The Flow

by Effrosyni Moschoudi

  That late afternoon, Laura was lying on the sofa reading when the doorbell rang. Maggie was making tea at the time, and she pulled a face of irritation, imagining it could only be Mrs Beesley again. She had the habit of calling at the most inconvenient of times. Yet, when she opened the door, she was stunned to see a well-dressed woman she didn’t recognise, standing next to James, Charles’s chauffeur. Her heart sank.

  “Good evening, Maggie. Allow me to introduce you to Lady Fenshaw,” said James.

  “Oh, hello, James! My lady,” Maggie replied after a second or two of stunned silence. She offered her hand and tried to conceal her confusion.

  “How do you do?” Lady Fenshaw shook the girl’s hand.

  “How do you do?” echoed Maggie with a bow of her head.

  “I hope I’m not calling at an unsuitable time. I’ve come to see Laura.”

  “Of course! Do come in, my lady.”

  Lady Fenshaw entered, while James returned to the car to wait for her. Maggie led her to the living room and when Laura looked up from her book, she froze, her face filling with colours of apprehension and surprise.

  “Lady Fenshaw,” she finally said rather breathlessly. As she shifted her weight to stand up, she became aware of her heart thudding in her chest.

  “Oh, please don’t stand on my account!” She approached to kiss Laura on the cheek. Laura sat back down and offered her a seat. Maggie, tactful as always, made herself scarce by returning to the kitchen to make a pot of tea for everyone.

  “I like your home. It’s very cosy.” Lady Fenshaw threw appreciative glances about her.

  “Thank you, my lady.”

  “Oh please! It’s Susan, remember?”

  Laura nodded.

  “So, how are you and the baby?”

  Laura’s eyes widened. “You know about the baby? I didn’t realise!”

  “Yes, I do know . . . Didn’t Charles mention he had told me and his father? Oh, what a mess!” she exclaimed shaking her head ruefully, looking horrified. “I’m ever so sorry, dear Laura! We have all been so unfair to you.”

  Laura knitted her brows. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “My son told me about the baby in the New Year. He said you were getting married, dear.”

  “Did he?” she asked, raising her voice an octave higher.

  “Yes, dear. But why do you look so surprised?”

  “Excuse me, Lady Fenshaw, but—”

  “It’s Susan.”

  “Well, excuse me . . . Susan . . .” She paused. She’d just addressed her with her first name as she’d asked, but the familiarity this suggested felt wrong. She shook her head and tried to find the right words. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m not sure what the purpose of your visit is.” She paused, aware that what she’d just said bordered on rudeness. Yet, she couldn’t help it.

  “Dear child,” said Lady Fenshaw reaching out to pat Laura’s hand. “I must apologise on behalf of my husband and my son. They’ve made such a terrible mess! I guess I’m here to try to make things right.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

  “I understand that my son has withdrawn his marriage proposal, and that you’re no longer seeing each other,” said Susan Fenshaw, her brow creased with concern.

  “Yes, that is true. Charles said he no longer wanted to marry me or to have anything to do with the baby, which is why we’re no longer together.”

  “You let him go? Not the other way around?”

  “Yes, that is correct. I don’t see why we should be together since he didn’t want the baby. But I don’t understand. Why do you feel you must apologise for him? Whatever was to be said, it has been said. It’s been two months. I don’t expect anything from him any more; including any apologies.”

  “But, forgive me Laura, didn’t he mention what had caused him this sudden change of heart? Because I assure you, my son still loves you! He’s been miserable without you. He was so excited about the baby and the prospect of marrying you!”

  “He was?”

  “Yes, indeed he was! But after his father’s threats . . . you must understand . . . he had no choice but to want to take things slow, hoping his father would change his mind . . .”

  “What threats? I know nothing about any involvement from Lord Fenshaw.”

  “Well, I am quite ashamed to admit it, but my husband opposed to this marriage at first. He threatened to disown Charles if he were to go ahead with it. This is why our son backed down. But I assure you he didn’t want to lose you. He was only trying to buy time with his father until he changed his mind.”

