“What did you say her name was?”
“Korina.”
The girls walked up to the front door. Like all village houses, there was no doorbell, so Loula called out the lady’s name. Seconds later, a thin, middle-aged woman with a cheerful smile welcomed them at the threshold. She had brown eyes that twinkled, and a mop of straggly, auburn hair. She wore no jewellery, no colourful clothes or headband, and looked like any other woman in the village. Sofia had no idea what she expected but was sure Mrs Korina looked nothing like the stereotype of gypsy fortune-tellers with their dark, smouldering eyes and long, jet-black hair.
“So, who will go first?” asked the kindly lady, when the girls were ushered to her small family room. She gestured towards the next room, a tiny kitchen which was clearly going to be the place where she intended to receive them one by one.
Sofia prompted Loula to go first, and being as excited as she was, her friend obliged her happily. Ten minutes later, she returned with a beaming smile across her face.
“So? What did she say, Loula?”
The young girl waved her hand excitedly in a windmill fashion, the way Greeks often do. “I’ll tell you later, but it’s all good! You go now, she’s waiting for you!”
Sofia walked into the kitchen apprehensively, as if she half-expected someone to forbid her entry. She wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous. Perhaps it was because the dreams mystified her so much. She didn’t want to be told something that would take the magic away, something that would render it all meaningless or stupid even.
By now, it had grown into something that filled her with wonder. She had seven poems in her notebook to show for it. She didn’t want some stranger, no matter how kind-looking or gifted, to take it away from her.
As if guessing her apprehension, Mrs Korina beckoned her with an easy smile to sit across from her at the small table. It put Sofia immediately at ease, and she felt thankful for that.
“So, can I have your ring? Loula said you’ve got one to show me.” Mrs Korina put out her hand.
“Yes, here it is,’ said Sofia, taking it off the middle finger of her left hand. She’d been wearing it since she was eighteen, when her parents gave it to her as a present for securing a place at Athens University. It’s a common custom among Greeks to give gold to their loved ones to mark special occasions. Succeeding in higher education is of course one of them.
Mrs Korina took the ring in her hand. It was a dazzling, cubic zirconia ring, set in white gold.
“It’s very pretty. Your parents must love you very much.”
“Oh, Loula told you?”
The woman gave a tiny smirk, then shook her head. “No.”
Sofia’s brows shot up like arrows. She decided to take this one with a pinch of salt. This woman would have to try a bit harder than that.
Mrs Korina closed her fist around the ring and sat back in her chair. “And now, let’s talk for a bit, while I let the energy visit me, as I like to say… Tell me, what is it you seek answers for?”
“Forgive me, but aren't you supposed to guess all that?” Sofia didn’t mean to sound rude, but wanted desperately for this woman to be genuine and not an impostor. She had sworn Loula to secrecy; not to tell the woman anything particular about Danny or the two first dreams she knew about. This way, whatever Mrs Korina came up with, she could trust she was truly gifted.
“I’ll be fully honest with you… Sofia, is it?”
The girl nodded.
“Loula told me you girls fell in love with two friends. I’ve a strong feeling you’re all connected together, but of course, your ring will tell me for sure. So far, I’ve only got her vibes and from those, I can already tell you girls are very close. She also mentioned you had a strange dream you may need help deciphering. That’s all I know; I give you my word.” She smirked and put up a hand.
Sofia smiled. “I appreciate your honesty.”
Mrs Korina leaned forward. “Give me your hand.”
Sofia approached to oblige her. Her face turned serious as the woman’s warm hand closed around hers.
The woman shut her eyes as she held Sofia’s hand. In her other one she still held the ring and clenched her fist around it even tighter.
“You’re a very melancholic young girl… always scratching at old wounds and always running against time…” she said after a few moments, opening her eyes again but only halfway. The effect made her look somewhat sleepy.
Sofia gasped. “What do you mean?”
“You’re always worried about something. Too much going on in your head and always something to hide. It’s not just the boy. What else is troubling you?”
