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The Ebb

Page 4

by Effrosyni Moschoudi


  She had a quick scan around her and only saw a few tourists on the sand and in the water. This was no surprise. It wasn’t midday yet; the villagers started to descend shortly after that for their daily socializing. When she spotted her friend Jimmy at the head of the sports pier busily chatting with someone, she smiled to herself, eager to go there and greet him.

  Every year, Jimmy ran his business of water sports there. She noticed he had more canoes and pedaloes this summer. Leather straps with hooks were scattered here and there on the deck, and an open parachute for paragliding was lying at the pier head in a heap. As she walked over to Jimmy along the deck, she wondered for a moment if she might startle him for fun. It was an opportune moment. It was quiet enough to hear the soft lapping of the waves against the piles underneath. The weathered deck creaked only slightly under her sandaled feet but on second thought, she decided not to follow through with her mischievous plan. Perhaps he was with a customer, and she didn’t want to embarrass him.

  Sofia was terribly cautious about all things. Always tactful; never did anything daring or spontaneous. Her level-headedness was her safe haven and her high security prison. She called Jimmy’s name, and he turned around to recognise her at once, rushing with a smile to shake her hand and welcome her.

  He was a local in his mid-thirties, who had changed his name from Dimitris to Jimmy, long before he met his English wife, Sarah. He had been running his business on the pier for over ten years and had always introduced himself as Jimmy to all the tourists. When he was a youngster, he used to think the name made him sound cooler than he actually was, and eventually it had stuck. By now, even the locals called him Jimmy.

  Sofia remembered he used to be quite a poser with the girls, but all that had changed when he fell in love with Sarah. She’d come into his life as a customer six years earlier, and it had been love at first sight. They had got married the following year and now had an adorable toddler together.

  After a friendly chat, Sofia waved goodbye to Jimmy and walked back to the beach, this time heading for Karavi. Eager to meet up with her relatives and her friend Loula, she strode past the empty tables of the restaurant section. In the far corner, a few patrons were sitting by the bar enjoying refreshments, but Loula wasn’t in sight. A quiet, young couple were seated at a remote table by the sand, holding hands under the shade of the canvas awning, sipping ice coffee from large tumblers.

  As Sofia approached the kitchen entrance, the tantalising aromas of tomato sauce and roast meat tormented her senses. She stood at the door and called out to her Auntie Leni, who rushed out first to embrace her. Uncle Nikos and her cousin Akis followed suit, taking their turn to kiss Sofia on both cheeks, as is the customary Greek greeting. As usual, they offered to treat her to ice cream or a fruit juice, but she declined politely, explaining she had just had meze back home. They all made appreciative sounds to that, and Akis pointed towards the bar when Sofia asked to see Loula.

  The young girl was just returning to her post after a quick dash to the storeroom around the back to get more ice. Sofia waved to everyone hastily and turned away. With a mischievous grin on her face, she walked stealthily to the bar. Loula was standing over a large freezer box with her back turned. Sofia sat on one of the stools and feigning rude impatience, called out: “Hey young lady! Your coldest beer and make it snappy!”

  Loula turned around and let out a long, high-pitched shriek. Sofia rushed to her behind the bar, and they fell into each other’s arms fondly.

  Akis appeared from seemingly nowhere then, grabbed them both by the shoulders to startle them, and they dissolved into hysterics. He had just excused himself in the kitchen, thirsty for his cousin’s company for a while longer.

  The three of them had been inseparable all their lives, seeing that they had almost the same age. Akis and Sofia were both twenty-one and Loula was eighteen. When they were children, they used to call themselves ‘the three-member gang’, a nickname that had stuck with their parents and grandparents quite easily. As a child, Akis was a bit of a handful, his naughtiness legendary in the village. Among other things, he’d burn ants for fun with a magnifying glass, or make a loop with tall grass to catch lizards for his playtime. Once, he went too far, getting Sofia and Loula to hold his grandmother’s favourite cat while he tied a tin can with a string to its tail. The poor animal had run amok all over the village until the string came loose. They’d all got grounded for that for a couple of days.

