Page 45 of The Island Villa

It was news to her that her sister ever felt emotional.

“I make all my decisions when I’m feeling emotional.”

Her sister glanced at her. “And how does that work out?”

“Mostly badly.” Cassie helped herself to a slice of spanakopita and moaned as the flavor exploded in her mouth. “This is delicious. Maria sent me the recipe for this once and I tried to make this at home. It was a disaster. Now I buy it from the deli near my house, but it’s not the same. Do you think it’s just because Greek food tastes better in Greece?”

“Maybe,” Adeline selected an olive, “but I think it’s mostly because Maria is a genius in the kitchen.”

“She is. And I feel bad. She has been working all day preparing for this evening, and I ruined it.” Guilt almost put her off her food, but not quite. She took another piece of lamb.

“You didn’t ruin anything.”

“I stormed off.”

“And I stayed and yelled.” Adeline took a careful sip of champagne. “I’d say that of the two of us, you handled it in a far more rational manner.”

“You yelled? I can’t imagine that.”

Adeline lowered the glass and stared out across the sea. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear me.”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Cassie pondered. “There was nothing rational about the fact that I ran away. I didn’t know what to do. It was impulse.”

“It was an impulse that gave you space and time to think. Because you removed yourself from the situation, you didn’t say things you might later regret. It was a sensible move. Your glass is empty.”

“That’s easily fixed.” Cassie reached for the bottle and topped up her glass. She felt a flicker of guilt. “This was supposed to be for the celebration.”

“Well, now it’s for drowning our sorrows. Our mother owes us that at least after springing that surprise on us.”

Cassie’s stomach gave a flip as she remembered that the problem hadn’t gone away. “Why didn’t she at least warn us?”

“I don’t know. Possibly because this is our mother and she expected us to be thrilled.”

Cassie took an olive from the plate. “But how could she possibly have thought we’d be thrilled?”

“It’s what she does. It’s the way she thinks. You know her. She has a way of shaping life into the way she wants it to look. It probably didn’t occur to her that we’d be shocked and horrified. She treats real life as fiction. She thinks we’re her characters, and that we’ll react the way she wants us to react. She wrote the story of this evening in her head.”

“You’re right, she does do that.”

“Although there is another explanation.” Adeline paused while she chewed. “It’s possible that she was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that if she told us,” Adeline said slowly, “we wouldn’t come.”

“But what’s the difference between telling us before we arrive, and telling us when we’re on the island? It doesn’t change the news.”

“No, but now we’re here, not exactly trapped, but certainly unable to leave easily. It’s possible that she knew we’d be upset and thought that by being here, there would be a greater chance of us having time to calm down and think it through.”

“You’re very smart. I would never have thought of that.”

“Not really. It’s my job to think about why people do the things they do.”

Cassie did the same, only Adeline dealt with real people and she dealt with fictional people.

She topped up her sister’s glass. It felt strange to be sharing like this. “You never struck me as the sort of person who drowns her sorrows. I thought you were always rational and calm.”

“I thought that too until tonight.” Adeline took a mouthful and then rested the glass in her lap. “Turns out I was wrong.”

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