  “So this was all about his inheritance? He wanted me to kill my child so that he doesn’t lose the estate?” yelled Laura, unable to hide her indignation. It all made sense now, but it didn’t put Charles in a good light. If anything, it showed where his loyalty most lay and it wasn’t noble, not noble at all.

  “Please forgive him, Laura! I scolded him as much as you obviously did when he suggested it to you! I am a devoted Catholic, my dear. I was appalled to hear he even suggested an abortion to you! And my husband is just as bad proposing it as the solution. Please forgive them both!”

  “So you’ve come here to offer me an apology on their behalf? Are they even aware of that? Or is it just your own shame that brought you here?”

  “I assure you they are both prepared to apologise to you in person if you only let them. I am pleased to say that these past two months have given them enough time to rethink their actions and to reconsider.”

  “Are you suggesting that everything’s fine now? Am I to take Charles back just because his inheritance is now safe? Is this how low you think of me? Do you think I’ve been sitting here waiting for Charles to reconsider and take me back? I’m the one who told him to leave me alone, and trust me, I never cared about his money or his inheritance! Your son has no shame! I could never be with him. I’m sorry, Lady Fenshaw,” she said, giving emphasis to the last two words, just to stress her point, before raising her chin. “You’re mistaken. I’m not going to take him back just because his money is now safe.”

  “Please Laura, please understand! This baby is my grandchild! It is all I’ve been thinking about. In a way, it is part of all of us. Surely you cannot deny that. I can appreciate that you feel upset and offended. You have every right to, but I beg you, please reconsider! The baby will find in us a loving father and two affectionate grandparents, who will make sure it’ll never want for anything. Surely, if you love your child, you do not wish to deprive it of all that!”

  “I don’t . . . I’m not sure how . . .” mumbled Laura. Lady Fenshaw’s words had hit home. She couldn’t bring herself to discard her gentle manner and the sense she made. For someone like Laura, who had no family left in the world, it meant a lot. Could she deny her child the right to a loving family? When she turned to meet Lady Fenshaw’s gaze, the elderly woman was silently imploring her still. It was too much for Laura’s sympathetic heart to bear.

  “You’re angry, and I fully understand,” Lady Fenshaw went on. “But I assure you, Charles loves you dearly and still wants to marry you and be the father of your child! As for my husband, whatever objections he once had about you because you don’t bear a title, these belong to the dark ages. Now, he has seen sense. Like me, all he thinks of these days is his grandchild. Please forgive an old fool! Say you’ll think it over, Laura . . . Would you do that please?” When she reached out to squeeze Laura’s hand, the gesture conveyed all her tenderness and loving acceptance. It was an open invitation that caused Laura’s heart to melt. It was a shock if anything. Until yesterday, she thought the Fenshaws were as cold as ice, as unfeeling as the dead.

  “All right, Susan,” managed Laura, swallowing hard a huge lump in her throat. She could feel the tears brewing in her eyes. She stood up and gestured to the hallway. “I’ll show you out,” she said politely, “I’ll call you in the week.”

  “Thank you, my dear! God bless you!” she exhaled with relief. With an affectionat
e pat on Laura’s hand, she left the room.

  Maggie had overheard their argument from the kitchen—with all the shouting, it was hard not to. When she saw Lady Fenshaw walk to the front door with her friend, she rushed to see her off too.

  “Right; I shall look forward to your call,” said Lady Fenshaw to Laura. “It was a huge pleasure to meet you, Maggie.” She offered her hand to her again. Laura opened the door and James came out of the car in a hurry to open the back door for Charles’s mother. Laura waved to him and he gave her one of his easy smiles.

  “Goodbye, Susan,” she cried out with a wave as the car drove away. By the time she closed the door behind her, she knew already that her empathy and selfless nature were going to leave her once more with no choice. At least, this one was going to be easier in comparison to her sacrifices of the past.

  Chapter 25

  1988

  After Steve’s departure, the same afternoon, Jeff and the girls returned to Karavi to sit together at a remote table by the sand and enjoy an ice cream. Loula was still fairly down-in-the-mouth but nowhere near as upset as the year before, since this time she knew she’d see Steve again as early as September.