  “Have a seat, Sofia. What can I get you?” Akis asked.

  “No, no, please don’t fuss! I’m okay. Just came to see you, guys.”

  “Okay, I’ll choose for you if you won’t say. A lemonade then.” He smiled and dashed behind the bar, but not before giving his cousin an affectionate pinch on her cheek.

  Sofia grimaced and rubbed at her aching skin. “Your hands are like pliers, I swear!”

  Loula howled as she took a seat by her. By the time Akis returned to the table, the girls seemed engrossed in conversation.

  “I’ll let you get the girl talk out of the way today, but tomorrow you’re mine,” he said, pointing a finger at Sofia in a mock-warning fashion. He put the cool glass of lemonade on the table before her, chuckling, and turned to go, but the girls complained.

  “Don’t go yet!” Sofia said.

  “Come back, Boss,” joked Loula.

  “No worries. I’d better get back to work anyway. See you later, alligator,” he joked and galloped back to the kitchen.

  Sofia cringed as she watched him go back inside. She imagined that crammed room of rising steam and sweltering heat made any summer day spent in it, a feat of painfully hard work.

  Loula tapped her friend on the back, and when Sofia turned around, she arched her eyebrows and gave her a suggestive nod. “So tell me, what's new? Anyone worth mentioning from Uni?”

  Sofia giggled. “Oh Loula, I don’t believe you!” Her friend hadn't changed at all. Ever since they abandoned their dolls and started noticing boys, Loula had only one wish: for Sofia to finally fall in love. It bugged her beyond words that she was still spared from Cupid’s arrows. Loula was quite the opposite.

  “You haven't answered the question. Should I be hoping?” Loula’s eyes twinkled with anticipation.

  Sofia pulled a face of mock compassion. “I’m afraid you shouldn’t. Sorry to disappoint.”

  “But how is it even possible? Boys in Athens can't be all that bad! Surely there’s one bookworm among them you could pair up with. You could snuggle up on the sofa together reading to each other for hours, it would be a blast!” teased Loula, who knew about her friend’s fondness for books.

  “Stop it you!” Sofia gave a chuckle but then she frowned. “Seriously now, how could I possibly have a boyfriend? You know how things are with my parents.”

  “Still? Sofia, this is absurd! You’re twenty-one now. What are your parents thinking? When are you going to meet someone?”

  “Never, I expect!” she shrugged, smiling bitterly. “Perhaps they’ll just bring a guy home one day and introduce him as my husband and that’ll be it!”

  “You make a joke of it, but with your parents you never know!”

  “Bah! I guess when I meet the right guy, somehow it’ll work out. But for now, there isn't anyone. So I don’t need to worry.”

  “But how are you ever going to meet anyone when you’re not even flirting?”

  “The way I see it Loula, why even bother with boys when I know I won't be allowed to go out with them?” protested Sofia, her face animated with frustration. She always hated it when Loula broached this subject. Staying away from boys seemed to her the only way to deal with her cloistered existence.

  “But Sofia, this is not normal. You have to start some time—”

  “Look, Loula, it’s probably one of those things that come naturally when the time is right. I just haven’t met anyone special enough yet—”

  “But I doubt you’re even on the look out! You know, it takes practice and experience to fi
nd the right guy. You can't just marry the first one that comes along!”

  “I told you, Loula. With my parents being on my case like that, it’s best not to complicate things. You’re lucky you have your mum, who understands these things. In my situation, it’s preferable to observe boys from a distance. It saves me from the grief.”

  Loula shrugged her shoulders. “What can I tell you? Just don’t wait till you’re seventy.”

  “Well, you forget it won't be that long till I’m free. One more year, Loula. Just wait till I get my degree and then I’m off to England!”

  “Yeah! One year for your master’s degree and then back to the salt mines, more like!”

  “Hopefully, by the time I return they’ll have realised I’m old enough to live as I please.”

  “Well, we live in hope—”

  “Don’t be so negative, Loula!”

  “What can I say? People don’t change that easily. But for your sake, I hope you’re right. You know how much I care for you, don’t you?”

