Black Butterflies

by Sara Alexi

  ‘Do you think,’ Marina selects each word carefully, her speech slowing, ‘that being born and raised on an island, with a local family, makes it easier?’

  ‘Oh yes. My father was a barber before me, which helped to bring the old boys in, but I went to school with the majority of my clients.’ Panos really does have amazing teeth, so white. The whites of his eyes are very white too.

  Marina feels she is doing quite well and relaxes. ‘Yes, that would help, wouldn’t it. Do you think you got your skills from your dad?’

  ‘That’s what he says.’ Panos laughs and wraps his arms around himself again and leans back against the wall. ‘Mum says the old boys come in because I am the spitting image of her – she was a bit of a looker in her day. Bless her.’

  Panos looks at the floor and shakes his head. ‘I moved from the island to Athens for a while. I found the island too, how shall we say, limiting, for someone like me, for a while.’

  Marina feels she has lost the thread of the conversation somewhere and begins to frown. Panos catches the frown and shifts in his seat. At that moment footsteps can be heard on the steps and a young woman enters the room. Panos stands. Marina is immediately on the alert for signs that this is his girlfriend.

  ‘Hello,’ the woman says. Nice face, but doesn’t match Panos. She is wearing pale grey linen trousers with a white shirt over the top. She looks cool in the heat, her clothes are for comfort and her hair is tied in a loose knot by itself. Marina guesses it must be very long to be able to do that and thinks of the work it must take to wash and dry.

  Panos fills her in on Marina’s enquiry and the girl nods knowingly. There is something very calming about her, and Marina immediately likes her. Her voice is soothing and her movements graceful, no rush. She also looks very strong. Marina searches for the words to describe her. Sinewy! Practical. Yes, not one to avoid work for breaking a nail. She giggles and then coughs to cover it and says, ‘Hello, you must be Panos’ girlfriend? Or his wife?’

  Both the girl and Panos now laugh, but when they see Marina is not joining in they pull themselves together and Panos opens his mouth to speak. Apparently, their brief laughter has covered the sound of more footsteps on the stairs as a young man with golden hair unexpectedly strides into the room. Just as Panos is about to speak, and before the blonde man sees Marina, he ruffles the girl’s hair and leans across her to give Panos a lingering kiss on the lips. Marina cannot help her audible intake of breath.

  The golden-haired man starts, Panos blushes and the girl smiles serenely.

  ‘And here we have the reason I found the island difficult for a while and why I moved to Athens briefly …’ Panos grins at Marina. The blonde man says hello.

  Marina isn’t as taken aback as she thought she would be. Of course, she has read about such things and there is always gossip about one person or the other in the village and the usual teasing of the weaker boys growing up. But here are two men, neither weak, both, well, to be honest, very handsome, and they are, what would you call them, a couple. Marina feels strangely liberated. Why not, she thinks, and smiles warmly at the new man, and returns his hello.

  The young people relax as they see that Marina is neither shocked nor embarrassed. They all smile warmly at her. Marina considers how she must look to them. Her hair is greying a little, her skin is sun-worn, she is dressed in black and she is a little stout. To them she must look like a regular old woman. She doubts they expect a positive response from someone like her. She smiles, thinking of herself as a cool old lady, and then chastises herself for calling herself old, when she’s not even fifty yet.

  Marina stands and thanks them for their time. She can, obviously, cross this young man off the list of possibles as Eleni’s boyfriend. A shame, because she liked him, and his friends. They tell her to drop by any time if she wants to ‘hang out’. Her initial response is to check her blouse is tucked in, but fortunately this is misconstrued as a joke and makes them smile all the more, and they encourage her to return.

  She is about to leave but takes one last look out of the magnificent window and sees that the Zeus has gone. In its place a hydrofoil is tying up and the passengers are getting off. An old couple are struggling with the steps down from the vessel, and behind them is a girl who looks remarkably like Eleni.

  ‘Panayia!’ Marina exclaims to her god, and she can feel the blood drain from her face.

