The Ebb

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  Laura sniffed, about to break into tears again. “Oh Mum, the show went swimmingly…”

  “So, what is it?”

  “It’s Christian.”

  Ruth placed a reassuring hand on Laura’s shoulder. “What about him, Child? Is he all right?”

  Laura nodded with a wry smile. “Oh yes, he’s fine.”

  Ruth cocked her eye at her daughter and grinned. “Then what is it? Lover’s tiff?”

  “It’s not like that, Mum. It’s quite serious,” answered Laura feebly, her eyes welling up with fresh tears.

  “There, there,” said Ruth, holding her against her and soothing her hair. She handed her a handkerchief, and Laura wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “Now tell me, what’s happened?” she asked once they both sat at the kitchen table.

  So Laura told her all about the necklace from the viscount, Mr Mills’s advice and eventually, Christian’s exaggerated reaction, as she put it. Ruth listened without interrupting and only made soothing noises whenever Laura’s voice trembled, as she tried to explain. When her daughter finished, Ruth exhaled audibly before speaking.

  “My dear Laura, men are competitive creatures. I’m not surprised.”

  “Oh Mum, what have I done wrong?”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong, dear. Men can be such fools sometimes! They’re too proud for their own good. I’m sure he’ll come round and will soon apologise. You two have rowed so many times before, but you always made up in the end, didn’t you now?”

  “This is different, Mum.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t you see? He thinks he’s not good enough for me. He’s told me so a million times! He’s practically talking himself out of loving me, out of needing me, day after day. And now, it is he who is getting his wish, not me!”

  “I see what you mean. But perhaps this is a lesson he needs to learn, dear. It seems to me you have a perfect opportunity here. He should learn to treat you better in future.”

  “What are you saying, Mum? That I should go out with this appalling man just to make him jealous? I can't allow myself to resort to such awful tricks!”

  “Who’s talking about tricks, Child? This is an opportunity for him to see how much he loves you, that’s all. He’ll come running back to you, and because he will have realised he can't live without you, he’ll never give you up again. All you have to do is listen to Mr Mills. He’s right! It would be a business lunch, that’s all. ‘Good for business’… Isn't this what he said?”

  Laura pulled a face of disgust. “I can't believe I’m hearing this!”

  “Listen to me, Daughter! You finally have a great opportunity to make something of yourself. You’re a leading lady in a show now. You must commit to that fully.” Ruth saw the look of uncertainty in Laura’s eyes and felt compelled to carry on. “Oh Laura, I’m so proud of you! The good Lord knows how I waited for this, to see you so happy and successful. Ever since you were little, I knew your singing voice would get you places someday. And I just can't wait to see you on stage this Saturday. Only six days till the final performance, and then you’re off to London. Oh, Daughter, aren’t you bursting with excitement? You’ll be a huge success; I just know it!”

  “Thank you, Mum,” answered Laura, managing a faint smile.

  “Hey come on, what are you worrying your little head for? A rising star like you!” Ruth said proudly, lifting her daughter’s chin with an arthritic finger. Her hands were as worn out as her lungs. Red-skinned and calloused, constant reminders of a lifetime of scrubbing floors around London factories and offices, trying to raise her daughter, to give her a life she could never have herself. Ruth wasn’t likely to give Laura any advice that was sure to deny her that.

  “But Mum, I love Christian! I don’t want to hurt him by going out with someone else—”

  “Trust me, Child, it’ll be for his own good. It might give him some ambition, an actual spine to fight for you for a change. Just go out with the viscount and play it by ear. Who knows? You might even fall in love. Oh, dear! You could be a viscountess!” Ruth’s heart gave a flutter, and her cheeks coloured deep crimson with excitement at the very thought of the prospect.

  “That’s absurd, Mum! I couldn’t possibly fall in love with a man as arrogant as that, let alone marry him!”

  “You never know, dear. It’s a different world—”

  “I won't give up Christian! I love him too much!” Laura jutted out her chin and cocked her head. “I’m only considering this preposterous idea of dinner with the viscount in order to get Christian to realise he was wrong about me; to apologise so that I can continue to love him more than I could ever love anyone else!”

