by Jo Bunt
I slumped down into the sand beside him. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It was, yeah. It was so different from back home. When we first got here we went straight in the sea in February. The locals thought we were crazy. I was so hot that first summer I used to lie in a bath of cold water to cool down.” He laughed at himself and shook his head. “She was always searching for something, your mum, some new adventure. I hope she found it.”
“I’m not sure that she has. I think that everything got a bit dull when she moved back to England. Certainly not so much snorkelling.”
“Did she go back to Bedford? See her mum?” Eddie asked genuinely interested.
“No. Well, not that I know of. After her mum died she had to head back a couple of times to arrange the sale of the house and stuff but I don’t think there was any love lost between the two of them from what I can gather. But you’d know more about that than I do.”
“Her mum was a piece of work. She never approved of me. But then, if I’d had a daughter I wouldn’t have approved of me either.” He chuckled. His face suddenly dropped as he looked to me. “So she’s remarried then?”
“What?”
“The divorce. The solicitor said she was getting remarried.”
“Oh. No. It didn’t happen. They split up not long after that. No she’s happily single. Her and her cats. She’s worried she’s going to end up as an old woman living on her own, talking to cats all day long. She’d love someone in her life but she likes things done exactly her way and she’s not very good at compromise.”
“She’s not changed that much then,” he commented dryly.
“And what about you, Eddie? Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Up to a point. I’ve come to terms with a lot over the last few years and I’ve not got a bad life here.”
“Why have you never left Cyprus?”
“I did leave it. Several times in fact, it’s, well, I could never stay away for very long.”
“Why? Do you love it that much?”
Eddie looked to the sea and moistened his lips, thinking carefully.
“Which answer do you want?” he asked. “The one I give the tourists or the truth?”
“Hit me with the truth, I think I can take it.”
“Well....” Eddie took a deep breath and looked into his hands. “I don’t want to leave Edward. I know it might sound stupid to you, but I’m the only one who even acknowledges that he ever existed. I still visit his grave and put flowers on it. If I wasn’t here then who’d do that? I know he’s not really here anymore but it’s the only link I’ve got to my son and I don’t know how I’d go about remembering him if I left. I’ve got no photos. No one to talk to about him. Stupid really.”
“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” I answered quietly.
“I held him, after they’d delivered him. They wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to me. He was warm. He was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. I kept willing him to open his eyes. I’d never prayed so hard in my life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I can at least hold onto the fact that I got to see him and to hold him. Your mum never did. She never got to say goodbye. Not really.”
I looked down at our hands clasped together. Did I take hold of his hand or did he take hold of mine? I didn’t even remember it happening. It was an odd experience, being with a stranger who you had known all your life. He wasn’t really what I had expected, but then my expectations had been pretty low.
He suddenly shook himself like he had come to his senses. “You hungry?”
“Ravenous.”
“Come on then, let’s eat. I hear on the grapevine that you write about food,” he stated. “You are about to have the world’s greatest mezze.”
“I hear that a lot.”
“Yeah, but not from me. When I say it, I mean it.”
I laughed as he helped me to my feet and we walked up the beach to where his car was parked.
“Get in,” he motioned to the car.
“We’re not eating here?”
“No chance. This is watered down for the British appetite. No, tonight you dine with the Cypriots. I just wanted to show you the tree that your mum spent her time sitting under. I thought you’d like to see it.”
“Thank you.” I slid into the passenger seat of the battered blue Ford.
“What? You’re not impressed by the wheels?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but the way your nose wrinkles up like you’ve just stood in dog dirt betrays you.”
I laughed at that. He wasn’t the first person to tell me that my face was easy to read.
“Don’t get me wrong, you’re a lovely woman but, Jeez, you say it all with one look. There’s the ‘I’m disgusted look’, there’s the ‘you’re an idiot’ look and there! There’s another one, that’s the ‘you’re pushing your luck, Eddie’ look!”
I feigned mock indignation but Eddie laughed at me. “The upside is, you do light up the room when you smile. Just like Pru.”
“Thank you. And now you’ve succeeded in embarrassing me, do you want to tell me where you are taking me?”
“A little village up Troodos mountain. It’s all plastic tables and chairs, cheap cutlery and ‘rustic’ decor. It’s not really one of your upmarket gaffs but the food is pretty much top-notch. I think you’ll like it.”
When Eddie said it wasn’t upmarket he wasn’t joking, but it was full of old-world charm. There was no flashy sign or welcoming party. If I hadn’t been with Eddie, I wouldn’t have even noticed that it was there. We double-parked behind another car which gave me a slight attack of anxiety but I followed Eddie into the restaurant nonetheless.
He greeted the proprietor in Greek like they were old friends and led me to a table out back. There were eight square tables with matching white tablecloths. At the centre of each table was the lit stub of a candle, even though there was still a fair amount of light left in the day. Next to it was a jug of water. There was no roof out here on the terrace but there were beams entwined with vines above our heads dripping with green opals of fruit. We sat on neighbouring sides of the table so that we could both take in the view down the mountainside. The lush green valley stretched out before us like a languorous cat in front of the fire.
Beneath us the insects that come alive at dusk were beginning to move and call to each other. I was so lost in the view that I almost forgot that I was sitting there with Eddie and so when he spoke to me I jumped.
