'Kalispera; replied Elena. She glanced at her husband. 'You remember,' she prompted. 'This is the Englishman who was here yesterday.'
Nikos nodded. 'Kalispera;' he said.
'Kalispera:' Haldane surveyed the row of bottles on the shelf behind the counter. 'An ouzo I think, please.'
Nikos reached for a bottle and poured his drink.
'You like Elounda, eh?' said Elena.
Haldane smiled again. 'Very much. That's why I have come back. To stay.'
Elena frowned a little. 'You want a room?' she asked. 'We have one. But only for a week and then we are all booked I am afraid.'
Haldane shook his head. 'Thank you', he said. 'But I am planning on being here longer than that. And Babis Spiridakis has kindly lent me the house he has here.' He smiled, remembering the lawyer's reluctance to do so and the lengthy argument it had taken to persuade him. 'So you see,' he continued. 'We shall almost be neighbours.'
Nikos put Haldane's drink down on the counter. 'Good. Then we shall see much of you. Yes?' Elena said with a polite smile.
Haldane studied her. 'Yes. You will. That's a promise.'
'I am glad,' she replied. 'But you must excuse me now. I have to see that things are going well in the kitchen.' She moved out from behind the counter and disappeared from view through the archway.
Haldane watched her go and then looked at Nikos and took out some money to pay for his drink. Nikos waved it away. 'Please,' he said. 'To welcome you to Elounda.'
'Thank you.' Haldane was touched by the gesture. He raised his glass. 'Stin iyassou.'
Nikos nodded. 'Episis.' Then he left Haldane to take the order of a customer at the far end of the counter.
Sipping his drink, Haldane turned to study two men who were playing tavli at a nearby table. They were locked in fierce and dedicated combat. each man with his own loud supporters and critics.
Haldane smiled and then glanced in the direction of the doorway to the patio and reacted with a start and straightened up. Annika Zeferis was standing just inside the bar. She saw him and it was obvious from her expression that she was as surprised as he was. And just as pleased.
Haldane put his glass down on the counter and crossed to her. 'Hello,' he said quietly.
She smiled. 'Hello.'
'I drove out to your house this morning,' he said. 'But you weren't there.'
'No. I was at the factory.' She frowned. 'Why did you want to see me?'
'To tell you that I am staying on Crete. For some time.' He shrugged. 'Perhaps forever. I wanted you to know that it's no longer just a holiday for me.'
Annika studied him. 'I see,' she said. 'That is a big step to take. What made you decide on it?'
'I think I may have found what I was looking for.'
Annika studied his face, only partly misinterpreting his expression.
'I was going to come and see you again tomorrow,' he went on. 'I certainly didn't expect to meet you here. Quite a coincidence.'
She shrugged. 'Not really. I come here often.' And then she told him and he knew why he had felt as he did when he first met her. And just who it was she had reminded him of. The chill realisation was saddening and forbidding. 'You see the taverna belongs to my niece,' she said. 'Elena's mother was my sister.'
Katerina Matakis sat in one of the upright armchairs in the sitting room of her house in Neapolis, staring into space. Ever since Noukakis had told her that Alan Haldane was back on Crete she had been deeply troubled and she had not been able to dismiss the thought from her mind.
Wearily she got up from the chair and crossed to the ornate cabinet. She opened one of its drawers and lifted from it a wooden box which she carried over to the table and then she unlocked it with a key which she took from her pocket. She removed a bundle of documents from the box and then reached into it again and produced three letters. She stared at them. There were English stamps on all three envelopes and they were postmarked 1945. The envelopes were all addressed to Melina Matakis and they had all been opened.
Katerina's hand closed round the letters in a savage grip and when she looked up from them her normally serene face was contorted with hatred.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Haldane clambered up through the hatch and back onto the deck of the caique again. He wiped his hands on his handkerchief and stamped on the planking, testing its soundness. Topside, the woodwork was in a surprisingly good condition but below deck it was a very different story. The hull was badly holed in four places and much of the straking was rotten. Still, with the modifications, that would all have to go anyway, he thought.