  “All right, Laura, if that’s what you wish. Calm down now,” Ruth responded reassuringly, but of course, her inner desires for her daughter she kept to herself.

  “All right then, it’s decided. I’ll go out to dinner with this vile man.”

  “I’m proud of you, daughter. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Oh, I can just imagine it! My Laura at Notre Dame with a viscount. Oh, how grand!”

  Laura pulled a face of disapproval. “It’s only dinner, Mum. Don’t get too excited.”

  “Just wear the necklace. Make sure you don’t offend this man, Laura.”

  “Fine… I won’t, mum…” Laura stood up slowly. She shuffled to the hallway, her feet heavy as if she had a ball and chain trailing behind her. Still, that was more because of her upset rather than her physical exhaustion.

  “Wait, you haven’t shown me the viscount’s gift!” shouted her mother from the table.

  “I left it at the dressing room,” whispered Laura, looking over her shoulder.

  “Oh, do bring it home tomorrow. I’m dying to see it!”

  “All right, Mum,” she answered tiredly and then went up the stairs for a quick bath before dinner. Meg wasn’t joining them for tea that night, as she was staying out with Paul till late, but Maggie was expected home soon.

  Ruth started humming an old favourite tune as she made the table. The latest developments had finally opened before her a bright horizon, a solid hope for the luxury she always yearned for and wished to taste, if only for a while through her daughter.

  ***

  “Miss Mayfield!” came a hurried voice from behind her causing her to break her stride and come to a startled halt. She had just left the Pavilion after a long morning dance rehearsal and was walking along the promenade lost in her thoughts. Laura turned around and saw a man she didn’t recognise. He was out of breath and was holding a hat in his hand, fanning his face with it in an attempt to recuperate.

  It was then that she realised he must have been running behind her, while she walked absentmindedly. He was a stocky man in his mid-thirties, dressed in a chauffeur’s uniform. He had a benevolent look in his eyes, and when he stopped before her, he put his hat back on his head in a ceremonious gesture.

  “I’m sorry to startle you, Miss Mayfield.”

  Laura tilted her head and shielded her eyes against the sunlight with one hand. “Do I know you?”

  “No, Madam! But I believe you know my employer, Lord Willard.” He smiled and pointed to a stunning Rolls-Royce Phantom that was parked at the roadside about twenty yards away. It was white and looked dazzling in the morning sunlight. Every single car that cruised past it seemed to be put to shame by its very proximity to this fine specimen of mechanical ingenuity and stylish looks.

  “Oh! Yes, indeed, I do,” replied Laura. She threw another glance at the car and tried to seem unimpressed, as she flashed the chauffeur an easy smile. She attempted to make out the viscount’s silhouette behind the glass, yet the distance and the glare from the sun made it impossible.

  “Well, Madam, we were just driving past, and his lordship noticed you on the promenade. He wishes to have a word. Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the elegant car again. With an agreeable nod, Laura followed him there.

  Charles got out of the car and stood by its op
en back door, smiling at Laura confidently as she approached.

  For her, it was impossible not to notice the stylish, striped suit he wore, as well as his impeccable leather shoes. It was such a breath of fresh air to her, to meet someone from such a different world, who actually knew her. Impressed, she allowed herself to put aside her detestation towards him for a while. The shiny vehicle before her eyes did a lot to contribute to that effect, and she caught herself guessing what it must be like on the inside.

  “Good morning! Delighted to see you again, Miss Mayfield,” he said, kissing her hand with a graceful gesture. He met her eyes, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

  A vivid image of Christian’s laughing eyes flashed in Laura’s mind then. His eyes were a darker blue than Charles’s and they were flecked with green. The thought pained her, and she felt angry with herself. Although it unsettled her for a moment, she didn’t show it.

  “Please, call me Laura,” she finally said, intrigued. Charles had no problem abandoning formalities when addressing her in his notes.

