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Ella had been horribly hurt, but she had tried to understand that Susie had felt threatened by her sibling’s genetic input to her newborn baby. She had written to her sister in an effort to reassure her, but her letters had gone unacknowledged. In despair at the rift that had opened up, she had gone to see Timon when he was in London on business. Timon had admitted ruefully that his wife was eaten up with insecurity over Ella’s role in the conception of their daughter. Ella had prayed that the passage of time would soothe Susie’s concerns but, seventeen months after Callie’s birth, Timon and Susie had died in a horrific car crash. And, as a final footnote, the young couple had been dead almost two weeks before anyone had thought to let Ella know, so that she hadn’t even got to attend the funeral.
When Ella had finally found out that her only sister was dead, she’d felt terrifyingly alone—and not for the first time in recent years. Her father had died shortly after she was born, so she had never known him, and Jane, her mother, had married Theo Sardelos six years later. Ella had never got on with her stepfather, who was a Greek businessman. Theo liked women to be seen rather than heard, and he had turned his back on Ella in angry disgust when she’d refused to marry Aristandros Xenakis. The emotionally fragile Jane had never been known to oppose her dictatorial husband, so there had been no point appealing to her for support. Ella’s twin half-brothers had sided with their father, and Susie had refused to get involved.
Ella sat down at the piano and lifted the lid. She often took refuge in music when she was at the mercy of her emotions, and had just embarked on playing an étude by Liszt when the phone rang. She got up to answer the call and froze in the middle of the room once she realised that she was talking to a member of Aristandros’s personal staff. She made no attempt to protest when she was asked to travel to Southampton the following week to meet him on board his new yacht, Hellenic Lady; she was simply overwhelmingly relieved that he was actually willing to see her.
Yet Ella could not imagine seeing Aristandros Xenakis again, and when Lily returned from work her friend was quick to tackle her once she realised what she was planning to do.
‘What is the point of you upsetting yourself like this?’ Lily asked bluntly, her vivacious face unusually serious beneath her curly brown hair
‘I would just like to see Callie,’ Ella breathed tightly.
‘Stop lying to yourself. You want much more than that. You want to be her parent, and what are your chances of Aristandros Xenakis agreeing to that?’
A stony expression stamped Ella’s delicate features. ‘Well, why not? How is he planning to continue partying with a baby of eighteen months?’
‘He’ll just pay people to look after her. He’s as rich as that fabled king who touched things and turned them to solid gold,’ Lily reminded her doggedly. ‘And the first thing he’s likely to ask you is what has his business to do with you?’
Ella paled; a streak of determined optimism had persuaded her to overlook certain realities, like Ari’s hardline attitudes and probable hostility towards her. ‘Someone needs to look out for Callie’s interests.’
‘Who had more right than her parents? But you’re questioning their decision that the child should go to him. Sorry, I’m playing devil’s advocate here,’ Lily explained ruefully.
‘Susie was hopelessly impressed by the Xenakis wealth,’ Ella confided. ‘But money shouldn’t be the only bottom line when it comes to bringing up a child.’
‘It’s the size of a cruise ship!’ Ella’s taxi driver exclaimed while he leant out at his vehicle’s window to scan the immense, sleek length and the towering decks of the white mega-yacht Hellenic Lady.
‘Absolutely huge,’ Ella agreed breathlessly, paying him and climbing out on to the quay. She smoothed damp palms down over the trousers of the elegant brown trouser-suit which she usually wore for interviews.
A young man in a smart suit advanced on her. ‘Dr Smithson?’ he queried, a good deal of curiosity in his measuring gaze. ‘I’m Philip. I work for Mr Xenakis. Please, come this way.’
Philip was as informative as a travel rep escorting tourists. Hellenic Lady, he told her, was brand-new, built in Germany to Aristandros’s exact specifications and about to make her maiden voyage to the Caribbean. As they boarded, various members of the crew greeted them. Philip ushered her into a lift while telling her about the on-board submarine and helicopters. Ella remained defiantly unimpressed until the doors slid back on the upstairs lounge, and her jaw almost dropped at the space, the opulence and the breathtaking panoramic views through the windows.