  Sofia sighed. “I know.” She took a sip from her lemonade and tried to smile. “So, what’s new with you then? Do you still see that new boy from Messi?”

  To her surprise, Loula pulled a face of sheer distaste. “No, I certainly do not! And please don’t remind me of him.”

  Her friend leaned forward and cocked her eye at her. “Do tell!”

  Loula sighed with exasperation. “Well, we went out a couple of times for a coffee but I don’t think I’ll see him again. He called twice since last time, but I made excuses not to meet up.”

  “Why?”

  “I heard some things from a mutual friend that I didn’t like.”

  “Like what?”

  “Apparently he’s a big spender, but not with his own money. His parents just hand him the cash and he wastes it. He doesn’t want to get a job or to study. The guy’s a loser!” Loula huffed with feeling, and the rush of air caused her baby blond fringe to rise for a second, like the hem of a silk dress caught in a breeze.

  “How old is he?”

  “He’s twenty-two but I don’t see how age matters.”

  “Well, he’s still young—”

  “Nonsense! A man is what he is on that score. He doesn’t improve with age. He’s just one of those lazy types, who will never come to any good. I see the type and I run miles, you know that! My mum taught me better than to wind up with a man who’s not capable of hard work. Can you imagine him as a parent ten years from now, and me as his wife? Oh dear!”

  Sofia chuckled. “Perish the thought!”

  Loula ran a hand through her long blond hair but not in a leisurely fashion. The movement looked rushed, like the rush of her breath in and out of her chest as she spoke. “You know how I feel about work. I’ve promised my mum to find a man, who will work hard to support his family. Without work, there’s no dignity in life.” It was evident from her firm tone of voice that she felt strongly on the matter. It didn’t leave Sofia room to disagree even if she wanted to.

  “Well, there are plenty more fish in the sea.”

  “You bet!” responded Loula, perking up somewhat. “Although the phrase sounds strange coming from you.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because you don’t seem to like ‘fishing’, if you know what I mean.”

  “Of course I do! I am interested in boys!”

  “Are you? Are you really?”

  “Of course! I told you! I don’t want the trouble as such, but I am looking!”

  “Oh I think you’re not!”

  “That’s absurd!”

  “Oh yeah? Let’s put you to the test,” replied Loula, placing a hand playfully over her friend’s eyes.

  “What are you doing?” Sofia tried to remove her friend’s hand but to no avail.

  “Tell me, can you describe any of the boys on the beach right in front of us?”

  “What?”

  “Go on then! I could describe them all for you; I swear I’m not looking right now!”

  “Ok, let’s see…” Sofia had shaken her head away from Loula’s hand, but she wasn’t cheating. She was now facing the other way and trying all she could to recall even one boy. She felt compelled to defend herself against her friend’s absurd accusation but soon realised it was a lost cause. She had felt so overwhelmed to be with her again that she hadn’t given boys any thought. Vaguely, she remembered seeing a couple here and there, but a description of even one of them was out of the question. “There’s a blond guy!” she piped up, trying to sound convincing.

  Loula giggled. “That was a pathetic attempt to fool me, girlfriend! You can turn around now. You failed the test miserably. Look!” She pointed a sharp finger towards the half-naked boys lying on the beach by the sports pier. “I can’t believe you never noticed that dark-haired Adonis with the pony tail over there! And what about that holy picture of angel-like perfection under that umbrella? Yes he’s blond, but you never saw him missy, go on admit it!” Her accusations were well founded, and she knew it as she made her point, chuckling with glee.

  Sofia put a hand up. “Okay! So I never saw them, I admit it.” Her friend made a good point and it made her think. She started to giggle but felt a bit uneasy now, wondering if there was something wrong with her after all.

  Loula laughed, nudging Sofia with her elbow. “Cheer up! It’s nothing I can’t fix. You’re rusty after a winter without me, that’s all! I’ll just keep pointing the best among those walking and talking works of art and soon enough, you’ll be a fine connoisseur again, worthy of my well-sought estimation!” Loula’s eyes twinkled with mirth. As for her poise, this would befit the principal of the world’s finest boarding school for girls.