  He flashed her an easy smile. “That will be my pleasure.”

  “I must thank you for your flowers and exquisite gift. You really shouldn’t have, though—”

  “I do hope to see you wear it some time,” he interrupted her with a smirk that suggested he was actually asking her out again, and she understood as much.

  “It’ll be my pleasure to wear it for you, Charles, when we dine at Notre Dame this Saturday.”

  Charles’s face lit up, causing Laura to feel better about her decision. She couldn’t possibly have turned him down. If anything, it would have been bad for business. That’s what she had been telling herself since the previous night, when her mother’s advice had made it all clear.

  In the light of day, everything looked easier, simpler. Even if Christian remained angry with her. All morning during rehearsal, as he got in and out of the auditorium doing his chores, he’d been acting as if she weren’t there. He hadn’t said a word to her, not even looked her way. Laura hadn’t tried to approach him either. Her mother had said it was all for his own good. He would have to learn a lesson. There was no other way.

  “I’m looking forward to it, Laura!” Charles couldn’t stop smiling.

  “See you Saturday then, after the show,” she replied and turned to go.

  “Wait, Laura. Can't we give you a lift somewhere?”

  “Oh no, it’s not necessary, thank you. Home is not that far, and I do love to walk.”

  “Are you sure? It’s no trouble!”

  The chauffeur nodded happily in silent agreement when she glanced at him, unable to decide. They were both so courteous, so obliging, and the alluring car beckoned to her again, the curiosity about its interior now returned, stronger than before. “Oh all right,” she finally agreed with an awkward smile.

  Charles gestured to her to get in the back seat and got in after her, making sure to sit at a respectful distance away.

  James, the eager chauffeur, took his seat and off they went, the car cruising silently and ever so smoothly along the road.

  The leisurely cry of the gulls followed them overhead as they drove along the seafront. At the shore, soft waves rolled in to foam onto the shingle, where children played, and adults relaxed on striped deckchairs, minding nothing else in the world other than their tan.

  Laura tried her best to seem unaffected by the plush interior of that car. The soft leather, the wood panelling, the shiny metal parts, even the smell it emanated felt intoxicating. Effortlessly by now, she talked with Charles in a friendly fashion, without so many formalities as before.

  The sea breeze from the back windows eased in like an unassuming friend who’s come to share in the joyride. It overstayed its welcome when it tousled their hair, yet, neither of them noticed as they chatted along, eager to get acquainted.

  Chapter 26

  1987

  Sofia woke up earlier than normal. What’s more, she jumped out of bed like a coiled spring as soon as she opened her eyes. She washed her face and dressed in a hurry. By the time the water for her cocoa drink boiled on the gas ring, she had already got her mug out and spread butter and honey on two pieces of toast. Gran’s face was a picture when she walked in to get a fruit bowl from the cupboard. She had just come back from the greengrocers with a bag full of apples and peaches.

  “Why up so early today, psyche mou? Normally you’re still in bed at this hour! What’s the rush?”

  “No reason, Yiayia. I just feel really energetic this morning,” she replied with a bright smile, planting a peck on Gran’s cheek on her way out. She came back from the kitchen in what seemed like an instant, carrying her mug with the hot drink.

  “Don’t forget, it’s pizza on the beach tonight! Your uncle is picking us up at eight thirty on the dot,” shouted out Granddad from the yard. Truth is, he couldn’t wait. It had all been arranged. His son Yiannis would take a large, special pizza from his shop, and he would come to pick up the three of them, then drive them to the beach. It hadn’t always been like that though.

  When Granddad still had the use of his legs, he used to be able to take a long walk to the beach and back without the need of a lift. He hardly went anywhere these days though, except for a meal or two at his son’s restaurant on special occasions. But the annual pizza fest on the beach was non-negotiable.

  “How could I forget, Pappou? I’m really looking forward to it,” yelled back Sofia as she munched on her toast, determined not to lose her appetite at the thought of Uncle Yiannis on such a fine day.