He'd spotted the old boat shortly after his arrival in Elounda. It was lying, beached and derelict, on a patch of rough ground above the small beach which edged the curve of land beyond the moorings where the local fishing fleet tied up. Haldane had reckoned that it must have been built fifty years ago and abandoned for at least five. It had interested him then and, during the two weeks he had been in the village, nearly every day he had taken another look at it. And over that time he'd come to see the possibilities in it and a positive and exciting picture had formed in his mind of how it could be rebuilt, retaining its traditional lines but refashioned to his own design.
He heard Nikos calling him and looked up to see him approaching across the open space in front of the taverna. 'He is here, Kyrie Haldane,' he said, as he came up alongside the caique. 'Waiting at the taverna.'
'Good,' said Haldane. He swung his legs over the rail and dropped down onto the ground.
Nikos was studying the boat critically and with disdain. 'Do you really want to buy this?' he said.
Haldane nodded. 'If the price is right.'
'It is a wreck,' said Nikos scornfully.
'Not quite. The frame and beams are sound enough.
And the keel.'
'It has no engine.'
Haldane shook his head. 'She was built to have sails, Nikos. And she'll have them again if I buy her.'
'But that is the way it used to be,' Nikos replied contemptuously. 'Today caiques have engines. That is progress. '
'Is it?' said Haldane thoughtfully. 'For you perhaps. But I wonder.'
Together they turned and walked away from the caique towards the taverna.
As they approached the doorway Alexis came running out. He saw Haldane and smiled but he did not stop. 'Kalimera, Kyrie 'Aldane ,' he called out.
'Kalimera, Alexis.'
Nikos grabbed his son, checked his flight and pulled him towards him. 'Where are you going?' he demanded in Greek.
'To play,' said the boy.
'Does your mother know?'
'Yes.'
Nikos released him. 'Well walk. Don't run.'
'But I am late,' pleaded Alexis. 'The others are waiting.' And he ran off.
Nikos looked at the Englishman and raised his eyes in despair.
'He is a real boy. Your son, eh Nikos?' said Haldane with a smile as he watched the boy run down the street. And he's my grandson, he thought. And intermingled with his secret pride was feeling of sadness and loss.
Nikos shrugged. 'I think sometimes that his mother spoils him,' he muttered. He led the way into the taverna.
Elena was standing behind the bar counter wiping the top of it with a cloth. She looked up and smiled at Haldane. 'Kalimera.'
'Kalimera, Elena,' said Haldane, returning her smile.
Sitting on a stool at the counter was a dour looking man in his seventies, a peasant with skin the colour and texture of cracked leather and a heavy, unkempt moustache. There was a cup of coffee and a glass of water on the counter before him. His eyes were on Haldane's face as the Englishman followed Nikos down the length of the bar.
'This is Andreas Hagieleftheris,' Nikos said to Haldane. 'He owns the boat. He speaks no English so I will speak for you, yes?'
Haldane nodded. It would probably be easier that way.
'A coffee?' asked Elna.
Haldane shook his head. 'No thank you. Later perhaps. '
Nik
os spoke to the old man in Greek. 'This is the kyrios
I told you about,' he said. 'The Englishman who is interested in that old caique of yours.'
Still studying the Englishman intently and thoughtfully, Hagieleftheris nodded. Nikos turned to Haldane and said in English. 'You must not accept the first price he asks. You must bargain.'
'Of course. So ask him how much he wants for it.'
Nikos turned back to the old man. 'The kyrios wants to know what price you put on the boat, Andreas.'
Hagieleftheris hesitated. Haldane was beginning to feel slightly embarrassed by his unwavering stare. Not once had the old man taken his eyes from his face.
'Well,' Nikos demanded 'How much?'
Hagieleftheris said something in reply but his accent was too thick for Haldane to understand. Nikos looked surprised and glanced at Elena. Then he turned to Haldane again. 'Andreas says that the caique is not worth any money,' he said. And he was clearly at a loss. This was certainly not the way Cretans normally did business.