  The three friends turn to look out of the window to see what has caused their new friend such consternation, but they do not detect anything out of the ordinary. When they turn back to Marina she has gone, her feet slipping on the steps. She makes it down the last two on her bottom.

  The lace shops have taken in a great deal of their wares now the tourist boat has gone, and there is more room to move, but fewer places to hide. The lace left hanging is banging against the shutters as the wind has really picked up now.

  Thoughts race through Marina’s mind. Is Eleni here permanently? Has she moved early or has she just come for a day or two? She was not supposed to be starting work for another three months or so. Marina feels exposed and wants to return to her room to think things through. But that means passing through the open port area. She edges towards the harbour and scans the faces for Eleni. She cannot see her at first, but then spots her bending over, zipping up her case before standing to walk on, less than ten metres away. Marina tries to think. She could go up the lane she is on, inland, and try to find her way across town in the back streets but she would probably get lost, or … There is no ‘or’.

  Marina has spent too long thinking. Eleni begins to straighten right in front of her. Marina ducks into the nearest lace shop and grabs a piece of lace, which she holds up to the light on pretence of inspecting the detail, neatly obscuring her face. She can see Eleni though the holes. Eleni is walking slowly and searching her pocket for something. She evidently finds what she is looking for and she holds it in front of her and fiddles. It is her mobile phone.

  ‘She will be calling her lover to say she is here,’ Marina tells the lace.

  ‘Pardon?’ asks a little old lady behind the counter.

  Marina hadn’t noticed that the woman had put down the lace she was making on her stool and had come inside.

  ‘Beautiful work,’ Marina exclaims, and hitching her handbag further up her arm she exchanges the piece of lace she is holding for another with bigger holes. Eleni has stopped walking and is standing outside the shop with her phone to her ear.

  Marina hopes she will speak his name, and she moves towards the door with her lace disguise, to eavesdrop.

  A noise from Marina’s handbag startles her and she tells it to hush, hugging her bag to her chest with the lace over it, and retreating to the furthest corner of the shop with her back to the door. She scrabbles in her bag. The noise is coming from the mobile phone Artemis gave her. ‘For emergencies, Mum, you never know.’

  She looks at the phone blankly. The little old lady watches her.

  ‘I don’t know how to answer it! I never use it,’ she whispers to the widow clad in black. She feels sure that Eleni will have heard the noise and will spot her at any moment. Damn the noise it is making.

  The old lady leans over and presses a button with a little green phone on it and says, ‘Talk.’

  Marina puts the phone to her ear and tentatively answers, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mum? Mum, why are you whispering?’

  ‘Eleni?’ she turns to the door where Eleni is still standing, phone to her ear, with her back to Marina.

  ‘Mum, can you hear me? I have given notice on my flat in Piraeus but I have to wait till the first of the month to move in to the place on the island. They’ve given me a week off for the move so I’m coming home for a couple of days.’

  Marina turns and stares at the back of Eleni’s head. Her eyes widen.

  ‘But you said you weren’t moving for three months!’

  ‘They’ve brought it forward. I have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

&n
bsp; Marina turns, her mouth hanging slightly open, and watches Eleni pocket her phone and walk off up the lane, inland.

  ‘You finished talking?’ the old lady asks. Marina nods, and the old lady reaches across and presses a red button on the phone.

  ‘That will be five euros,’ she says.

  ‘For what?’ Marina asks, looking at her phone. The widow points to the scrunched piece of lace Marina has been balling in her free hand. Marina is surprised to see it there. She apologises for the lace and thanks the woman for her help at the same time, whilst she fishes in her bag to pay, and hurries from the shop down to the harbour front.

  The donkey man she met when she first arrived waves to her cheerfully. The hair he pulls across his bald head is whipping about in all directions in the wind. She hurries past, distracted, to the nearest taxi boat.

  ‘Ah ha! It is the lady who owes me a Greek dance halfway across the water. Hello, hello again.’ He offers his hand to shake, whereupon he takes hers and puts it to his lips and kisses it. Marina thinks this is a bit smooth but smiles, even though she is in a hurry.

  ‘Please can you take me to the little harbour and then across to the mainland?’