“It’s my father. He doesn’t trust me enough to let me live my life. It’s the bane of my existence, to be frank,” Sofia blurted out in full honesty, before she could even contain herself.
Mrs Korina stared deep into the girl’s eyes. “It’s not just him, Sofia. There’s someone else, too. Two men from the same family. They are connected, and they’re both having this effect on you. But you mustn’t be angry with them. They can't help it. They have their own crosses to bear.”
Sofia stared at the woman goggle-eyed. Does she mean Dad and Uncle Yiannis?
Mrs Korina cocked her head. She seemed to be back to the land of the living again. “Now, about that boy you’re in love with…”
Sofia nodded. She was still aghast, too mystified to speak.
“I get the feeling this boy doesn’t trust you… and deep down you know this is the reason for your sadness. On a deeper level, much deeper than you imagine, you already know why he doesn’t trust you, why he’s afraid to. That’s why you’re having these dreams. You’re having them still, aren't you?”
“How… How did you know that?”
Mrs Korina put out her hand and opened her fist only for a second to reveal Sofia’s ring, then closed it again and rested it on her lap. She smiled and tapped her nose with one finger.
“I’m sorry… stupid question,” said Sofia, realising now that the woman before her was the real thing. The thought overwhelmed her. What else can she tell me?
As if guessing her thoughts, Mrs Korina gestured to her to calm down, then closed her eyes again and gave a deep sigh. “Tell me about the dreams.”
So Sofia told her everything. About the pier at Vassilaki turning in her dream into Brighton’s West Pier, about herself sometimes turning into that strange woman that wailed, cried, sang and inspired her poetry.
When she finished, Mrs Korina opened her eyes and fixed her with a firm stare. “Sofia, do you believe in reincarnation?”
“Yes.”
“Then, it’ll be easier to explain. The feeling I get is that you and this boy were happy together and very much in love in a previous life. You two are what people refer to as sister souls. But you made a mistake, a big mistake, and you lost him. He’s found you again, the way sister souls often do, but now he’s torn. Although he’s been looking for you in this lifetime just as you’ve been looking for him, now that he found you it’s proving hard for him to trust you. This is why you’re suffering now, just as you did then. This is why those feelings resurfaced, and you’re having these dreams.”
“You mean to say that in a previous life I knew Danny, and we both lived in Brighton?”
“Exactly.”
“But what happened? What did I do wrong?”
“The right answers will come to you only when you ask the right questions. Surely all the answers will be given to you in time if you look for them, but you must start with the right question first.”
“What is the right question?”
“The right question is not what you did wrong then, but what you can do now to correct it.”
“What can I do?”
“My dear child, isn't it obvious? You have to prove to him that you love him. You’ve got to earn his trust again. The part of your spirit that’s suffering inside you for past mistakes can see it. Surely, you can see it, too. There’s no other way. Even
if it hurts you when he shies away, and even if he fails you, you’ll have to show persistence until you win him over. And then, you’ll find again the man you loved in that distant past. The same undying love he once showed you will be yours to have once more.”
“And what about the woman in my dreams? Will her pain finally abate then?”
“My darling, it’ll simply vanish in the wake of your newfound happiness. Make no mistake: this woman is you. She is a fraction of your very soul. There’s no escaping her. Wherever you go, she goes. And you’ll never find peace until you do what’s right, until you free her from her remorse.”
***
A couple of days later, Sofia was packing her bag in the afternoon. The next morning, she would catch the first bus of the day to town, and from there, the early coach to Athens. She had heard they’d be boarding a new ferry that only took one hour to get across to Igoumenitsa, as opposed to the usual two. Oddly enough, the novelty gave her something to look forward to with eager anticipation, despite leaving the island.
Gran walked in to bring her a piece of cake from the kitchen. She’d just baked it, and it smelled divine. It was a cinnamon cake. Sofia took the plate and they sat down together while she devoured the steaming morsels of heaven.