'Yes it is,' insisted Haldane. 'It needs a lot doing to it but it can be made to sail again. And I know about boats. It's my work. So I would like to buy it. At the right price.'
Nikos shrugged and spoke to the old man once more. 'The kyrios says ... '
Hagieleftberis, continuing to gaze at Haldane, interrupted. Again Haldane did not understand what he said but Nikos reacted to it and so did Elena. When Nikos turned to the Englishman there was a stunned look on his face. 'He wants to know,' he said, 'If you are the one who fought with Babis Spiridakis and the Andarte in the war. He asks if you are Leandros.'
Haldane nodded. 'Yes. That is what they called me.'
Nikos was impressed and it showed. Both he and Elena regarded Haldane and their expressions betrayed a new interest in the Englishman and a greatly increased respect for him.
'Yes,' Nikos said to the old man. 'He is Leandros.' Hagieleftheris nodded solemnly. He spoke again. Nikos translated. 'Andreas says that he remembers you. And what you did during the war. The caique is yours. For no money. As a present.'
'No, that's not possible,' Haldane protested. 'I can't
accept... '
'You will hurt him if you refuse,' Elena said urgently, breaking in on him. 'He says he would give more. Everything he owns to such a man as Leandros. You must accept.'
Nikos nodded. 'Elena is right,' he said quietly.
Haldane studied the old man and hesitated. And then, for the first time, Hagieleftheris smiled. 'Endaksi, Leandros?' he asked.
Haldane saw that he had no choice if he were not to give' offence. He nodded his agreement. 'Endaksi, Andreas,' he replied with a smile. 'Efharistopli.'
The old man waved away his thanks. 'Parakalo.' Then his smile faded. Not without difficulty he got to his feet and then impetuously he took Haldane into his arms. The Englishman responded to the embrace. And this time when Hagieleftheris spoke he understood him. 'It is I who thank you,' said the old man. He released Haldane, gazed into his face once more and then turned from him and moved slowly away down the bar. In the doorway he paused and looked back. 'Andio, Leandros,' he called.
Haldane waved. 'Sto kalo.’
Hagieleftheris looked at Nikos and Elena and his farewell words were again too thickly accented for Haldane to follow them. Then the old man stepped out onto the forecourt and lumbered away out of sight.
Nikos gazed after him nodding thoughtfully. When he spoke it was in a low tone. 'He said that we are honoured by your presence here.' He looked at Haldane. 'And he is right. We are.' He smiled. 'But why did you not tell us? For two weeks you have been here in Elounda and you said nothing.'
Haldane shrugged. 'It was a long time ago. The war is best forgotten. And it can have meant little to you and Elena.'
'Perhaps not,' replied Nikos. 'But the story of Leandros is known to everyone in Crete.'
'And my father also fought with Babis Spiridakis,' said Elena proudly.
'Ah, Babis!' said Haldane. 'Now his is a name that must be remembered. Always. As a true patriot. And a great fighter. He was The Eagle.'
Nikos laughed. 'And Leandros was the steel in his ... ' He looked at Elena and demonstrated, holding his fingers like claws. 'How do you say it?'
'Talons,' said Elena.
'Yes,' nodded Nikos. 'You were the steel in The Eagle's talons. '
Haldane smiled. 'Well, I helped to sharpen them anyway.'
'Did you know my father? Stelios Papadakis,' asked Elena eagerly.
'Yes,' he said quietly. 'I knew him, Elena. Babis told me that he was killed in nineteen forty nine.' Elena nodded. 'He was a fine man.'
Nikos moved round behind the bar and poured two rakis.
'I was only a child when he was killed,' said Elena. 'But my mother often spoke to me about him. She is dead now also. Four years ago.'
'I'm sorry,' Haldane said lamely.
Nikos picked up one of the glasses of raki and slid the other across the counter to Haldane. 'Kyrie
Haldane.' Haldane corrected him. 'Alan.'
"Leandros?' enquired Nikos hesitantly. 'May we call you Leandros?'
Haldane nodded. 'I'd be very pleased,' he said with a smile.
'Our house is your house.'
'Thank you.'
