Greek Island Escape

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Greek Island Escape Page 26

by Patricia Wilson


  ‘All right then. But get the men shifted out of here – I don’t want them near her in this situation. Let me know how she is when you’ve examined her, and if there’s any change.’

  Thunder cracked outside, and lightning lit up the ward as the storm raged on. The colonel stared at the window for a moment, then turned and left.

  *

  We moved our four male patients into the operating room next door. They had almost recovered from their injuries but, if we could, we always kept patients in until we needed the bed space. We knew what we would be sending them back to.

  ‘Write a note for Markos, Sofia,’ Thina whispered. ‘Tell him the baby’s on its way. Perhaps he can get in here tonight or in the morning.’

  A surge of excitement rushed through me. Despite the horror around us, my child – our child – was about to be born. I started writing a long love letter to Markos, begging him to come. My heart was breaking. Tears fell onto the paper as I pleaded with him to accept the junta’s creed and sign their paper renouncing communism.

  Thina and I helped Mrs Despotakis out of most of her clothes and onto the examination table. She seemed a kind woman, although small, fine-boned and rather timid.

  Thina placed one end of the Pinard horn to Anna’s full belly and her ear to the other, as she had often done to me, to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. Her eyes met mine and she looked away quickly. She replaced the horn with her stethoscope, and after listening again, returned to the desk. Anna watched her intently.

  ‘Is everything all right, nurse?’ she asked me quietly. ‘I haven’t felt any movement for a few days now.’

  ‘Don’t worry, that’s normal. There’s no room, you see.’

  She breathed in deeply. ‘My previous two were stillborn,’ she told me, tears coming into her eyes, ‘and this is my last chance. I’m desperate for everything to turn out well.’

  I removed the blood pressure cuff from her arm and patted her shoulder.

  ‘I’m sure everything will be fine. Don’t worry.’

  Thina came over with a syringe. ‘I’m just going to give you an injection to help with your vitamins, Anna. We need you to be healthy for the delivery, don’t we?’ She tapped the vein in Anna’s wrist. ‘And a little gel to keep your uterus in peak condition. Just pull your knees up. Now relax.’

  I watched, interested in the procedure.

  ‘Right, all done. Now, I want you to take a mild sedative, to give you and baby a good night’s sleep, Anna.’

  Thina left the bedside and returned with a couple of tablets and a glass of water.

  Just as she returned, I felt a clench deep inside me. My first real contraction.

  Thina glanced at my face and knew.

  ‘Can I have a word at the desk, nurse, when you have a moment?’ she said.

  I couldn’t walk for a minute, and pretended to take Anna’s pulse until the overpowering feeling faded. Then I pulled the screen around Anna’s bed and followed Thina across the room.

  Thina moved her head close to mine. ‘Look, I’ve just realised: Anna’s husband, the colonel, is the junta officer who rules the prison. Her baby’s due a couple of weeks after yours, Sofia.’ Thina shook her head sadly. ‘There’s no heartbeat,’ she said in a low whisper. ‘The baby’s dead in the womb. Poor woman. She’s forty, lost babies before . . . and with her medical history, there’s no chance of another child. Also, her blood pressure’s up. We should abort the baby as soon as possible. There’s a chance of eclampsia, and then Anna might die too.’ She glanced at the screen. ‘I’ve induced her labour. It’s her third confinement, so she shouldn’t be too long.’

  ‘She doesn’t know, does she?’

  Thina shook her head. ‘I’m not going to tell her just yet. I want to talk to you first.’

  I stared at Thina for a moment. She was biting her lip, a new light in her eyes.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I was thinking, at least we could get your baby out of here. You’re about to give birth, and I can induce her labour with a shot. If we get the timing right, we can swap the infants.’

  I stared at her. ‘Are you mad?’

  ‘Keep your voice down. Think about it, Sofia!’ she said urgently. ‘It may be the only chance you get to give your child freedom. I don’t believe Markos will ever abandon his fight, and deep down you don’t either. You won’t leave here without him, will you? And what sort of a life will your child have on the island? Can you imagine stitching a name tag to its little chest, for God’s sake? They’ll take your baby away from you, and you’ll never know what’s happening to it. It’s atrocious, the things they do here.’