  ‘For you, pretty lady …’ he begins, but she has already jumped on board. He stands looking down at her.

  ‘Come on. Come on.’ Marina feels flustered. She has to get home before Eleni, or Costas might happily tell her she is on the island and then there would be explaining to do. The threads she is hanging on by are so tentative. She wipes away a tear at the thought.

  ‘But lady …’

  ‘Please just take me to the little harbour. I am in a hurry.’

  The man seems very relaxed and amused. ‘I can take you to the little …’ The roar of the engine drowns the rest of his sentence. He is smiling as he talks, and smoothing his hair back with his free hand.

  The little boat neatly backs out between the ever increasing (it seems to Marina) tally of yachts and boats. He swings the vessel round in the mouth of the inlet and powers off to the little harbour. The water seems very choppy, and a quantity of it makes its way inside the boat. The journey is not long.

  Marina is already on her feet before the rocking has ceased and clambers up the steps before the man has risen from his bouncy bucket seat. She leaps with more agility than she expects onto shore and shouts ‘Wait!’ to the captain, who smiles and salutes.

  Marina walks as briskly as she can to Zoe’s. She pulls her holdall from under the bed, makes a last check around the room and closes the door behind her.

  Zoe is happy for the cash and delighted that Marina says she will be returning in a few days. Bobby keeps trying to attract her attention, mouthing ‘What is going on?’, but Marina leaves before she can form a reply.

  Going back to the little harbour is easy, the gentle slope in her favour. With a sigh of relief she sees the taxi boat is still waiting.

  ‘Thank you for waiting. To the mainland, let’s go!’ Marina steps into the rocking craft.

  ‘Lady, I would love to take you, but as I said there is an Apagoreftiko!’

  ‘What? What do you mean? I need to go across! What’s an Apagoreftiko?’

  ‘Ah, you see, the wind. It has grown too strong. The port police, they say it is dangerously strong and they forbid all boats to leave the port. I can take you from the little port to the main port but I cannot take you out across open water. No one can leave. It is not allowed, it is an Apagoreftiko.’

  Marina’s adrenaline fever dissipates. She blows air through buzzing lips, deflating like a balloon. She rolls her weight forward and allows the man to help her onto the dock. She looks down into the clear water. She can see the bottom, she can see down to little fish swimming in the shade cast by the blue and white boat. On the surface a reflection of colours, unbroken on the harbour’s still water, the vessel’s hull clean and clear in its mirror image. The rope the man is holding sinks in an arch into the water and out again to the boat, tiny ripples around where it leaves the water to the prow.

  ‘Hey, lady, you look sad. Do you dislike the island so much?’ There is a bench by the edge of the harbour and he sits on it still holding the rope. He pats the bench next to him in invitation. Marina accepts and sits down.

  ‘Do you have children?’ She feels defeated.

  The man’s head rolls back with a loud ‘Ha ha!’ It sounds slightly bitter.

  ‘Lady, I have just found the right girl for me, just as the world goes crazy. We would love to get married and have children but we have no steady future. The world is an unsure place for young people today.’

  ‘What about your boat?’ It occurs to Marina that if she cannot leave, neither can Eleni, and this gives her hope.

  ‘The owner, a friend of mine, will be back for it at the end of the year and then …’

  ‘And then?’ Marina asks. Eleni might catch the first boat in the morning, and then a bus. If Marina takes a taxi boat at first light and drives directly she is sure to get home before her. She begins to relax, enjoying the sheltered corner they have found.

  ‘And then who knows, we may have to leave the island. Go to Athens, but what would I do there?’

  ‘Where are your parents?’

  ‘They live on the hill behind us.’ He gestures with his thumb. ‘They are farmers.’

  ‘Can you not work with them? You will inherit the farm?’ Marina wonders how early she should set out in the morning.

