A Handful of Pebbles by Sara Alexi Read Free Book Online

little fingernail, sings against the surrounding green leaves, and under the petals is a bee-shaped lip patterned in yellow and a very dark red.
    ‘ I can see where they get their name from.’ Sarah bends to look more closely, aware of the closing distance between them.
    ‘ The plant produces a scent similar to that of the female bee, which attracts the male bee to copulate with it, ensuring pollination.’ He lets the gorse fall and they both straighten.
    Sarah is lost for words; any reply could be awkward. She steps back to the track , saying nothing.
    ‘ Greece is a good place for flowers.’ He begins to stroll on. ‘The carnation is another flower that grows very well here.’
    ‘ Look ...’ Sarah pauses to consider how she is going to phrase what she needs to say. ‘You obviously want me to say something about the flower last night. I don’t think "thank you" is appropriate, nor honest, as I don’t thank you. With my husband sitting right next to me, it could have been a lot more awkward than it was. And while we are on the subject, I would like you to explain how you knew I would be here today. It makes me wonder if I am safe.’ She widens the gap between them.
    ‘ Sorry?’ He chortles and stops walking, his hand raising to his jaw, his fingers rubbing, feeling the stubble.
    ‘ Last night, the flower?’
    ‘ What flower?’
    She looks him in the face , searching for sincerity, the heat rising on her neck, reaching her cheeks. Maybe it really was Stella. But even if he didn’t give her the flower, it doesn’t explain him lying in wait for her today.
    ‘ The flower at the taverna?’ she says.
    ‘ Oh, did you get one from the chef?’
    ‘ What?’ Sarah replays the events in her head, the waiter’s pointing finger, past the large woman, past Stella, to the window and his knees. But the picture continues through the empty taverna to the kitchen door. ‘The chef?’ It is more of an exhalation than words.
    ‘ My guess is you sent him your compliments?’ He is giggling to himself now. ‘Five a night he gives out, keeps people coming back and the restaurant full.’ His smiling eyes seem to mock her, or is she being uncharitable? He begins to stroll on, giving Sarah some space. All she can hear are the goats munching and a rushing in her ears. Her cheeks feel on fire. She watches the sheep gnawing the scant grass back to the soil, the goats, their front feet tapping against the bark as they stretch up the trunks to graze on the tops of bushes and foliage beyond the sheeps’ reach.
    How much easier life must be as a goat : mindless, unaccountable and with no ability to form words and dig themselves into bottomless ditches. Bliss, to roam these hills all day doing nothing but eating. Her stomach rumbles, reminding her that she has not had breakfast.
    He is further along the path , waiting for her. She would rather go back and deal with Neville than face this man now, but to turn and walk away would be to add insult on top of injury. She cannot do it.
    ‘ Look.’ He is pointing through a break in the tree branches. She doesn’t quicken her pace. He lowers his hand and waits until she has caught up. ‘Look,’ he repeats, pointing again. Beyond the trees, the fields stretch out across the plain and one burns bright orange, on fire with light.
    ‘ Oh my goodness, is it a fire? Should we call the firemen?’ Her hand goes to her throat, her blunders forgotten in view of the potential disaster.
    ‘ No, it’s a photovoltaic field.’ He puts both hands in his dark serge farmer’s trousers, his beads clicking in his pocket.
    ‘ It’s what?’
    ‘ Photovoltaic, solar panels, electricity,’ he summarises. ‘We are just at the right angle to see the sun reflecting off the panels. Impressive, isn’t it? Only at this time of day is it so.’ He sighs contentedly.
    Apart from feeling a little silly that she thought the field was on fire , Sarah is just glad the focus has moved on from her earlier