“It’s delicious, Gran. Goodness, I’m going to miss your cooking!” she exclaimed, then buried her face in Gran’s neck, when she pulled her close for a cuddle.
“I’ll pack a few pieces in your bag when it gets cold. Then your parents can have some, too,” said Gran, wiping a tear from her eyes.
Sofia frowned at the sight of Gran crying. She always did that, making it so hard for her to say goodbye, crying from twenty-four hours before, as if rehearsing for the floods of tears that always marked Sofia’s moment of departure.
“Are you packing your hat or wearing it?” asked Gran, pointing to Danny’s goodbye gift. It was hanging from the back of a nearby chair, forever within easy reach for Sofia to wear or just feel close to. It helped her to manage the pain whenever she thought of Danny, and how she missed him.
“I’ll wear it.” Sofia gave a sigh and returned to her open luggage on the divan bed. She resumed packing and did her best to look nonchalant as she avoided eye contact. She just knew Gran would see the sadness in her eyes if she faced her now. It had been a while since she’d got the card and the tape in the post and was getting restless about whether or not Danny would write to her in Athens.
She had recently started phoning her mother every day at work, finding the odd excuse, hoping she’d mention that something had arrived in the post for her. As she had acquired correspondents in various countries over the years, mainly through school and TV shows like ‘Big Blue Marble’, she didn’t worry her parents might find it suspicious if she got herself yet another pen pal, even if it was a young, male one. Anything was good and acceptable if it aided her education. Her foreign friends had been wonderful with helping her practice her English.
“Can I ask you something, Sofia mou?” piped up Gran, after a few moments of silence.
The girl placed a neat pile of folded t-shirts in her luggage, then threw a tender glance at her Gran. “Of course, Yiayia.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth about the hat? I was hoping you’d trust me with your secret.”
Sofia looked away, pretending she was checking on her packing progress. “What do you mean?”
“Look, I may be old and needing glasses, but I can still see enough. I put two and two together. It wasn’t hard…”
Sofia’s heart thumped against her chest. She continued to look at her luggage, moving contents here and there. “I don’t understand what you mean, Yiayia.”
Gran stood and placed a reassuring hand on Sofia’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, kyra mou. No one’s going to find out. You can tell me about your friend. I won't tell.”
Sofia managed to face her Gran then and found the old woman’s eyes were twinkling as if she were a teenager, jumping at the chance to talk boys.
Sofia winced and sat down by her Gran again. “What do you know, Yiayia?”
“I know that a young tourist gave you the hat. I’ve known for a while…”
“But… But how?”
Gran chortled. “As I said, I’m old but not blind. It’s an extension of your hand, Sofoula mou. You’re never seen without it. Oh, you young kids, you’re so transparent!”
Sofia gave a wry smile. “Is it that obvious?”
Gran gave a firm nod and smiled. “Now, don’t panic but there’s something else. Before I tell you anything, know I covered for you so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Sofia’s heart gave another thump. “Oh God, what now?”
"Tell me the truth, psyche mou. Did you meet this boy in the street? Did you go for a walk alone together?”
“Yes, Gran. We—” She stopped mid-sentence and gasped. “Oh, no! Uncle Yiannis?”
“Yes. He was driving past at the time and saw you. He called me the same evening. He sounded worried, but I talked him out of calling your dad again. And I say again, because he did try to phone, but your dad’s number was busy at the restaurant. That was lucky! And he was so overwhelmed with what he’d seen that he had to tell someone so he called here instead.”
“And what did you say?”
“I had to think fast, of course. I already suspected you had lied to me about finding the hat on the beach… so I wasn’t stunned or anything when he told me. I got him to describe the scene, and he said you and the boy were just walking side by side by the bridge. Definitely not holding hands or doing anything else that would suggest you were anything other than strangers.”
Sofia swallowed hard. It felt like she had a huge lump in her throat. Her palpitations only now started to subside, and she placed a hand on her heart, as if willing it to revert to its normal rhythm. From what she heard, she had been very lucky. She gave credit to herself for being so careful. What if we had been spotted holding hands or something?
