by Gary Cleaver
Costas looked around the pitch and up into the lights.
“I’ve always thought that this game of ours should be about that and nothing else, I got into it because I loved it, I stayed in it all these years because I discovered that I am not much good at anything else, and I suppose I stayed because there is always one more night like tonight, isn’t that what life itself is like?”
George slapped his good knee. “Ha! Perhaps you have missed your calling after all Costa, maybe you should try philosophy instead”
Costas laughed with him. “A Greek philosopher? Who ever heard of such a thing?”
George got up and made his way slowly down to join him on the touchline. “Come Costa, come to my place and enjoy the worship of your boys for an hour or two, or until they are too drunk to know who you are any more.”
At this there was a loud roar from the direction of the sea front, Costas sighed and shook his head.
“I think that boat might have sailed already George.”
They walked slowly, arm in arm to the gate, as they got there Costas broke away and went over to the switch box and flicked the six black switches, the lights faded and darkness descended on the home of AFC Katsimila. Until the next time.
White’s Gold
“Trust me Aspro, if things do not get better they will stay exactly the same … for they surely cannot get any worse.”
Aspro made no reply, he scratched his ear and adjusted his position on the coil of rope on which he sat, Iannis looked up at the leaden sky.
“We will persevere for one more hour, my friend and then we will go home, I think little Danae has had enough for one day, don’t you?”
Again no comment from Aspro who merely yawned and closed his eyes. Iannis Tourtakis, his boat Danae and his constant companion Aspro, a seven year old Terrier/ Beagle cross were five kilometres out into the gulf and six kilometres north of Katsimila; the usually reliable weather of early May had not been on their side, under the overcast a strong wind whipped the sea into a confused chop and even Danae’s normally friendly roll had become a sickening wallow which made fishing uncomfortable and tiring. Before the hour was up he decided that they would all be happier at home, he started to winch in the nets, as he expected they were nearly empty aside from a few small codfish which, when sold would not even cover that days fuel bill. He heaped the nets on the foredeck then turned to the four stout handlines that he always left out when the nets were down, each of these went nearly thirty metres toward the sea bed where, he always hoped, a big tuna might happen upon one. They were not common in these waters but grew large and fetched a good price, he pulled up three of the lines and was about to start on the fourth when, without warning, it snapped taught, he stared at it for a while gently rubbing his chin.
“Well Aspro what do you think, snagged on something? Or perhaps, just perhaps, a change in our luck?”
Without moving towards the line he put on a pair of battered canvas gloves, he took up the slack end of the line, passed it over the winch and began to wind his prize to the surface. After a few minutes the tough wire trace at the end of the line appeared, whatever it was would soon be in sight. He looked over the side, a large yellow fin tuna was precisely what was needed, his luck had been poor lately, he felt he deserved it, a shape came into view and his heart leapt, but it wasn’t a tuna, it was a shark.
It was a little over one metre in length and he judged it to be between fifteen and twenty kilos. He grunted with disappointment, it would be hard work for little return other than the chance to show off a rare catch on his arrival back in harbour. He took down a sharp gaff hook from the rail on the side of the tiny wheelhouse, went back over to the side and waited. When the fish was almost at the surface he raised the hook and struck, his years of experience did not let him down, though the shark still quivered he knew it was dead, he stood back and allowed the winch to pull it clear of the water before stopping the motor. Aspro did not get up, even he was not impressed. Iannis looked the fish over, it was a short finned Mako shark and though not common to the Saronic gulf it was certainly not unknown, when he was sure it was beyond doing serious damage with its small, dagger like teeth, he lowered it to the deck. He reached to his belt, unsheathed his knife and gutted the beast with one practised sweep, Aspro stood and for the first time all day became enthusiastic, it was time for him to go to work, he made a dive for the sharks’ insides and polished them off at speed, leaving only an array of small, blood soaked pebbles. Iannis stooped to pick them up and throw them over the side but one caught his eye. It was a perfect heart shape, he removed one glove and held it up between thumb and forefinger, and it came up from the deck trailing a short length of fine chain. Holding it firmly he thrust it into the water to clean it, when he brought it back, washed of blood and viscera he opened his hand and looked.
“Aspro my boy this could well be our lucky day after all.”
Aspro sniffed at the gold locket, decided it was inedible and therefore none of his business, went back to his coil of rope and lay down.
The shark and the strange contents of its stomach had made him late, the weather had worsened and Danae leapt awkwardly over the swells towards home. Sitting at the tiller on the stern Iannis hummed an old folk tune and smoked his pipe. The sea was rough, but not worryingly so, little Danae was a Caique, an ancient design wonderfully suited to her environment and he had been sailing these waters for over fifty years, man and boy as his creased and tanned face testified. He gave the tiller an affectionate pat.
”We are not as young as we used to be, but it takes more than a rough afternoon to trouble us.”
