The Olive Tree by Lucinda Riley Read Free Book Online

staring at me. I thought it was you . . . how silly . . . he
looks so like you.’
    ‘You mean he looks like I
did
.’
    ‘Yes. Yes.’
    They lapsed into silence for a while.
    ‘So, how are you, Helena?’ he ventured. ‘How has your life been all these years?’
    ‘It’s been . . . good, yes, good.’
    ‘You are married?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I know you have children, Helena, because I have already met your son and heard about your daughter.’
    ‘I have three, but my little boy, Fred, is at home in England with his father. They’re joining us here in a few days’ time. You?’
    ‘I was married, to Maria, the daughter of the old mayor here in Kathikas. She gave me two boys, but died in a car accident when Michel, my second son, was eight. So now, we three men live
together and harvest our grapes and produce our wine, like my father and grandfather and great-grandfather before us.’
    ‘I’m so sorry, Alexis. How absolutely awful for you.’ Helena heard the triteness of her words, but couldn’t think what else to say.
    ‘God gives and he takes away, and at least my boys came out of it alive. And Dimitrios, whom you saw in the vines, is about to be married, so the generations continue.’
    ‘Yes. I . . . So little seems to have changed here.’
    Alexis’ expressive face moulded into a frown. ‘No, much has changed in Cyprus, as it has everywhere. But this is progress. Some of it is good, and some not so good. A few becoming
very rich, and greedy, as always, for more. Yet here in Kathikas – for the present at least – we are an oasis. But the developers’ greedy fingers will one day stretch into our
fertile land. They have already started to try.’
    ‘I’m sure they have. It’s such a perfect spot.’
    ‘Yes. And don’t imagine that everyone in our village will resist the temptation, especially the young. They want their fast cars and their satellite dishes and the American way of
life they see on their televisions. And why shouldn’t they? We too wanted more, Helena. So, let us move on and stop sounding like our parents,’ he chuckled.
    ‘We
are
our parents, Alexis.’
    ‘Then let us be the children we were, just for now.’ He reached for her hand, just as Alex emerged onto the terrace.
    Helena drew her hand away, but knew her son had seen it.
    ‘Where’s Immy?’ he demanded rudely.
    ‘In the kitchen, I think. Alex, you’ve met Alexis already.’
    ‘We have the same name. It means “defender and protector of the people”,’ smiled Alexis congenially.
    ‘I know. Mum, I hope Immy hasn’t wandered off while you weren’t looking. You know what she’s like.’
    ‘I’m sure she hasn’t. Why don’t you go and find her, and bring her out to meet Alexis? And put the kettle on, please. I’m desperate for a cup of tea.’ Helena
sank into a chair, feeling emotionally drained.
    Alex eyed her defiantly, then turned to walk away inside.
    ‘He is a good-looking boy,’ remarked Alexis. ‘Well built.’
    Helena sighed. ‘He is . . . unusual, that’s for sure. And brilliant, and exasperating, and difficult and . . . oh, I love him to bits,’ she said with a weary smile.
‘Perhaps one day I’ll tell you about him.’
    ‘Perhaps, one day, we will tell each other about many things,’ Alexis said quietly.
    ‘Here she is.’ Alex led a tear-stained Immy onto the terrace. ‘She was being chased around the kitchen by a large stripy hornet thing. With a killer sting, probably,’ he
added.
    ‘Oh darling, why didn’t you call me?’ Helena opened her arms and Immy ran to her.
    ‘I did, but you didn’t come. Alex saved me. A bit.’
    ‘She is so like you, Helena. She is, how do you say . . . your double,’ Alexis smiled.
    ‘I call her MiniMum. Get it, Alexis?’ Alex barked. ‘No, probably not. Never mind.’
    ‘Would you like some tea, Alexis? I’ll go and make it,’ Helena butted in to defuse the situation.
    ‘Yes, please. Why not share the English passion for a hot drink