  I cowered as another contraction loomed and faded.

  ‘You’re condemning him or her to this hellish prison. Your child deserves freedom, an education, parents who can afford to take care of him properly.’

  I stared, not wanting to consider her suggestion. Thina’s words were all the more shocking because I knew they were true. I had to admit that I would not leave the island so long as Markos remained a captive of the colonels in Korydallos Prison, and I knew he would never truly turn his back on the cause that meant the world to him.

  ‘Sofia, listen to me!’ Thina whispered. ‘I’m risking my life for you. I could be shot for this, but I don’t want to see a child born into this hellhole. I’ve heard that things have improved back home. The colonels may be hated, but they’ve brought some stability to Greece. There’s work, there’s food – people are going back to the type of life they had before the war.’ She put her fists on her hips and continued. ‘There’s a storm raging out there.’ She nodded towards the high window. ‘They say it’ll last for three days or more, so the doctor’s stuck in Athens with his supplies, and Anna’s staying here for her confinement.’ She paused, giving me time to consider the facts. ‘Don’t you see, Sofia? This could be your only chance. It must be God’s will. At least think about it.’ She touched my arm. ‘The Fates appear to be on your side. They’ve given you this opportunity to get your baby out of here and into a better life.’

  I sat on the stool behind the desk, my knees apart, my swollen belly between my thighs. This life inside me was the only blameless thing coming from my turbulent past. A child, born of love, innocent and pure. I recalled all the horror I had seen here – the pain, torture, grown men crying for their loved ones. Did I want my baby to experience this hell on earth? I reached for Thina’s stethoscope, put the buds in my ears and the diaphragm on my belly. My baby’s heart beat quickly, with an urgency only known to him or her.

  To hear my baby’s pulse, beating much faster than my own, independent and unique, was the deciding factor. That heart must continue to flourish inside my baby, my child, my adult son or daughter. No matter how independent my baby became, part of it would always be me, and part of me would always be it.

  CHAPTER 32

  ZOË

  Manchester, present day.

  ZOË SAT ALONE IN THE station café and watched Dalip as he left. This stranger had given her hope. Although life was irreversible, the future was open to change if Zoë chose to instigate it. She would go back to London, make sure Josh understood how much she loved him, and then she would talk to Frank about Megan, find out if he knew more than she did about why their daughter had left home.

  She walked out onto the platform and saw the next train to London would arrive in fifteen minutes. She wondered where Megan was at that moment and suddenly remembered Centrepoint. Perhaps the day staff had seen her.

  She gave them a call.

  ‘My name’s Pam,’ a woman said after Zoë had explained the situation. ‘Yes, your daughter was here yesterday. She was getting some things together for her trip to Crete. She had a ticket booked for yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘Crete! She’s really gone to Crete!’

  ‘Yes, she had a last-minute flight. Said she was going to visit her grandmother.’

  Zoë’s heart plummeted. Poor Megan didn’t know Mama had died. Her da
ughter was heading for such heartbreaking disappointment. She returned her attention to Pam.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

  ‘Please keep in touch. We always hope to hear of a happy ending.’

  ‘I will, I promise.’

  Zoë hung up, watched the London train pull in and decided she was going to Crete. It was impossible to keep trying to divide herself between her children, searching for Megan while feeling the guilt of abandoning Josh. But in the end, this might be her last chance to find her daughter.

  She would tell Megan about her grandmother, and they would go to the cemetery together, supporting each other in their grief. Zoë felt her jaw stiffen. She hadn’t had a moment to mourn her own mother. She missed her terribly, but even that heartbreak had been overshadowed by her desperation to find Megan.

  She remembered seeing a travel agent opposite the station and hurried towards it.

  *

  Outside the shop, Zoë checked the time and realised Josh would be on his break. She called him. He didn’t answer – his choice of weapon – and she understood he was still hurting, so she sent a text.

  Need to speak to you, URGENT, need your help. Love you. Mum XXX

  She waited five minutes, then called again, determined to get him on her side, determined to make him realise she was on his side.