  ‘The farm is leased, they do not own it. When they die the lease will expire. It is only small, enough for them, but it is not a future for me.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’ She feels for the man. All this uncertainty, and still he smiles and is friendly and kind. There is no hurry for Marina now; she has time on her hands. The man has no work, the wind is too strong. They sit in an agreeable silence watching the waves whip up outside the little harbour. Where they sit is sheltered. They watch a dog wander around the boats pulled up on the shingle. It sniffs at the prow of one boat and is surprised by a cat that is lazing in the sun. The cat leaps up on all fours and fluffs out its tail to a ridiculous size and lashes at the dog, which whimpers and backs off. Marina and the man laugh, and they continue to sit. After a while he points out a starfish to her. A while after that she pats him farewell on the knee as she stands and she wanders back to Zoe’s.

  Chapter 9

  Marina slips the key under Zoe’s door. It is too early to wake her.

  The taxi boat is waiting in the little harbour as she has arranged. The captain looks sleepy, but his shirt is ironed and today he has polished grey leather shoes with quite pointed toes. To Marina they look modern, but she suspects by the shine of the polish that he has had them for some time.

  ‘Good morning, my lovely lady friend.’ He smiles and offers his hand for her to board.

  ‘Good morning, captain. I am glad the wind has died down.’

  ‘Me too. Today I will be busy taking all the stuck people to where they want to be.’

  He slides into his leather armchair, starts the engine, and then turns to give Marina a curious smile before he switches on the radio mounted in a plywood box, and Greek music fills the cabin. Marina laughs and wags a finger at him to let him know she will still not dance with him. He dances by himself all the way across, one hand on the wheel.

  When he pulls alongside the pier at the mainland and throws a rope over the bollard, the music is still playing. He takes Marina’s bag on shore, and as she begins to climb off the boat he spreads his arms horizontally and with an ‘Opa’ he begins to dance, circling Marina as she reaches for her bag.

  ‘One last dance to remember me by?’ he teases Marina.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, I am old enough to be your mum, and besides I will be back in a day or two.’

  ‘Lady, you will dance with me at my wedding, for then you will not be able to say no to me and my bride!’ He winks at her, jumps aboard, and is off.

  Marina watches him go, thinking what a pleasant man he is. She lo
oks across to the island and tries to picture what his fiancée will look like. Far across the water, the hydrofoil pulls out of the harbour.

  ‘Panayia mou! Eleni could be on that.’ She scrabbles for her car keys.

  She thanks God that the car starts first time, and she heads over the hills for home.

  The road is narrow and winding, over the mountains and through olive groves, and it takes a long time. As she approaches the village her stomach begins to rumble. She has had no breakfast. Never mind, it is only another five or six kilometres. She rounds a bend with thoughts of fresh bread, olive oil, and oregano ...

  A herd of goats blocks the road ahead. Marina slows and tries to edge past but there are too many of them, she will have to wait. She looks around for the goat herder and his dog but they are nowhere to be seen. The goats amble at a lazy pace, stopping to eat from a bush here, standing still for no apparent reason there, and eyeing her blankly. Marina figures that they are being taken either from pasture or to it. Either way, they will turn off the road soon.

  But they continue on the road, and Marina glances anxiously at the clock in the car. Time is passing and the goats are showing no signs of concluding their stately meanderings. Marina hoots her horn. The goats at the back turn to look at her and then continue on their way unperturbed. Marina revs the engine and drives as close as she dares to their tails. The ones nearest her skit and jump, but the herd still continues its leisurely pace, stopping for a bite to eat at will.

  At this rate Eleni’s bus will be in the village before her. She edges even closer to the goats and slowly they begin to part. The car crawls forward into the sea of white, black and tan. The goats nearer the front have long curling horns. Marina decides that her haste is more important than the car’s paintwork. She revs and honks and finally breaks free in front of the bleating tide.

  She increases the pressure on the accelerator and takes off, but behind the sweet papers and the packets of cable ties on her dashboard there is a red light. She sweeps the wrappers onto the floor and throws the cable ties in the back. The dial indicates that the engine is overheating. Crawling at a snail’s pace through the goat herd was too much for the old car. The indicator is on the edge of the red section. Marina changes up a gear, hoping that this will ease the pressure on the engine and the speed will cool everything down, but the needle goes even higher.