The Secret of Helena's Bay by Sally Quilford

Author:Sally Quilford
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Greece, Large Type Books, General, Romance, Missing Persons, Islands, Fiction
ISBN: 9781444805307
Publisher: Linford Romance
Published: 2010-12-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Dinner was a much more relaxed affair than the previous evenings, with wine and good conversation flowing freely. Shelley laughed more than she had for a long time as Len treated them to tales of the hapless criminals he had arrested over the years, and Miss Charters talked of her own time as a dancer at the Windmill club.

It was hard for Shelley to believe that the demure Miss Charters was once in a nude review.

“It was much more modest than it sounds,” Miss Charters told the diners. “Everything was in those days. We weren’t allowed to move in case anything jiggled. That was until someone let a mouse loose on the stage. Then everything jiggled. I received at least five proposals of marriage after that night. Turned them all down, fool that I am.”

After dinner, someone put music on, and Yaya taught them Greek dancing. She explained, translated by Paris, that the island dances were ‘watery’ in flow and tone, and showed them how to do it.

Once the British guests got over their initial reserve, they all began to enjoy themselves, whilst Len did his impression of Zorba the Greek, dancing out of time with all the others but not caring at all.

Shelley felt a hand in hers, and saw Paris standing next to her, whilst Mrs Caldicott took her other hand. There was something secure about the way they held on to her, though she was honest enough to admit that it was Paris’s hand which made her feel the safest. With wine filling her veins and a newfound sense of peace, she allowed the dance to carry her away from all the cares of the past year. Tony was forgotten. Her mother was forgotten. Stefan was forgotten. The sinister men on the east bay were forgotten. After all, how could anything be sinister on this wonderful islet? All she felt was the music and Paris’s strong hand holding hers.

She decided that despite their little idiosyncrasies, the people were good people. Mrs Caldicott might be a bit stern, but she was kind to everyone, ensuring they all had plenty of food and drink, clucking like a mother hen over those who seemed a bit lonely, insisting they join in the fun. Len might moan a bit but he was a good laugh when he let go and forgot he was supposed to be a sensible ex-policeman. Miss Charters, though a bit bird brained at times, was a sweetie with lots of funny tales to tell. Even June, with her brittle salon manager manner, turned out to be good company. Shelley wondered then if that was what the holiday was all about. Cracking through tough shell people built around themselves in the outside world.

The air was heavy with the scent of jasmine and the ozone from the sea. If Shelley were asked to describe paradise, this would be it. Miles away from the hustle and bustle, with no exhaust fumes or roaring engines. Only the soft hush of the sea as it touched the shore, and the occasional cicada chirping out a night song.

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