  ‘Hi, Mum,’ he said flatly. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Hello, darling, how was Formula 1?’ She projected warmth into her voice. ‘Did you enjoy it? I was thinking about you all day.’

  ‘Yeah, it was cool, we had a good time.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘How’s the Megan search going?’

  ‘Josh . . . it’s terrifying, to tell the truth. I haven’t wanted to worry you, but I’m at my wits’ end now and I need someone to talk to. I don’t know what to do or which way to turn. Have you got a minute?’

  Silence again. Then, ‘Sure, tell me about it, Mum.’

  ‘A friend of Megan’s was shot, killed. The police think she was involved in some heavy drugs, but the trouble is, she was the double of Megan and I’m afraid there will be an identity mix-up and the thugs might go after her. That’s why I couldn’t come home for your birthday.’

  ‘What? Blimey, Mum, killed . . . You should have said. I had no idea it was that serious.’

  ‘I didn’t want to worry you. Anyway, that’s not all. Megan slept at the top of a derelict office block, which was set on fire. She managed to get out, and also rescued an old man – saved his life – but then she disappeared again.’

  ‘And now you don’t know where she is?’

  ‘That’s the thing – I do. Megan caught a flight to Crete yesterday afternoon – she’s planning to go and live with Granny Anna. I guess she doesn’t know that her grandmother has died.’

  This time Josh didn’t answer.

  ‘When was the last time you spoke to her, Josh?’ Zoë was careful to keep any animosity out of her voice.

  After another silence, he spoke softly and Zoë could hear the regret in his voice.

  ‘She made me promise not to tell, Mum. It was the week Granny left for Crete. I’m sorry. What are you going to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Should I go after her? She’ll be devastated when she learns about Granny Anna. Or, should I give up and come home? I’m too exhausted and worried about everyone to make a decision.’

  ‘Surely you can’t give up now? Not after everything that’s happened.’ She heard him take a deep breath. ‘Mum, I really do think you should go to Crete. If she calls me, which isn’t likely, I’ll tell her you’re on your way.’

  ‘Do you know why she left home, Josh?’

  He sighed. ‘It’s difficult to say when I gave my word, but if she’s in danger . . . Well, I guess these are extenuating circumstances and it’s okay to break my promise.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t know all of it, but I know she didn’t want to go back to school . . . And there was this guy she was seeing, and . . . and I think she was partying too hard, you know? Drink and . . . weed, and stuff. She was ashamed and afraid you’d find out. She thought she’d jeopardised your job and Dad’s reputation.’ He swallowed. ‘The thing is, she thinks she’s let you down and needs to prove herself. I told her that was bullshit but she wouldn’t have it.’

  ‘She could never let us down. Nor could you,’ whispered Zoë. ‘We love you both, Josh.’ She took a deep breath. ‘How’s your father?’

  ‘He’s working all the hours.’ After an awkward pause, he said, ‘You should call him.’ Then, more strongly: ‘Call him from Crete, Mum. Please.’

  She heard the heartbreaking hope in his voice.

  ‘Thanks, Josh, you’ve been a big help. I’ll phone you tomorrow evening with an update. Love you.’

  ‘I love you too, Mum,’ he said, for the first time in his life.

  *

  Zoë hurried into the travel agent’s. Before anyone could ask if they could help, she said, ‘I need a ticket to Crete, quite urgently.’

  ‘Blimey, it’s a stampede!’ one of the assistants joked, staring around the empty shop. ‘Take a seat while I see what I can do.’

  ‘I think my daughter took a flight to Crete. Megan Johnson. Is there a chance she booked her ticket here?’

  One of the others smiled. ‘That’s right, she did. I remember her. She’s going to visit her poorly grandma. What a considerate young woman. You must be very proud.’

  Zoë’s profound joy was quickly enveloped by sadness.

  ‘But the tragedy is, she doesn’t know her grandmother died a couple of months ago.’

  ‘Good lord, that’s so sad.’

  ‘She’ll be so upset.’ Zoë sat down heavily. ‘I have to get to Crete as soon as possible.’