  “Go on, chin up! You lovebirds will be in England together before you know it!” Jeff encouraged her with a playful jab on her arm.

  “I know,” replied Loula with a crooked smile. “It’s the only thought that keeps me going. Still, I’ll be relieved to get back behind the bar as of tomorrow. Work keeps me busy so I won’t sulk about so much.”

  “So you realise you’re a bit of a sulker, do you?” teased Sofia before having another mouthful of her vanilla and hazelnut ice cream. It was simply delicious; nutty, silky smooth and just perfectly chilled.

  Loula raised her shoulders. “Sorry. I’ll be better over there as of tomorrow morning, I promise,” she said with a little giggle, pointing vaguely behind her towards the bar. Akis stood there, manning the front, although it was quiet at the time. He had dismissed the temp girl that morning, and since she’d known beforehand, she’d arranged to start work at another bar as of the next day. That was fortunate, and it meant there had been no awkwardness between her and Loula in the past few days.

  When Akis noticed the three absently gazing at him after Loula’s last words, he gave a puzzled look and shouted out, “You’re not moaning again, are you, Loula? Give her a slap on the back of the head for me, Sofia! I’m having none of that in my bar as of tomorrow.”

  Loula turned around and stuck her tongue out at him while the other two giggled. Jeff didn’t have a clue what Akis had said in Greek of course, but watching Loula’s reaction had been enough to make him howl.

  “Consider yourself lucky!” Akis yelled out, a shadow crossing his face. “At least you’ll be away from the village soon. Knowing me, I’ll probably stay in this bar till the day I die.” He gave a wry smile. “I’ll be the first geriatric barman with arthritis and Alzheimer.”

  Sofia registered the wry smile, the wrinkled brow and the familiar shake of the head. She smiled back at him and pretended she’d seen nothing in all that. She still remembered the day he’d first voiced his discontent at being chained to this summer job, year after year. Since that day, comments such as these came quite often, and she wondered if he’d expressed his frustration to his parents. She guessed he hadn’t dared.

  As if on cue, Aunt Leni called her son from the open kitchen door, and he rushed to her. Sofia imagined they’d run out of some ingredient, and he was being called to get it from the storeroom around the back. Just as she’d thought, seconds later, he strode to the back yard.

  Sofia sat back in her chair and resumed enjoying her ice cream. Jeff, sitting beside her, had already finished his and was leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed, relishing the cool breeze and the quiet. She had to admit, he was a looker. She vaguely remembered what he had looked like the first day she’d let eyes on him; all pimply and pasty, but the ‘Corfiot sun’, as she liked to call the sunshine on the island, had turned him into a sexy Greek god. Still, she expected she would never let him get closer. At least, not now that she had finally got to understand Danny a bit better.

  Across from her, Loula finished her ice cream and put the glass bowl down, then wiped her mouth with a napkin and gave a long, easy sigh. “I say, this is the life! I’ll try to remember as of tomorrow when it’ll be others sitting here and I’ll be waiting tables like a busy bee on speed.”

  Her words made Sofia howl, much to Jeff’s mystification. She was about to translate for him when she saw a young girl approach. She wore a plain t-shirt and cotton slacks, a baseball hat and dark glasses, and her long dark hair hung in a ponytail. Sofia thought the girl seemed familiar, as she watched her approach the café from the promenade, a spring in her step, an urgency in her full motion. When she stepped off the promenade and onto the paved yard by their table, the girl stopped short. She took off her glasses and stared at Sofia.

  Sofia found herself recognising this girl. Of course! “Tracey!” she said and bolted upright to go up to her for a hug. Loula followed suit, shrieking at the girl, who seemed pleased to see them, yet quite preoccupied in a way too. As the girls introduced her to Jeff, explaining she was a loyal patron of Karavi from the previous summer, Tracey kept throwing glances at the bar that was still unmanned. In the end, shifting her weight from one foot to another, she finally asked Sofia, “Is Akis here? He’s not at the bar.” Her voice had a slight tremor.

  “Oh! Isn’t he? He’ll be back soon,” replied Loula, surprising Tracey with her command of English.

