“What are you talking about?”

  “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

  There was a slight pause. Jason’s face was a sight to behold—like witnessing a car crash in slow motion. Caught between these two women, this was about to end badly for him. Unless he managed somehow to prevent it.

  What Jason did next would be most revealing. Barbara West once told me an old writing trick—where you give currency to a specific person, or object, by including them in a choice between two alternatives. What you are prepared to give up for something tells us everything about how much you value it.

  Jason had a clear choice here—between Kate and Lana. We were about to discover—if we were in any doubt—whom he valued the most.

  Barbara would have loved this, I thought. Just the kind of situation she’d steal and put into a book.

  Thinking of Barbara made me smile—which was unfortunate, as I realized Jason was staring at me, a look of fury on his face. “What the fuck? You think this is funny, you evil prick?”

  “Me?” I laughed. “I think I’m the least of your problems, mate.”

  At this, Jason lost his temper. He leaped toward me, lunging at me, grabbing me by the throat. He pinned me to the wall, raised his first—like he was going to punch me in the face.

  “Stop it! Stop it.” Kate was pummeling his back. “Leave him alone! Jason—”

  Eventually, Jason let me go. I caught my breath and adjusted my collar with all the dignity I could muster.

  “Feel better now?”

  Jason didn’t reply. He glared at me. Then, remembering his priorities, he turned around—to appeal to Lana.

  “Lana. Listen—”

  But Lana wasn’t there. She had gone.

  16

  Nikos was in his cottage, sitting in the armchair by the fireplace. He was drinking ouzo and listening to the wind outside.

  He liked listening to the wind, in all its different moods. Tonight, it was in a rage. Other nights, it groaned like an old man in pain; or wailed like a small child lost in the storm. Sometimes, Nikos could convince himself it was a girl outside, lost in the gale, crying. He’d step out and look into the night, into the dark—just to be sure. But it was always the wind, playing tricks.

  He poured himself another ouzo. He was a little drunk; his mind as cloudy as the ouzo in his glass. He leaned back in his chair and thought about Lana. He imagined what it would be like if she lived here, on Aura, with him. This was a favorite fantasy of his.

  He felt sure Lana would be happy here. She always came alive on the island—it was like a light shone from inside her the moment she got off the boat. And if she were here, Lana could rescue him from his solitude. She would be like rain falling on parched earth; a cool drink of water, to quench his dry salty lips.

  Nikos shut his eyes, drifting into an erotic daydream. He imagined waking up at dawn, in bed with Lana—she was facing him, her golden hair spread over the pillow … how soft it was, how sweet she smelled, like orange blossom. He’d take her smooth body into his arms, nuzzle her neck, kiss her skin. He’d press his lips against her mouth.…

  Nikos was half-aroused, half-drunk, half-asleep—and thought he was dreaming when he opened his eyes … and there she was.

  Lana.

  Nikos blinked. He sat up, suddenly wide-awake.

  Lana was standing there, in the doorway. She was there, in reality, not his imagination. She looked beautiful, dressed all in white. She looked like a goddess. But a sad goddess. A frightened one.

  “Nikos,” Lana said in a whisper. “I need your help.”

  17

  Jason, Kate, and I were left alone in the living room. I waited to see who would speak first. It was Kate, sounding chastened.

  “Jason. Can we talk?” Her voice had an emptiness. Her anger had gone, burned out—nothing left but ashes. “Jason?”

  Jason glanced at Kate—and looked right through her. A chilling look, I thought. As if she didn’t exist. He turned and walked out of the room.

  Kate suddenly looked like a little girl, about to burst into tears. I felt sorry for her, despite myself.

  “Do you want a drink?”

  Kate gave a brief shake of the head. “No.”

  “I’m making you one anyway.”

  I went to the drinks cabinet and made us a couple of drinks. I made small talk about the weather, to give Kate a chance to pull herself together. But I could tell she wasn’t listening.

  I held out the glass in front of her for a good twenty seconds before she saw it.

  “Thanks.” Kate took the drink, absently placing it on the table in front of her. She reached for her cigarettes.

  I rubbed my neck. It was sore from where Jason had grabbed it. I frowned. “You know, Kate, you really should have come to me. I could have put you straight. I could have warned you.”

  “Warned me? About what?”

  “He will not leave Lana for you. Don’t delude yourself.”

  “I’m not deluding myself.” Kate tapped the unlit cigarette violently against the table. She planted it in her mouth and lit it.

  “I think you are.”

  “You know fuck all about it.”

  Kate smoked for a moment—I noticed her hand was trembling. Then she suddenly stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. “The question is”—she turned on me, with a spark of her old anger—“why do you care? Why are you so invested in Lana’s marriage? Even if they split up, she’s hardly going to marry you.”

  Kate was joking. But then she saw the flicker of hurt in my eyes. She gasped. “Oh, my God. Is that what you think? You really think … that you and Lana—?”

  Kate couldn’t finish her sentence—she was overcome by laughter. Unkind, mocking laughter.

  I waited until she had stopped laughing. Then I said, coolly, “I’m trying to help. That’s all.”