But with two kilometres still to go before they reached the shelter of the bay something went wrong, with no warning a high pitched whine began under his feet. He knew at once it was the propeller shaft, if it seized or fractured out here they were in trouble, he eased the throttle back and slowed the boat as much as he dared, it didn’t seem to do any good but at least the noise got no worse. Twenty five anxious minutes later, with the last of the light fading from the sky they reached the entrance to the harbour and with relief Iannis turned the wounded Danae into her berth at the quayside, his was the last boat in. Costas Leonidies, who served as the fishing fleets engineer was standing nearby talking to one of the other skippers, Iannis called him over and told him about his trouble. Costas opened the inspection hatch and went down to check the ailing transmission.
“Bad I’m afraid” he said, wiping his hands on a rag, “Bearings are shot and we may have to rebuild the gearbox entirely”
Iannis sighed, “That will cost too much for me Costas”
Costas shook his head. ”About four hundred I’d say, she’s an old lady, Ianni, she should maybe retire.”
Iannis managed a short laugh, “What you mean is maybe we should both retire.”
It was fully dark when Iannis got back to his small house at the end of the lane that led to the church, he was tired out, Aspro too, was making slow progress. Once inside, Iannis made a late supper for them both, afterwards they sat in the living room and he turned on the television. He flipped around to the sports channel, it was showing a baseball game, he grunted, a ridiculous game that he had never understood, he carried on through the channels until he found an old comedy movie and sat back, not really watching with Aspro curled up at his feet. He remembered the locket, he fished about in his trouser pocket until he found it, he rolled it around in his hand, but he wasn’t concentrating on it, instead he was thinking about Danae. Iannis had received, like all the fishermen in the area, official notification from the government, owing to the overfishing of inshore waters they were all being offered compensation of eleven thousand Euros to scrap their boats, perhaps it was time for him to make good use of this offer, he was sixty four after all and could not carry on for much longer. Aspro, too, was old for a Greek dog, even one as well looked after as he was. He looked down at the locket and decided he must try and find out something about it, he could not go out
tomorrow with Danae in her current state so he would go to see Pavlos Simionidis. Until his recent retirement, Pavlos had kept a jewellery store, he would know things about it.
The next morning he went, as early as politeness allowed, to Simionidis’ house, he showed him the locket. Pavlos took it and went to a drawer in his desk, he took out an eyeglass and a selection of slim, delicate tools, he studied it in silence for a while.
“Interesting, where did you come across it?”
Iannis kept his face serious, “Inside a shark.”
“How, in Gods name, did it get in there?”
Iannis chuckled, “It’s not so strange as you would think Pavlos, the shark has no swim bladder, sometimes he becomes light and cannot control his buoyancy, so like any good mariner he takes on ballast, he swims down to the sea bed and swallows whatever he finds to gain weight, sand and stones mostly, it seems my shark came across something of value”
Pavlos shook his head in wonder, then went back to his studying.
“Valuable it certainly is Ianni, eighteen carat gold, although the chain, unless I am mistaken is only nine carat,” he rolled it over. “No inscription or initials.” He looked at Iannis, “Shall we take a look inside?”
Iannis nodded and Pavlos selected a long, thin, sharp instrument, he gently pried at the seam, with surprising ease the locket popped open. Iannis took out his reading glasses and propped them on his nose. Inside was a small photograph in black and white, a man who he guessed would be in his early twenties, though his wide moustache looked as if it had been grown to make him look older.
“Well that’s it” said Iannis, “Just an old photograph, could be anyone”
Pavlos held up one hand “Wait, there may be something on the back”
He carefully levered the picture out of the casing, there was nothing on the back, “Well it was worth a try, just a moment, what is this?”
Inside the locket where the photograph had been was a tiny slip of paper, Pavlos took his tweezers, gently removed it and opened it out.
“It’s a message, and at the bottom what looks like a name, but it is English I think, I certainly cannot read it”
Iannis thought for a moment.
“Perhaps Lambakis can help us.”
Now both intrigued and enthused with their detective work they took the locket, the photograph and the message and made their way down to Dimitris Lambakis shop in the harbour.
“To my darling Miranda on our engagement, with all my love, eternally, Roger Furneaux-Collison 8th Sept 1932
“There you have it,” said Dimitris. “The whole story, a long time ago. I’d wager that if either Miranda or Roger is still alive they will be very old indeed.”
Pavlos turned to Iannis, “I can take this to an old colleague of mine and have it properly valued, it may be worth a considerable sum”
Iannis shook his head,”I don’t know why but that doesn’t seem right, I would like to know more of these people, how would I go about that Dimitri?”
Lambakis thought for a moment, then smiled, “We may be in luck, there is an Englishman living here whose hobby is genealogy, he traces people and their family trees, I think he may be just the person we need”
He promised to make a phone call, the Englishman was a regular customer and wouldn’t be difficult to find. Iannis went home and found Aspro snoring under a fig tree in the garden.
“I see you too have had a busy morning,” the dog woke up, as if in reply his tail flopped up and down three times.
Dimitris finished trimming the remains of Bryan Grayling’s white hair, the retired chartered accountant from Ipswich was a small neat man in every sense of those words, even his leisurewear was neat to the point of being stressed. Dimitris explained the contents of the locket to him.
“Shouldn’t be too difficult to track down a family member, you’re quite right it is a most unusual name, I don’t believe I’ve ever come across it before, I’ll start with my people finder sites and see what comes up.”