  Two couples approached the bar then, and Loula stood up eagerly to serve them. Sofia waved at her friend and said goodbye quickly, promising to drop by again before leaving the beach. Once she stepped on the sand, she turned around to look at the bar again. To her amusement, she found Loula gesturing to her with a smile, pointing at three handsome boys that were walking past at the time. Sofia smiled back and mouthed to her friend a sarcastic ‘thank you’ for pointing them out so kindly. She waved to her one last time and turned around, eager now to get into the water.

  The heat of the sun had grown strong and according to her watch, it was half past twelve. In the distance, she made out a couple of village women getting in the water. She could hear their shrill elderly voices all the way from the cluster of willow trees, where they had left their belongings.

  The high crescendos of the melodic Corfiot vernacular filled the air, and Sofia felt at home again. She loved its sound. Soon, she would pick it up again to sound like a village girl, too. It happened every summer.

  Gran had been raised in the quaint, old quarter of Corfu town, called Campielo. She often interspersed her speech with intriguing, Italian-sounding words that dated back to the Venetian occupation of the island. Sofia had picked up lots of these words from her gran over the years. Gran often teased that had Sofia been raised on Corfu instead of Athens, she would be sounding like a proper resident of Campielo herself.

  The young girl found a quiet spot and took her towel and straw mat out of her beach bag. She wasted no time with laying them down and just left them on the sand. Hurriedly, she took off her loose cotton dress, revealing a light blue, one-piece swimsuit that accentuated her slender figure. By the time she got in the sea to be wrapped up in the blissful cool of the water, she had already forgotten again all about boys and her unwillingness to let them into her heart.

  Chapter 7

  Gran entered the room and placed the roasting tin on the table. The rich steam that emanated from the leg of lamb and the herb-sprinkled potatoes carried with it the mouth-watering smells of garlic, wild oregano and rosemary.

  Sofia grinned from ear to ear as she held up her plate to be served. After her swim, she felt ravenous as usual. She had eagerly helped Gran by setting the table and had also obliged Granddad’s request to pick tomat
oes, cucumbers, and peppers from the plants. She had then made the salad, adding large chunks of feta cheese and lashings of olive oil. The olive oil was her favourite: the unripe kind with the deliciously bitter tang from the local groves.

  Sofia set her full plate before her and picked up her favourite fork, catching Granddad’s eye. Across the table, he responded with a wink of approval, grinning at her like a teenager. Sitting next to him, Gran was beaming at the sight. There was a rather childish ritual among the three of them, involving that particular fork. It had lasted for years. When Sofia was small, she picked it up one day announcing with glee that it was her favourite and that she was to eat with it every time she was in the house. It was odd-looking and surprisingly light as it was made of aluminium. Over time, it had lost its sheen and one prong was badly dented. Yet, it had become the symbol of Gran and Granddad’s goal to provide for Sofia’s every need and as such, it had pride of place on the table throughout the summer. It was a comforting sight to all three of them. It meant Sofia was there again and that nothing in the world had changed.

  “So, how was the sea today, Sofoula mou?” asked Granddad as he munched at his food.

  “Perfectly still! It was like olive oil, Pappou. And crystal clear,” she exclaimed with a wide grin. “Such a pity you can’t come too!”

  “Ah, if only my legs could carry me up and down the hill! But alas, my arthritis is only getting worse by the years. I can barely walk to church these days. Still, I’ve had my fair share of swims in my youth, don’t you worry,” he replied happily, without a hint of bitterness in his voice, nor a shadow of sadness in his eyes.

  Sofia glanced at him melancholically for a few more moments, thinking back on earlier summers when he was still strong on his feet. Then she turned to Gran with a hopeful look on her face. “You’re coming swimming with me tomorrow, aren’t you, Yiayia?”

  “Of course, psyche mou! I’ll be coming every day. I only stayed behind today for the roast. I wanted to give it all my attention for your homecoming,” she replied with a heartfelt smile that could have melted a stone.

 

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