  “No, no, you’re not.” Kate shook her head. “Can’t fool me, Machiavelli. But you’ll get your comeuppance in the end. Just you wait.”

  I ignored this. I was determined that she hear me. It was important.

  “I mean it, Kate. Don’t put Jason in a position where he has to choose between you. You’ll regret it.”

  “Fuck off.”

  But her rebuke was only half-hearted—her mind was clearly on Jason. Her eyes were on the door.

  Then she made a sudden decision. She got up and hurried out.

  * * *

  Alone in the living room, I tried to imagine what might happen next.

  Kate had obviously gone to find Jason. But Jason wasn’t interested in Kate—he had made that quite clear just now.

  Jason’s priority was Lana. He would try to win her back. He’d comfort her; reassure her that nothing was going between him and Kate. He’d lie, insist upon on his innocence, and swear he had never been unfaithful.

  And Lana? What would she do? That was the key question. Everything hinged on it.

  I tried to picture the scene. Where were they? On the beach, perhaps? No, by the ruin—a more romantic setting—a midnight meeting by the moonlit columns. I had a sense of how Lana might play it. Come to think of it, I felt sure I had seen her play a similar role in one of her movies. She would be stoic and self-sacrificing—what better way to appeal to her leading man’s better instincts? To his sense of honor and duty?

  She’d give Jason a chilly reception at first, then slowly allow her reserve to weaken. She wouldn’t admonish him. No, she’d blame herself—fighting tears as she spoke; she was good at that.

  Finally, she would gaze at Jason with her special look; the one she saved for close-ups: widening those huge hypnotic eyes, vulnerable, full of pain, yet tremendously brave—“mugging for camera,” Barbara West called it—but extremely effective.

  Before he knew it, Jason would be bewitched, swept along by Lana’s performance, on his knees, begging for forgiveness, promising to be a better man—and meaning it. Kate would fade into the background of his mind. The end.

  For one desperate moment, I thought about running to find Lana and Jason myself—and trying to intervene. But, no. I had to have faith in Lana.

  After all, it was entirely possible she might surprise me.

  18

  “Well?” Lana said. “Will you do it?”

  Nikos stared at her, astounded. He couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of Lana’s mouth—or what she had just asked him to do.

  He felt unable to reply, so he didn’t.

  “What do you want?” she said.

  Again, no reply.

  Lana reached behind her neck and undid the chain of diamonds. She coiled it in her palm. She held out the sparkling pile of stones.

  “Take this. Sell it. Buy whatever you want.” Reading his mind in that way of hers, she added, “A boat. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You can buy a boat with this.”

  Nikos still didn’t reply.

  Lana frowned. “Are you insulted? Don’t be. It’s a fair exchange. Tell me what you want, to do what I ask.”

  He wasn’t listening. All Nikos could think of was how beautiful she was. Before he knew it, the words came out of his mouth:

  “Kiss me.”

  Lana looked at him as if she hadn’t heard. “What?”

  Nikos didn’t reply.

  Lana searched his eyes, confused. “I don’t understand—that’s it? That’s your price?”

  He didn’t reply. He didn’t speak or move. He just stood there.

  There was a pause.

  Then Lana took a small step forward. Their faces were inches apart. They looked into each other’s eyes. Lana had never noticed his eyes before. They had a kind of beauty, she realized; a clear blue light. A crazy thought popped into her head: I should have married Nikos. Then I could have lived here and been happy.

  Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his mouth.

  As they kissed, Nikos, who was dried-up inside, caught fire—and was engulfed. He had never known a feeling like this. He would never be the same, he knew that.

  “I’ll do it,” he whispered, between kisses. “I’ll do what you want.”

  * * *

  Lana left Nikos’s cottage and made her way along the path. She walked through the olive grove and into the clearing, to the ruin.

  The ruin was sheltered from the worst of the wind by thickset olive trees that surrounded it. Lana sat on a broken column for a moment. She closed her eyes and sat there, deep in thought.

  Then, in the undergrowth, behind her, a twig snapped underfoot. Lana opened her eyes and turned her head to see who it was.

  Three gunshots rang out.

  Moments later, Lana lay on the ground, in a pool of blood.

  19

  Leo was the first to arrive at the ruin. He was followed by Agathi—then Jason and I appeared.

  As we gathered around Lana’s body, time seemed to stop for a moment. It held us suspended—while all around us everything moved. The wind swirled and screamed, the trees swayed; while we stood still, frozen, held in a timeless state, unable to think or feel.

  It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity—until Kate appeared and broke the spell. She looked disoriented and confused. Her expression changed from confusion to disbelief, to horror.

  “What happened?” she kept saying. “My God—”

  Somehow her arrival spurred us into action. I knelt by Leo. “We need to lay her down. Leo? You have to let her go—”

  Leo rocked her back and forth, crying. I tried to coax him to let go of her. “Come on, Leo, please—”

  “Put her down, Leo,” Jason said. Losing patience, he made a sudden movement toward him.

  Leo reacted as if he’d been bitten by a snake. He screamed at Jason, his bloodstained face a horrible sight. “Get away from her! Get away!”