At eight o’clock that evening Dimitris was sweeping out the shop, there were no more appointments in the book for that day and the streets outside were quiet, he decided to close early and go to the Artemis for a beer. Along the way he saw Iannis standing beside his boat, he went over and joined him, Aspro was already on board, sitting beside the tiller at the stern.
Iannis sighed, “I have called him three times, but he seems very determined, in his mind when we come down here, we go out there, he’s a simple soul.”
Dimitris looked down at the boat. “I hear it will be a big job to put little Danae back in business.”
“You can say that again, I do not have such a sum, perhaps the bank … but I don’t know” he shrugged and shook his head.
They were interrupted by the arrival on the quay of a white Suzuki jeep, the steering wheel was on the wrong side and there was a fair sized union jack on one of the doors. Bryan got out and came to join them, as he spoke Dimitris translated for Iannis.
”Well it was easier than I thought Dimitri, there are only three people in the whole of the UK with that name, I managed to get an e-mail off to two of them … and I think we’ve got a bite!”
At the end of the week Bryan came back to Dimitris’ shop to tell him that the contact he had made was convinced that the locket had belonged to his late mother, he was so certain that he would be making the journey from his home in England to Katsimila within the next few days. Dimitris went to Iannis’ house later in the evening to tell him.
“That is wonderful news Dimitri, I knew it would be wrong to sell the thing, yes the money would have been welcome, perhaps enough to fix my boat, but it is better this way, much better.”
When Lambakis had gone Iannis sat in his chair, took out the locket and looked at it for a while, Aspro came over and sniffed it, he smiled and rubbed the dog’s ear.
“If nothing else, my boy, we will have quite a story to tell, and no one tells stories like a fisherman.”
On the following Wednesday morning the telephone rang and he was summoned once more to Dimitris’ shop. He put the locket in a brown paper bag which had formerly contained bananas from the supermarket and made his way down to the harbour, Aspro, like a tiny bodyguard fell in step behind him.
On arrival he found Dimitris, Bryan and Pavlos waiting for him, with them stood a tall, slender, gaunt looking man with very short, iron grey hair. Iannis thought he was slightly older than himself, around seventy he guessed.
Without waiting for an introduction the man advanced and proffered his hand, “My name is Peter Furneaux-Collison and I am honoured to meet you”
Iannis shook the man’s hand and looked quizzically at Dimitris who became aware that he was standing with two Englishmen and two Greeks none of whom spoke anything other than their own languages. He announced that he would try to translate for everyone. Peter asked Iannis for the locket, he turned it over in his hand for a few seconds.
“Well there’s a thing” he whispered, he closed his eyes and shook his head, he took a moment seeming to gather himself, then he began to speak, slowly, carefully, giving Dimitris the best chance of keeping up. “The picture inside this locket is of my late father, in 1929 he was serving as first mate on a schooner in Sardinia. My mother was one of the passengers; according to her it was love at first sight. When my father proposed to her, as well as the ring he gave her this, they married in 1934, my sister Elizabeth was born a year later and I arrived in 1938. When the war came he joined the royal navy, in the winter of 1944 he was serving on board HMS Mahratta, on the way to north Russia the ship was torpedoed, there were only a handful of survivors, my father was not among them.” He paused to pick up a bottle of water from the shelf in front of the big mirrors, he took a sip and then replaced it. Throughout the other four remained motionless and silent, he cleared his throat and resumed.
“My mother must have been almost consumed with grief, but she was a strong woman and she considered her children as first priority, she
therefore channelled her energies into us. My memory is of a perfectly normal, happy childhood. But she never really got over the loss and she never remarried. Some years after the war she brought the two of us here to Greece for a holiday, she chose to charter a yacht, she always loved sailing, it was the year my sister finished university and the year before I started.”
He reached down between his feet to a black leather shoulder bag and pulled out a slim hard backed book, a single word, which Iannis could not read, was embossed in gold on the cover.
”My mother always kept a journal, I have more than fifty of these I really should try to get them published one day.” He opened the volume at a marked page, the book was obviously old but impeccably well kept, rather like him; he hooked his glasses over his long nose and began to read.
August 23rd 1956
A disastrous day! It began well enough, we left our overnight anchorage in a bay to the west of Methena at mid day, a short run through the afternoon would bring us to Epidavros and our intended excursion to the ancient theatre there, the wind was fresh and the sea moderate, on the way we had a small mishap which seemed trivial at the time, Elizabeth was making her way along the deck to join us in the cockpit, as she reached us she tripped and would most certainly have fallen overboard, I made a grab for her and she for me and somehow I pulled her in. It was more than an hour later that I realised that my gold locket was gone, there was a red mark on my neck where the chain had snagged. I am at a loss to describe how upset I am, I have many mementoes of my dear Roger but the locket was special, it grieves me so to think that I shall never see it again. I suppose I should say this, the finest mementoes I have of my darling husband are Elizabeth and Peter and if anything were to happen to either I do not know what I should do, so I should be thankful. And if I had to lose my precious locket it is perhaps fitting that I should lose it, as I lost him, to the sea. The weather remains……