Greek Tycoon, Wayward Wife(38)

Libby’s eyes fluttered down to meet her cheeks. Whilst you grew up in the log-fire warmth of Ashworth Manor, she added to herself, knowing that was what he was thinking and suddenly racked with guilt for ever bemoaning her upbringing. Was that why he’d always coveted the house where he lived now? Not because it was the most luxurious in Metameikos but because it was the perfect family home?

‘We took him to hospital, where we were told to wait,’ Rion continued, his voice loaded with bitterness. ‘And we waited. Whilst every other patient, no matter how trivial their condition, nor what time they’d arrived, was seen before us. On the third day Jason was the only one left in the waiting room. But the doctors still refused to see him.’

Libby winced as the grossly inappropriate sound of laughter from the party drifted over the wall.

‘They wanted their palms greased. Believed, I suppose, that my mother would find the money.’ He shook his head. ‘She worked day and night for a pittance, just to be able to feed and clothe us. She had nothing to give but a few coins and a mother’s love, and no friends or relatives with anything more.’ A look of pain began to cloud Rion’s eyes. ‘In her desperation she did the only thing she could think of. She went to Spyros’s father—the leader of Metameikos at the time—to beg for help.’ The look of torment was instantly replaced by one of loathing. ‘He told her that life, like everything else, had a price. He was right. Jason died right there in the waiting room.’

Libby’s heart twisted in empathy. She wanted to go to him and wrap her arms around him, but he was looking at her as if there was no way she could ever understand. And in a way maybe she couldn’t.

‘My mother almost died of grief,’ he went on. ‘I believe that was what killed her in the end, but it would have happened ten years earlier if we’d stayed here. Eurycleia’s husband worked on the docks; he helped us stow away to England.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Libby whispered, but the words had never seemed more inadequate. She was sorry for so much: that he’d been through all that; that her assumptions about why he was doing this had been so far off the mark; that she hadn’t given him her support when his motives were so admirable.

Rion looked at her resentfully. ‘I don’t want your pity, Libby.’

No, she could tell he didn’t want her to know, full-stop. Yet wasn’t it obvious that if he had explained the real reason he wanted to win this election from the start she would have automatically wanted to help him succeed?

Yes, she thought, it probably was, but he clearly found the prospect of her staying because she felt sorry for him abhorrent. Just like the prospect of winning this election for the same reason, she realised suddenly. Spyros knew about Jason because of his father, but no one else did, did they? If they did, Rion would have no need to convince them of his commitment to family values, to Metameikos—but he’d chosen to avoid the sympathy vote.

‘You don’t have my pity,’ she whispered, needing him to believe that her support had nothing to do with that and everything to do with believing in justice, believing in him. The corners of her mouth turned downwards. ‘Are you telling me this kind of thing is still happening here now?’

He spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Spyros Junior has had to get more subtle about it, but the divide between rich and poor is as wide as it ever was.’

‘I had no idea.’ How naïve her idealistic view of the old town had been, how small-minded to think that indifference was responsible for his reticence. She shook her head, ashamed. ‘I thought that you just wanted the power…the success.’

‘And now you know it’s about the street urchin wanting his revenge?’

Libby stared at him. But it wasn’t that, was it? He could have exacted his vengeance on the doctors or on the Spyros family in any number of ways, but he’d decided to take the high road, to make things better for the next generation.

Suddenly they were interrupted by the sound of something metal being chinked against something glass on the other side of the wall, then a hushed silence, which was followed by a loud voice.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, Mayor Tsamis will be giving the traditional toast to the candidates in the main hall in five minutes.’

Immediately the shutters came up on Rion’s face. ‘I need to go.’

Of course he did. As Libby watched him turn on his heel, without even glancing back to see whether she had any intention of joining him, she knew she needed to go too. Not away from here, but inside, with him. Because the freedom he stood for was the very thing she’d spent her whole life fighting for.