Page 80 of For One Moment With You
She stares at me. ‘What do you mean?’ Then she looks at my flowers. ‘Who are those from?’ she says suspiciously.
‘Those?’ They really are the loveliest flowers. ‘They’re from Adam.’
But as I tell her how we left things, something happens inside my head. By that, I mean a kind of unravelling of all the confusion starts, and this glorious pattern begins to emerge. I see the shimmering threads of my life interwoven with those of Adam’s. From our first meeting to the chance meetings since. The times we’ve just missed each other, been committed to other people. Culminating in now, when both of us are free – albeit in separate countries.
‘So why are you hesitating?’ Elena looks perplexed. ‘Seriously, Tilly, I don’t get it. Here you are in the middle of what seems like some great fated love story – if it’s really like it is with Adam and you haven’t embellished it…’
‘I haven’t,’ I say firmly. I mean, honestly. What is she thinking? Me, embellish things? ‘I suppose my marriage has left me a bit untrusting. Hardly surprising, in the circumstances. And if something’s too good to be true, in my experience, it usually is.’ I hesitate. ‘Don’t you agree?’
‘Not always,’ Elena says. ‘Don’t forget, Tilly. Life can truly be magical. Only you seem to have forgotten that.’
Once, I would have agreed with her. But as I’m all too aware, it can be magical – I rediscovered that in Crete. In the landscape, the people. In myself.Oh Tilly. Even now, can’t you be honest with yourself?‘I don’t think this is so much about realising how I feel,’ I say, somewhat sheepishly. ‘It’s about finding the courage to admit it to myself.’
There’s frustration in Elena’s eyes. Right now, there must be a million things my friend could say to me. But mercifully, she keeps it brief. ‘You need to call Adam,’ she says. ‘Immediately, for God’s sake.’ Leaning across the table, she pushes my phone towards me.
* * *
On this occasion I don’t do as she says. I wait until she’s gone, while I try to work out what I’m going to say to him. When eventually I do call him, it goes straight to voicemail.
Hi, it’s me. Can you call me? I mean, it’s Tilly, in case you haven’t realised. Thank you.
I keep my phone with me, just in case. But by that evening, I’m anxious when he still hasn’t returned my call. Telling myself he could be on a flight, I close the curtains, then warm up some soup and switch on the TV just as the news comes on, my focus sharpening as Greece is mentioned.
Suddenly remembering the storm Adam mentioned, I stare aghast at the images of windswept coast and flooding.Oh my God. Forgetting my soup, I pick up my phone to call Adam again. But like last time, it goes to voicemail.
Hi, are you OK? I’ve just seen pictures of the storm on the news. It looks terrible over there. Please call me.
Starting to panic, I open Google and search for more information on Greek news channels, my fears growing when Chania is mentioned, realising that if the storm is that bad, communications may well be down. I imagine the people I know in Chania – Adam, of course. But also Nicos and Andreas and his wife. Michail, even. All of them battling with the storm that’s raging.
Putting down my phone, my mind is racing; my dominant thought,I should be there. And this time, it isn’t about solving their problems, being Tilly the hub. It’s simply because I care about them.
I pick up my phone again. Finding no direct flights, I book a flight to Athens, leaving at five thirty in the morning, followed by another flight from there to take me to Crete. Then like I did the last time, when I was supposed to be going to San Jose, I book a taxi to take me to the airport.
Sleep is impossible that night. Not because of the time the taxi will be turning up. It’s the thought of Adam caught up in the storm; the reality that I’m unable to reach him. At 2a.m. I make myself a coffee, my sleeplessness irrelevant when an hour later, the taxi turns up.
It’s another indication of how much has changed in just a few months that unlike last time, I can’t get away from here quickly enough. The roads are quiet, the drive uneventful. And even though it’s early, the airport is busy, as airports always are. But by a stroke of luck my flight is half full and I have a row of seats to myself. After the aircraft takes off, I try to block out the worst-case scenarios filling my head, because fretting isn’t going to help Adam or anyone else. And there’s always the chance the storm will have blown through, that nothing is as bad as it looked on TV.
My hopes are short lived, however. After a very turbulent approach, when we land in Athens I’m met by chaos. As well as the damage it’s caused, the storm has disrupted flights and led to ferries being cancelled. Finding an information desk, I’m told the airports in Crete are closed and flights are cancelled indefinitely.
I know from the San Jose experience that there’s no point in getting worked up about it; that the airlines don’t have a hotline to the elements. Finding a chair to sit on while I wait, I try to call Adam again. But yet again, it goes to voicemail. I leave him another message.
I’m in Athens. My connecting flight is cancelled. I don’t know how long I’m going to be stuck here. When I knew how bad the storm was, I had to come back.
Sitting in the terminal, I watch the rain lashing against the windows. Outside, no planes are moving. In fact, nothing’s moving. Everyone’s taken shelter out of the storm. Wondering how exactly I’m going to get to Crete, above the kerfuffle around me, I hear my name called out.
‘Tilly?’
Leaping to my feet, I turn my head to find out where it’s coming from; through the crowd, seeing a familiar face. ‘Nicos!’ I hurry over to him.
When I reach him, he kisses me on both cheeks. ‘What are you doing here, Tilly?’
‘I heard about the storm. I had to come back. I’ve been trying to call Adam but he isn’t picking up. Have you seen him?’
‘I have not.’ Nicos is silent for a moment. ‘Everyone who can is leaving. Those of us who haven’t, have moved to high ground. The storm…’ He shrugs. ‘It is the worst in living history. We do not know what we will go back to. I am going to my mother’s, here in Athens. You can come with me if you like. My mother will make you most welcome.’
‘That’s really kind.’ I pause. ‘But I need to find Adam.’
Nicos nods. ‘He is a good man. I think he was sad after you left. You were good for him.’
