to the pasty hue of winter. Not that anyone here would be looking at her legs, but she still liked to look her best. Perhaps she could get some sun on them over the next few days, colour them up a little? She slipped her feet into her sandals, picked up her bag and key card and left the room.
The reception area was much busier than it had been when she’d arrived. Women wearing yoga leggings or sarongs were hovering about the space. Each seemed to be holding a cocktail glass. Cecily scanned the space to see where the drinks were coming from and spotted a table of glasses filled with bright orange and red liquid. She headed that way.
A woman was standing behind the table handing out the drinks. She was tall and slim with cascades of ebony curls that threatened to totally swamp her features. She was dressed in floating white linen, her bare arms toned and tanned, with leather bangles round her wrists and delicate silver rings on every finger. When she saw Cecily, her face lit up.
‘You must be Cecily,’ she said, coming out from behind the table. As soon as she was close enough she wrapped her arms around Cecily and pulled her into a strong hug. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you. I’m Sofia.’ She paused as if waiting for some form of recognition, but Cecily was none the wiser.
‘Are you in charge?’ she ventured.
Sofia smiled, seeming to sense how very little information Cecily had to go on. ‘Sorry, yes. This is my retreat and I lead the yoga, too, so if you come along to the classes then you’ll be with me. I’ll get you a timetable after dinner and fill you in on everything. Here, have one of these.’
She led Cecily back to the drinks table and passed her a glass. ‘It’s a virgin tequila sunrise,’ she explained. ‘We don’t serve alcohol but we’re not puritanical about it. If you fancy a glass of something then there’s nothing stopping you from wandering into a bar in the town. Have a taste.’ Sofia smiled widely and nodded at the cocktail.
Cecily put the glass to her mouth and took a sip. It wasn’t bad; very orangey and fresh with a kick of something sharp, but she couldn’t help thinking that it would be better with tequila and grenadine.
‘We meet for cocktails at seven-thirty each evening so that we can chat over our day before dinner. People tend to take them outside.’ Sofia gestured towards an open French window that led out towards a pool.
‘How lovely,’ said Cecily, although going out and standing amongst a group of women she didn’t know felt less than appealing at that moment.
As if realising her reluctance, Sofia pressed on. ‘I know you’re here by yourself but really, that’s no problem. Ladies often come alone. There’s such a friendly vibe and we’ve all got so much in common that it’s easy to find people to chat to. Come. Let me introduce you.’
Sofia took Cecily by the arm and guided her towards the open door. Outside the air felt balmy on her skin and in her nostrils as she breathed in the heady scent of jasmine. Cicadas chirped noisily nearby.
‘Everyone!’ said Sofia, loudly enough that people stopped talking and turned towards her. ‘This is Cecily from Yorkshire. She has just arrived and is here on her own so please could you all make her feel welcome.’
Cecily was impressed that Sofia knew this detail even though they hadn’t discussed it. She was either particularly professional or she had taken a special interest in her. From the warmth of her greeting Cecily suspected that Sofia knew about the letter that had summoned her. Just what else did she know? Cecily wondered.