  “Blimey, your English has improved! Well done,” she managed, trying to get the conversation going, causing Loula to squeal with excitement at the compliment. Yet it was evident, at least to Sofia, that she had an urgency and couldn’t wait to see Akis.

  “He’s gone around the back to fetch some kitchen supplies,” spurted out Sofia thoughtfully, to which Tracey offered a sigh of relief and a nervous smile.

  “Everything okay, Tracey? Would you like to sit with us?” asked Loula, noticing for the first time that something wasn’t right.

  Tracey gave a nervous little laugh and waved the offer off. “Thank you but I won’t stay long. I just wanted to see Akis for a moment.”

  “When did you arrive? Akis didn’t say you’re back!” said Loula.

  “He doesn’t know. . . I arrived an hour ago,” she said with a tight smile. “A week’s holiday. I could stay longer, I might . . . but that will depend.”

  “That’s great, Tracey. It’ll be wonderful to have you around,” said Loula.

  Sofia wasn’t speaking any more. She was too busy watching Tracey now and didn’t like what she interpreted in her manner at all. She’d been there. Love had caused her the same kind of upset with Danny. This didn’t look good. This girl wasn’t here on just a friendly visit.

  Tracey kept looking away, eager for Akis to emerge from the far corner of the yard. As Loula asked her this and that, like where she stayed in Vassilaki, and what the weather was like back in England, Sofia noticed how Tracey clutched her tote bag between two restless hands, how she fiddled with her glasses that she’d placed on the crown of her baseball hat.

  And finally, with Loula midsentence, Tracey interrupted her with a loud, “I’m sorry, got to go,” when she saw Akis finally return, laden with two white plastic tubs and a large tin. She went to sit at the bar, ignoring the stunned looks on the face of the three, who went back to their seats around the table and pinned their eyes on her, mystified.

  Within a few seconds, Akis had delivered the supplies to the kitchen and returned behind the bar. He saw the girl in the hat and the dark glasses sitting there patiently, and he stood before her, thinking she was just another stranger. But then, and as the other three kept watching, Tracey took off her glasses slowly and issued him with a nervous smile that tugged at the corners of her lips with a slight tremble.

  Akis gawped for a few moments, but then his professional experience took over, an
d he broke into an excited laugh. He went around and walked up to her with open arms, cuddling her for a while. The girl seemed to take heart from that and when he went back behind the bar to offer her her favourite cocktail, she smiled widely at the realisation that after a year he still remembered.

  He made it with speed and dexterity before her eyes and delivered it with a sweeping, theatrical gesture and a confident smile, just like Tom Cruise in Cocktail. It was a stunning aquamarine concoction made with Blue Curacao that painted your tongue the same colour for hours later.

  “Oh goodness me, it’s like a re-run,” whispered Loula to Sofia, putting a hand over her mouth.

  “Do you think she’s come in the hope to resume the romance?” responded Sofia, flinching.

  “If she has, then she’s going to be disappointed. I don’t think Akis is up for that. Just last week he was cuddling and kissing another girl.”

  “He didn’t!”

  “Of course he did.” Loula waved her hand dismissively. “You know what he’s like! Typical Greek male.”

  What’s going on? Anyone care to fill me in?”

  “Sorry, Jeff . . . It’s just that this girl had a thing for Akis last summer, but for my cousin it was just fun. Looks like she’s come back to rekindle the romance, and we believe she’s bound to get heartbroken.”

  “Ouch!” he responded with a frown. “Poor thing.”

  Loula and Sofia nodded and joined Jeff, who watched the bar with a sympathetic look on his face.

  Still, the ambience at the bar seemed light-hearted enough. Tracey was enjoying her cocktail engaging Akis in what looked like harmless small talk while he went on about his business, issuing the odd smile and chuckle at her, as he wiped the counter and put away clean glasses.

  And then, it all seemed to change rapidly. Tracey’s voice was now reduced to a whisper. Instead of sitting straight on the stool, she had leaned forward. Both her elbows were on the counter now, her head tilted to one side as she spoke softly. She held a hand out, palm facing upwards, in a plea to make herself heard and understood.