Nikos raised his glass in salute. 'Yassou,' he cried.
'Yamass,' said Haldane, and he downed his drink in
one swallow.
Babis Spiridakis' house was less than three hundred yards from the taverna and when Haldane left Elena and Nikos he made straight for it.
He had much to do. The things he had asked David to send him from England by air freight had been delivered late the previous afternoon and he had not yet unpacked them. And he knew that he had to have some of his personal possessions around him before he would feel truly at home in the village. Then he would have to start work immediately on developing and costing the counterproposition which he intended to put to Elena and Nikos, a proposition which had only been a hazy notion a fortnight ago but which had now taken on a more or less positive shape in his mind. But he had to have it all cut and dried and everything down on paper before he could even make the first approach to them with it. And that was going to take time. Quite a lot of time. And meanwhile he could only hope that Elena would continue to resist the pressures on her to sell. It was going to take a lot of concentrated effort on his part before he would be in a position to make his move but at least he now had the caique to work on as relaxation and that pleased him.
And then there was Annika. He pictured her in his mind but then hastily dismissed the image. He must not think about Annika and suddenly he was grateful for all the demands on his time and preoccupation which lay ahead of him.
Spiridakis' house faced the sea across the road which ran through the village. It was a three-storey building erected at the turn of the century and more Turkish than Cretan in style. The ground floor had once served as a vast storeroom and still fulfilled that purpose but was now also the garage. A stone stairway ran up the side of the house to the front door on the floor above where a balcony fronted on to the road and overlooked the sea. At the rear of the house there was a terrace and a small, walled garden.
As Haldane climbed the steps a car pulled up at the kerb and the driver tapped the horn. He paused and looked round. It was Babis Spiridakis.
The lawyer smiled and waved and then got out of his car and mounted the steps. Haldane was surprised but pleased to see him.
'I have been to see a client in Aghios Nikolaos, , Spiridakis explained. 'At the office there is nothing but work. But here in Elounda is my brother, Leandros.' His smile broadened. 'It was not a difficult choice to stop on my way back to Heraklion.'
'I'm glad you did,' said Haldane. 'Come on in.' He led the way up the rest of the steps and into the house.
The first floor had been skilfully and tastefully converted into an open-plan living area on two levels. Against one wall a wooden staircase led up to the two bedrooms and the bathroom on
the floor above and to one side of the staircase was a doorway through to the kitchen and the terrace beyond it.
The single spacious room, warm in winter and cool in summer, was alive with colour. The friendly furniture consisted of a mixture of antique Cretan pieces and twentieth-century discernment. There was an open fireplace in a stone surround, stacked against which was a pile of logs. Wall-length windows opened on to the balcony at the front of the house.
Haldane closed the front door. 'Coffee? A drink?' he asked.
Spiridakis shook his head. 'No thank you. Nothing.' Unfortunately I cannot stay long. I'm flying to Athens this afternoon.' He moved further into the room and looked around.
'Oh? How long will you be away?' enquired Haldane.
Spiridakis shrugged. 'Four, five days. I have a case which comes up in court tomorrow. And I must also meet with those who try to persuade me to go back into politics.
'That's a possibility?'
'No. And they must know that. Once and for all.'
'Perhaps they'll change your mind,' Haldane said with a smile.
'No,' replied Spiridakis firmly. 'To be worth anything a politician must at least believe that he can alter things. For the better. I no longer do. It is no mere coincidence that both democracy and tyranny are Greek words. In this country there is an inevitability about the way one follows on the heels of the other.' He sighed. 'It is a drama I do not wish to play a part in any more.' Then, pointedly, he changed the subject. 'So. How is it with you, Leandros?'
Haldane pulled out his tobacco pouch and his pipe and began to fill it. 'Fine. I've bought a caique. Or rather I was given one. By a man called Andreas Hagieleftheris.'
The lawyer thought for a moment and then nodded. 'I know him,' he said. 'His two brothers were among the hostages taken after the Kreipe kidnapping. They were both executed.'
'It's a generous gift.'
Who Pays the Ferryman Page 6