  “Pity Uncle Lilis isn’t here with the family to come along again. We had a great picnic last year!” said Granddad. “Remember he was pulling ghost faces in the dark with the torch for you girls? Little Nana was screaming so much and then giggling like a mad thing when he caught her and tickled her! That niece of mine can surely make some noise… do you remember the tourist couple who stopped to ask if she was all right? Oh, it was fun!”

  “Yeah, last year was fun! But never mind, Granddad. I’m sure it’ll be just as great with the three of us. Bring your torch along, and I’ll pull the ghost faces for you,” she replied happily, as she watched him through the window net chuckling at the thought of it all.

  Granddad was in a great mood that morning. He was sitting in his chair in the tiny yard listening to the Sunday mass on his portable radio. It was broadcasted live from St Spyridon’s church in Corfu town. That morning, as he often did, he was chanting along with the singers in the church.

  The only thing that disturbed the solemn sound of his voice, was the occasional swishing and slapping sounds from the fly swatter he was using at the same time.

  “Pity that Loula cannot come this year either,” said Gran as she arranged the fruit around the bowl.

  “Yes it is. But we can’t have everything. At least she’s coming to Paxos with me.”

  “Yes, it should be fun for you two,” answered Gran, “But you be careful on your own, all right?” she added after a short pause. “I don’t want any trouble with your father for letting you go.”

  “Of course, Yiayia! But please don’t make me tell him. He might not like it. Or come with us, then he won’t mind for sure,” she asked with pleading eyes.

  “I wish I could come, Sofia mou, but I can’t leave your granddad alone in the house any more. His arthritis got even worse this year. What if he trips in the yard or falls on the stairs while I’m away? God forbid!” Gran crossed herself, her face twisting with dread at the appalling thought.

  “All right, Yiayia, but please don’t make me tell my dad! He’s not likely to find out anyway. As long as Uncle Yiannis doesn’t find out and open his big mouth again, that is,” she added with a wry smile.

  “That’s not the point, agape mou! The point is you can’t lead your life hiding from your father. You have to tell him.”

  “Yiayia, why are you doing this? You know well he won’t let me live my life!” Sofia replied, raising her voice.


  “You’re twenty-one now Sofia. He’s changed. He didn’t stop you from working with Jimmy, did he?” she reasoned, although deep down she knew her granddaughter had a point.

  “That’s true, but in other ways he hasn’t changed. He still won't let me go out at night with my friends. He only let me go to the University Xmas party, and that was my only night out with friends all winter. And I still had to be back home by midnight! Did you know that?” Sofia paused for a few moments to catch her breath, and to witness Gran hang her head with a deep sigh.

  “How many twenty-one year olds do you know that still have a curfew?” continued Sofia. “I’m bloody Cinderella, Yiayia! It’s as if he thinks I’ll be turning into a pumpkin at the strike of twelve! Do you know what time I had to leave that party at the city centre in order to be home for midnight on the buses? Ten thirty! Half of my friends hadn’t even got there yet by the time I left! They thought I never went! Some of them still think I’m a snob, Yiayia! I tell them about my curfew and my dad, and they don’t believe me! Have you any idea how that feels? How alienating it is for me? To be either pitied or mistaken for a snob by your friends?”

  She had been gesticulating wildly throughout her outburst. A whole piece of toast remained untouched on her plate. She threw a cursory glance at it, knowing she would have to throw it in the bin. Both her appetite and her happy mood were now destroyed by the memory of her woes back in Athens.

  “Calm down, psyche mou,” Gran urged her, as her gnarled hand soothed Sofia’s back.

  The young girl looked up to find Granddad at the threshold with a look in his eyes that spoke volumes for his love for her. He took a seat next to her, and his wife returned to the fruit bowl to finish the task. At Sofia’s occasional outbursts of this kind, she didn’t have much to say, but it was always another story with Granddad.

  “Sofia, I promise you, soon you’ll be living your life exactly as you want. Be patient with your father. This is the only way he knows to love you, that’s all,” he soothed, caressing her hair.