  The woman nodded. ‘It’s carnival weekend, so there might be a problem, but don’t worry, we’ll get you there somehow. I’ll just check which accommodation your daughter was allocated and print it off.’

  *

  Athens, present day.

  The next few hours flew by. Zoë found herself in Greece, after taking the only available flight: Manchester to Athens. At the Olympic desk in Athens airport, she hoped to get an internal flight to Crete, but there was none available.

  ‘There’s a shortage because of the upcoming carnival,’ the Olympic rep explained. ‘Same every year. Most of the seats are taken by Greek students studying at British universities. Carnival weekend’s the highlight of their year.’ She nodded at a row of filled seats near the desk. ‘Look, there’s already a queue waiting for no-shows.’

  ‘Please, it’s urgent,’ Zoë pleaded.

  The rep looked up, and as if seeing Zoë for the first time, her face softened.

  ‘I shouldn’t say this, but why don’t you take the overnight ferry? If you get a taxi to the port of Piraeus right now, you’ll catch the last boat to Crete, and you’ll be there by six in the morning. At least you’ll get a good night’s sleep on board.’

  *

  The ship was full of students, tourists and Greeks, all heading for Crete. To make matters worse, every cabin was taken. She found herself an armchair in the front lounge and made herself as comfortable as possible. The noise was almost unbearable. Young children raced around; older ones played on their tablets with the sound up high. Men clacked their komboloi, and all the Greeks seemed to be shouting above the racket of two blaring TVs.

  She glanced across the room and saw a very elderly woman asleep across three cushions. She must be deaf, Zoë thought, to sleep through all that din. She took her jacket off and left it on the seat while she queued for coffee and doughnuts. After eating, she dozed, and woke with a jerk at three o’clock in the morning. The lounge was still and quiet. Everyone slept, except the old woman, who now appeared to be scribbling on bits of paper. Zoë resisted the urge to ask her if she would swap seats for a few hours, as she longed to lie down.

  She wondered how the woman came to be travelling alone at such an age. At the counter, she bought a warm ch
eese pie, a coffee and a glass of water. She asked the man behind the counter to give the same to the old woman, who was now busy with her crocheting.

  ‘No need to say it’s from me,’ she said, thinking of the woman’s pride.

  Zoë ate, and dozed again, imagining her daughter asleep in a hotel bed. Dreaming of the moment she would hold her again.

  As the passengers disembarked at Chania, the old woman was waiting near the exit. She gave out slips of paper to everyone that passed, and Zoë took one. It was in Greek. Guessing she was begging, Zoë placed a few euros in the woman’s wrinkled hand and wished her good luck. The old lady bowed.

  *

  Crete, present day.

  Zoë stood in a taxi queue for half an hour before she got a ride to Megan’s Rent Rooms Maria apartment block. She knocked on every door, but with no luck. Hardly anyone was in, and those who were hadn’t seen anyone of Megan’s description. She had seen a bakery on the opposite corner of the street and bought herself a spinach pie and a couple of bottles of water, then returned to Megan’s accommodation. By one o’clock, the sun had moved around and, sweltering in her court suit, Zoë wished she had bought a change of clothes. She walked across to the shady side of the street and sat on a low wall facing the building. An hour later, doubt started to set in.

  And then, just about to give up hope, she saw three young adults walking around the corner towards the apartment. One was a young woman.

  Megan!

  Zoë almost collapsed. She kicked off her heels, abandoned her bag and raced towards them yelling, ‘Megan, Megan!’

  In moments, they were in each other’s arms.

  Zoë pushed Megan’s hair back, ran her hands over her face, down her arms, confirming she was real . . . unharmed.

  ‘You don’t know how afraid I’ve been. God, I can hardly believe I’ve found you at last. Are you all right?’

  Megan was crying. ‘I’m sorry, Mum. I’m so, so sorry. What are you doing here?’

  Zoë’s heart was so full, her emotions so high, for a moment she struggled to speak.

  ‘I came to find you, Megan. I’ve been searching . . . so long. So very long.’

 

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