The Glass Madonna

Chapter 3: Emily comes up with a solution

Emily moved about the flowerbeds, noting just how far the plants had grown and envisaging them in her mind's eye in all their summer glory. White, pink and red phlox would be at the back, at the moment just small shoots but steadily growing towards their tall summer height. In the front, masses of salvia and tall spiked veronica – such a charming name – would soon be in purple bloom and there was a bed of lavender by the path that smelt delicious as she brushed against it. Everywhere bushes were blossoming. The climbing roses on the fences and over the arch were in bud now. She liked the way the buds were so tightly rolled, just showing a little vivid yellow or salmon pink or white. Soon they would be half open, the best stage of all when their colour was most vibrant. She wasn't so fond of them when they became full blown and blowsy, the colour ebbing away from them, petals drifting in showers to the ground.

She came over to Martin now, her eyes shining with that look of freedom and happiness that she always had when outdoors. 'Hi, Dad! Time you were up! Just look at the blossoms everywhere. I love May; I love it so much. Everything blooming and abundant and glorious.'

'Chaucer loved May as well, it was his favourite month,' said her father. 'He said it made him happy again to be out walking at this time of year. He loved daisies of all the flowers.'

Emily laughed with delight. 'Yes, that's just how it is. I'm happy too when I step out of doors into the sunshine and see the trees in bloom and the flowers and the grass pushing up so fast, it can't be stopped like some teenager full of hormones! Dear old Chaucer was a man of much sense.'

'How you love your garden,' mused her father. He had given the garden over to her now Anne was gone. 'You're the Lady of the Plants, Emily.'

'I am the Lady of the Plants. That's a very good title. They're my babies, my plants are. I'll go and put these flowers in water.'

Emily stooped as he sat at the bench and gave him a kiss on the slightly balding patch just on top of his head. She liked to kiss him there and tease him that he was getting old.

'Do that and come and join me for a bit,' he replied catching at his daughter's arm as she wafted away from him and through the open French doors. Emily never walked; she always seemed to float. He had drunk his coffee and lit a cigarette by the time she returned.

'Darling, I have a problem,' he said as she sat down beside him with her mug of jasmine tea.

'What sort of problem, Dad?'

'There's some interesting new Bronze Age finds near Knossos. Barnaby Inchbold called me early this morning – very excited, as he always is! – and he has asked me to come over and help him with the dating and analysis of human skeletons and other items they are finding at the dig. I'd hate not to go.'

'So, what's the problem? Go!'

'I thought I'd ask Aunt Mary if you can stay there for a bit.'

Emily looked horrified, 'No, Dad, please don't. Aunt Mary's really kind. But ...'

'But you can't be yourself with her.'

'No. She makes me feel so uncomfortable. I don't feel real when I'm with her ...I have to pretend to be neat and tidy and ordinary. She thinks I need shaking up, I know she does. I can see it in her eyes. It makes me miserable.'

'You want to potter and dream and read endless books. Be free and merry and play in your enchanted garden. I know, darling, I know. Aunt Mary simply doesn't understand that it's fine for some of us to do just that. That having to work the minute you leave school and earn and save and be responsible isn't always what life should be about.'

'You understand things like that.'

'Your mother taught me,' sighed Martin. 'She taught me that life can be many things and not always rushing around in meaningless circles.'

'Yet, you still feel you have to. You don't feel free, do you, Dad?'

'Not really,' he said and sighed.

Emily had been watching him as his thoughts drifted away. She suddenly took his hand in hers.

'OK, it's really quite simple. You want to go. I know you're worried I'll do something silly if you go away.' She sighed and glanced over at the trees beyond as if seeing something there that other eyes could never see. 'But I think I'd be fine, honest, I do. I can look after myself. Nobody believes it, but I know I can. Anyway, I've a better idea. Why can't David and I come with you? We haven't been on holiday together for ages. And he said himself he hasn't a hope of getting that boring job he went after. I know I'll have to get a job sometime but oh, not yet! So while we're all free, let's go!'

The simplicity of this comment stunned him. 'I'm an i***t, of course that's the answer. Couldn't see the wood for the trees. It's not as if I haven't taken you both on digs before during your school holidays. Anne used to come with us then ...' his voice tailed away. Emily looked at him with sympathy and nodded.

He continued, 'I have a Greek friend, Savvas Souliotakis, who lives in Heraklion. He's a keen amateur archaeologist. He likes to come over and see what's going on. Also, he's a pretty wealthy guy with a string of fashionable hotels and finances a lot of our projects there. I feel sure he'd let us all stay with him at his villa in Heraklion. Would you like that – would you be comfortable, d'you think?'

Emily tensed at this remark, a sudden look of fear crossing her face. Martin watched her anxiously. She looked up at him after a while and smiled a little. 'I'm not sure, Dad. Are they nice people?'

'They're very nice, Emily.'

'Can't we just rent our own villa or something? I can cook. You know I can. Do we have to stay with people we don't know?'

'Darling, they are lovely people. You do need to mix more, you know that. Come on, it's your idea. Anyway, you needn't worry; no one will make you do anything you don't like. Take your paint box, swim in the sea, lie in the sun. It will be lovely there at this time of the year, the island covered in wildflowers, the orange groves still full of scented fruit. And you can come and see the dig ...you'll be interested in that, I know.'

Emily's eyes shone. 'I could go walking in the fields of flowers. And yes, do a lot of painting and writing and stuff. It does sound good.'

'I promise you'll love it there ...and you'll love Toula. She's a very kind lady. You're right – we haven't done anything as a family in a long while. It'll probably be the last time too,' he added with rueful smile. 'David's not of an age to come on holiday with us any more. But he might like this little break before he gets stuck into his studies.'

'Oh, I think he will come. As long as you're paying. He never misses a freebie.'

They both laughed. 'You reckon?' said Martin. 'Well, we'd better ask him. Thought I heard a stirring in the house. Is he up at last?'

Emily went to have a look and returned dragging by the arm a still slightly groggy David.

'Look ...what? I'm just about to have a shower,' he grumbled.

Martin outlined his plans to him. David looked a trifle dubious.

'I was planning to walk Snowdon with Adam next weekend. Can he come too?'

'Only if he's paying for himself. I'm always coughing up for your impecunious friends and I've had enough. You know, I'm pretty sure Savvas has a son a bit younger than you. If he's still around, you can haunt the clubs with him.'

David considered the idea of lying on beaches, chatting up the girls, swimming in the warm waters of the Aegean and studying the marine life at first hand. Hard work loomed ahead and an extra break, even if it was only for a month, would be delightful. 'Sounds okay, I guess,' was the verdict.

'Maybe I'll try learning some Greek,' said Emily who found languages interesting. She had a remarkable ability to open a book and look at the page and memorise things in a visual manner.

'Yes, why not?' Martin said, smiling at her.

'I'll get by with the language of love,' grinned her brother, 'I might just learn to say – "saggy po" or something – is that "I love you"? Or something even better?'

'Behave yourself,' said his father. 'You'll have some angry Cretan father chasing you with a shotgun!'

'Don't worry, I'll stick to the Germans and Swedes,' said his son. 'My German and French are pretty good and I know all the seduction words. Girls on holiday ...very nice!'