Page 33 of Deep Blue Lies
And besides. Now that the adrenaline has worn off – a little – I’m still starving. So instead of calling the police, I sit down at my kitchen table and eat mysouvlaki, unpacking it onto my final unbroken plate. Only then do I remember the diary. But I can’t face it now. It’s just too much.
I have the whole of tomorrow off work, I’ll read it then.
TWENTY-THREE
I wake up late the next morning, the sun is already high in the sky and pouring through the kitchen window. It should be nice in the apartment – you could make it nice, with plants and redecorating – but the way Klaus has it at the moment, the sun just makes it stuffy. So I have a quick shower and get dressed, then head down to the harbour. My plan is simple. I’m going to find a table in the shade and drink fresh orange juice and coffee. And I’m going to read what my mum said about her time here twenty-two years ago.
I’m finally going to get some answers about who I am.
The little town is quiet as I walk down towards the seafront. I pick a bar with a view of the fishing boats and the little yachts nestled together in the harbour. I order the drinks, with a bowl of yogurt and fruit. The waiter is a young guy, not much older than me, and he tries to flirt, but I couldn’t be less interested. He keeps on though, and I almost think about finding another place just to get the hell away from him. But eventually he gets the message. I eat quickly, and then pull the diary out of my bag.
I take a deep breath.
Mum’s diary is a red exercise book, quite thin, with just the word “Diary” and the year 2000 printed on the front. I open it and I recognise her handwriting, even though it’s differentto how she writes now – the letters rounder, somehow obviously more youthful. I flick through the contents, not yet ready to dive in. I notice how she’s written on some pages, but then left whole sections blank, sometimes three or four pages of nothing, as if she meant to go back and fill them in, but never did. I turn to the front, there’s a few scrawled contacts, an email address, and then a cute little bookmark thing, made from an origami bat. I can see handwriting on the wing, and when I lift it up I see it says:Imogen & Karen, summer 2000. I close the book for a moment, feeling suddenly dizzy about what I’ve got, what I’m doing.
This really could be the answer to everything I’ve wondered my entire life.
But then, what was it that Kostas told me? How he didn’t remember her being pregnant, and how I need to read this to learn the truth. That doesn’t make any sense, what did he even mean? I take a sip of my orange juice, my hand shaking as I put the glass down. I don’t know what the hell any of this means, I certainly don’t understand it. But maybe I’m about to. I just hope I’m ready for it.
I open the diary again, turn to the first page, and I start to read.
TWENTY-FOUR
May 15th, 2000
Alythos
Well, I finally made it. We flew from Gatwick Airport to Athens, then got a bus to a town near here – I don’t remember the name – and then we got on a little ferry to the island, and then another bus down to a place called Skalio, and then it dropped us off here – at the Aegean Dream Resort.
It’s amazing. It’s this huge hotel building, right on the beach, but away from the town, so it’s kind of private. And there’s a massive pool, all set in really nice gardens. And then behind us, you have these mountains covered with olive trees. It’s so gorgeous.
On the plane, I noticed a few people who looked like they might be coming here too, but I didn’t say anything. Not until we got on the bus – then we all started figuring out who was who. It seems like most of the staff are from England – there’s a couple of girls who areworking in the kids’ club. Chloe, who was here last year, and Sarah, who’s new like me. And there’s one American girl called Imogen.
When we got here the deputy manager – she’s called Mandy – she had a list of who was going to share with who, and I got put in a room with Imogen, so she’s actually lying about ten feet away from me right now. She seems nice, but she’s a bit quiet. I figure she’ll open up a bit once we all get to know each other.
There’s loads of boys though. On the beach part of the resort, they have all these different types of boats for the guests to use. And there’s also waterskiing and windsurfing. So a lot of the boys are instructors for that. Some of them are way hot.
Then apart from that there’s the catering people. Some are chefs, and then there’s sous chefs. I don’t know the difference. Then there’s the people looking after the kids.
But my job is going to be the pool bar, and I saw it for the first time this afternoon – it’s so cool! It’s only open during the day, and apparently it’s a super-chilled job. It doesn’t really get busy, it’s mostly just iced coffees and afternoon cocktails and that sort of thing, and it closes at six-thirty, which is the same time the boys at the beach stop work. That means we’re all going to be free at the same time. And that’s gonna be awesome.
The town – Skalio – is really close, a twenty-minute walk?
Apparently there are loads of really cool bars there, so that’s going to be fun. I need some fun too, after getting so close to qualifying, and then fucking it up. But that already feels a long way away. All of Dad’s hassling and getting on my back. It’s good to leave that behind.
I don’t know how much I’ll be able to write this diary. My plan is totry and write something every day, so that in the future, I’ll be able to look back and remember everything that happened.
So hello, future me, if you’re reading this. And if you’re not future me, then what are you doing reading this? Get the hell outta here!
TWENTY-FIVE
May 16th, 2000
Sooooo. Second night here, second diary entry. So far, so good!
Another bus arrived, with a few more people who are going to work here, so that now everyone’s in place. I’m not going to list everyone – there’s about thirty of us staff in total. But some are locals, so they don’t really count.
I probably could name them all if I wanted to, I’ve been pretty good about introducing myself and figuring out who’s cool and who isn’t. There’s a guy called Neil – he’s the head of the beach section. He was here last year as well, and he’s super hot.