  Jason was startled and backed down. “Just put her on the ground, for Christ’s sake.”

  I threw Jason an exasperated look. “I’ll deal with him. Call an ambulance!”

  Jason nodded, feeling in his pockets for his phone. He found it and unlocked it—thrusting it into Agathi’s hands. “Call the station in Mykonos. Say we need an ambulance—and the police. They need to be here now!”

  Agathi nodded, dazed. “Yes, yes—”

  “I’m going to get a gun. Wait here. Don’t move.”

  With that, Jason started running back to the house. Kate hesitated, then ran after him.

  Agathi and I managed to get Leo to relinquish Lana’s body. We carefully laid her on the ground. Leo looked up with wide eyes. He spoke in a strangled voice.

  “The guns.”

  “What?”

  But Leo was already up—and running after the others.

  20

  Kate hurried into the house. She looked around but couldn’t see Jason anywhere.

  “Jason?” she whispered. “Jason—”

  Suddenly, he appeared—emerging from the gun room. He stared at her, with a strange, confused look on his face. “They’ve gone.”

  Kate didn’t know what he meant. “What?”

  “The guns. They’re not there.”

  “What do you mean? Where are they?”

  “I don’t fucking know. Someone’s taken them.”

  They heard footsteps at the end of the corridor. They looked up.

  Leo was standing there, staring at them. He was a frightening sight—covered in blood, wild, wretched. He looked out of his mind.

  “The guns,” Leo said. “I—”

  Jason tensed up. “What?”

  “I moved them. I hid them. It was meant to be a joke, I—”

  But Jason was already on him—grabbing hold of him. “Where are they? Tell me!”

  “Jason, let him go!” Kate said.

  “Where are the guns?”

  “Let him go!”

  Jason released him, and Leo sank to the floor, against the wall, weeping, hugging his knees.

  “She’s dead!” Leo screamed. “Don’t you even care?”

  He covered his face with his hands. Kate went over to him and pulled him into her arms. “Darling, shh, shh. Please—tell us. Where are the guns?”

  Leo raised one hand and pointed at the wooden chest. “In there.”

  Jason charged up to the chest. He threw open the lid.

  He scowled. “Is this a joke?”

  “What?” Leo got up and made his way over. He looked inside.

  The chest was empty.

  Leo was astonished. “But—I put them there—”

  “When?”

  “Before dinner. Someone’s moved them.”

  “Who? Why would anyone do that?”

  Kate frowned as something occurred to her. “Where’s Nikos?”

  “I am here,” said a voice behind them.

  They spun around. Nikos was standing in the doorway. He was holding a gun.

  There was a slight pause, then Jason said guardedly, “Lana’s been shot.”

  Nikos nodded. “Yes, I know.”

  Jason glanced at the gun in Nikos’s hand. “Where did you get that?”

  “This is my gun.”

  “Are you sure? All mine are missing.”

  Nikos shrugged. “It is mine.”

  Jason held out his hand. “Well, you better give it to me.”

  Nikos shook his head—a definite no. Jason decided not to press him for it. Instead, he said slowly and emphatically, “We need to search the island. Do you understand? There’s an intruder. He is armed and dangerous. We need to find him.”

  Then I entered—the bearer of bad tidings. I didn’t know how to say it; so I just came out with it.

  “Agathi spoke to the police in Mykonos.”

  Jason looked up. “And? When are they getting here?”

  “They’re not.”

  “What?”

  “They’re not coming. It’s the wind. They can’t get a boat across.”

  Kate stared at me. Her face tightened. “But they have to—they must—”

  “They said it’ll calm down by dawn.… They’ll try then.”

  “But—that’s in five hours.”

  “I know.” I nodded. “Until then, we’re on our own.”

  21

  It was decided that Jason, Nikos, and I should search the island for an intruder. I told them it was a waste of time.

  “That’s madness. You seriously think someone landed here—in this weather? That’s impossible!”

  “What other option is there?” Jason glared at me. “Someone’s here, and we’re going to find him. Now move.”

  And so, armed with battery-powered flashlights, we ventured into the night.

  We began patrolling the path through the olive grove, shining our beams into the dark. The olive trees were thickset, revealing only spiderwebs and birds’ nests.

  As we walked, Jason kept glancing at the gun in Nikos’s hand. Jason clearly didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust either of them with a gun, to be honest—I kept as close an eye on them as they kept on each other.

  We made our way to the coast and began to search the beaches. This was an arduous task, with the wind attacking us as we walked. The fury was relentless, slashing our faces, hurling sand at us; screaming in our ears, shoving us off-balance every chance it got. But we persevered, and it took us a little over an hour, following the dirt path that snaked around the perimeter of the island, rising and falling along the shoreline.

  Finally, we reached the north side of the island: a sheer cliff face, dropping down to the water below—where it was impossible for anyone to moor a boat; and there was nowhere to hide among the bare rocks.

  At last, what I said earlier now became apparent to the others. There was no boat; no intruder.

  No one else was on this island.

  No one, but the six of us.

  22