“You see, there was nothing suggesting that you and the boy knew each other well. So I lied to him to calm him down.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I knew about it. I said your Aunt Leni called me, asking for help with a guest in her rooms down by the river. I lied to him that a young guest there had lost his keys and phoned Karavi, but because no one in the restaurant could leave, your aunt asked for you to meet him instead and help him out. I said you wound up accompanying him to Karavi yourself as to get the spare keys, because he was new and didn’t know where the restaurant was.”
“Oh my goodness, Gran, that was genius! Did he believe you?”
“Well, he seemed taken aback, but he had no choice. I guess he could never expect I’d be willing to lie to protect you.” She winked.
“But what if he tells Dad?”
Gran gave a dismissive wave. “I lied once, I can lie again. Oh look at you, looking like you’ve got the world on your shoulders! You’re in love! Enjoy it, agape mou.”
Sofia looked gob-smacked, so Gran laughed and went on.
“You’re not the only one in this position, you know. You can't imagine what we village girls had to do to see the young lads we took a fancy on back in my day.”
Sofia felt relief wash over her like a jet of tepid, soothing water. She flung her arms open and squeezed her granny in her arms. “Oh, thank you, Yiayia!”
Gran gave a lopsided grin. “And now that we got this out in the open, I wonder how long it’ll take you to admit that the tape you’ve been wearing out is a present from the same boy, too.”
Sofia gave an awkward smile and then obliged her Gran with the truth. It felt wonderful to talk to her about her feelings for Danny. Not that she mentioned the dreams or the visit to Mrs Korina of course, but it was great to confide in Gran about all that she could.
Gran then took her by surprise even more when she revealed that Aunt Leni had spotted Sofia and Danny feeding the birds at the pier’s edge more than once. Her aunt
had confided in Gran and again, it had gone no further. It seemed the circle of trust among women in this non-liberal world, stretched much further than Sofia had ever imagined.
Gran went back to the kitchen, and Sofia carried on with her packing, this time with a much lighter heart. She was going to visit Loula at Karavi later on to say goodbye and couldn’t wait to tell her all that Gran had just relayed.
Loula was by now her most trusted confidant. She was the only person Sofia had told everything about the dreams, and all that Mrs Korina had disclosed to her. By combining the advice they had both received from the gifted clairvoyant, it seemed that most probably, the two of them and the boys were all interconnected. Perhaps that past lifetime in Brighton even involved all four of them.
One year from now, the two girls would get their chance to finally visit Brighton. What would happen then, only time would tell. Or perhaps it would take more than time. Maybe those poems were what held the key to all the answers, these fractions of an old confession from that part of her soul that sought redemption.
One by one, these poems, these songs, from the woman’s beautiful, yet mournful voice, guided Sofia back to Brighton with every word, every verse, and every refrain.
Epilogue
1938
Sitting in the back seat of the Rolls, Charles still found it impossible to stomach the enormous insult he’d just been served. His face looked hardened and twisted. His expression was one of sheer, venomous hate. A purple vein throbbed in the centre of his glistening forehead, and the blood that rushed furiously through his veins made him feel hot and claustrophobic in the confined space. He tugged at his tie to loosen his collar, then took a deep breath and exhaled audibly, cursing again under his breath.
“Take me to The Black Cat, now!” he barked at James.
In immediate response, the chauffeur glanced in his rear view mirror, meeting Charles’s thundering glare. “Very well, sir,” he responded, arranging his facial features into an expression of sheepish compliance. When his boss looked away, James rubbed his chin and smirked with quiet satisfaction. You had this one coming, you filth! You’re a menace to women and an insult to men! He wished he could give him a piece of his mind, but perhaps his daring thoughts could wait for another day. He was glad to see that sweet Laura had finally escaped from his boss’s talons of evil. The kindly chauffeur was fond of her enormously and knew already he was going to miss her, but he was glad she was gone, for her sake.
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