“I ordered us a selection of dishes. I hope that’s ok.”
“Great, thanks.”
“So what’s the plan now?” he asked.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not just here for the food and the sun. You’ve got the names of your biological parents but I get the feeling that you still aren’t satisfied. So, what next?”
“Tomorrow I’m going into Famagusta to see what’s left of Varosha. I want to see your old flat and where Helene died.”
“Well, it’s been nice knowing you,” he smirked. “You do know that’s likely to get you shot, don’t you?”
“So I’ve been told. But I’m not that easily deterred.”
I was spared the task of having to elaborate by the arrival of tsatsiki, hummus and taramasalata with finger-scalding pitta breads. Before these bowls were finished, souvlaki, stiffado, kleftico and afelia were placed before us. I didn’t know where to start so I grabbed the dish closest to me.
“Ummm. Stiffado.” I inhaled deeply. There were the usual scents of beef, tomatoes, red wine and wine vinegar but something else was tripping over the hunks of meat. I took a mouthful and savoured the taste: cinnamon and fresh parsley. Nice additions. The meat was so tender it threatened to dissolve on my tongue before I could even chew it. It was exactly what I needed with my still-sore and swollen jaw.
I followed that with the afelia it seemed an obvious choice given
the inclusion of red wine in this dish also. The coriander seeds crunched and popped in my mouth almost sensually and so I moved onto the kleftico with something approximating the food equivalent of lust.
“This is delicious,” I said with a mouth half full of lamb.
“Isn’t it?”
“Do you come up here a lot?”
“Yeah. It’s where I bring all my hot dates.”
I raised my eyebrows at him and he laughed.
“Don’t flatter yerself! Apart from the fact that I’m old enough to be your father, I nearlywasyour father. No, actually I don’t get that many dates. I can’t compete with the Greek men on charm or looks. It’s a good job I enjoy my own company.”
“Well, it’s great here. I love it. Can we get some wine?”
“Knock yourself out. Not for me though.”
“Of course, you’re driving.”
“Yes, but it’s not only that. I don’t drink. I’m teetotal.”
“But you run a bar,” I said, stating the obvious.
“I am well aware of the irony.”
The waiter came over when I motioned for him.
“Could I get a glass of red wine, please?”
He just looked at me and Eddie laughed.
They spoke to each other in Greek and then Eddie said to me, “He doesn’t speak English. Or at least, he pretends not to.”
“Sorry. I thought everyone on the island did.”
“Most do, but I don’t think that Statos wants to attract Brits to the restaurant so he stubbornly refuses to speak the language of the tourist.”
The proprietor brought the wine to me and I made a point of thanking him in Greek.
Dishes of calamari came and went, dolmades were dispatched without effort and I even requested another serving of the divine stiffado. As we came haltingly to the end of our meal the sun slipped away, transferring our attention back to each other.
“Why are you so intent on getting to the old flat? It’s just bricks. There is nothing there of any consequence. People and memories are all that matters.”
“That’s it though.” I leant forward onto the table. “I don’t have any memories of Cyprus, do I?”
“So you’ll get memories of a rundown building covered in dust. What good’s that, really? We all have to let go of the past, Leni.”
“Says the man who won’t leave his son’s grave.”
Eddie looked sharply at me, his eyes showing their hurt like beacons in the dark.
“Shit! Sorry Eddie, sorry! Oh God, I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry. Truly I am. I’m not good at taking advice. It makes me prickly. Sorry. I can’t believe I just said that. I can be such a cow.”
“Yes you can. But at least you know it,” he smiled at me. I couldn’t believe how nice this man was being to me. I had insulted him, churned up painful memories for him and turned his life upside-down and yet here he was sharing his favourite taverna with me.
“For what it’s worth Eddie. I wish Mum had stayed with you. I don’t think she ever got over you.”
“You never get over your first love,” he said wistfully.
We didn’t talk about anything particularly deep for the rest of the evening, we just drank and chatted. It was nice. Comfortable.
When Eddie dropped me back home later that night he handed me a folded note.
“What’s this?”
“You might need it at some point. It’s as much as I can do to help you, I’m afraid.”
I went to unfold it but his hand was upon mine. “Wait until later.”
“Sure.”
“Come and see me again before you leave Cyprus?”
“Of course! Of course I will. Thanks for this evening. It has been lovely. I’ve really enjoyed myself.” I leant in and gave him a peck on his cheek.
“Goodnight.”
“‘Night”
The main house was in darkness except for a small, low light coming from the kitchen. I stole slowly past the kitchen door as soundlessly as possible.
Clouds had covered the stars for the first time since my arrival in Cyprus and it gave the night a claustrophobic feel as if a heavy blanket was being draped over my head. There was no breeze and barely any light as I stumbled my way down the uneven and precarious path, desperate to lay my head on the soft feather pillows of my borrowed bed.
As I neared the cottage on heavy feet I was aware of a golden glow of light. I thought it was unlikely that I would have left the light on. My overfilled head couldn’t make any sense of it and I was too tired to be either intrigued or concerned. There before me on the table were lit tea-lights encircling a simple white vase with white and purple flowers in it. They were beautiful, bold blooms. Propped up against the vase was a modest card. In simple writing it said: I am sorry. It wasn’t Dom’s writing but I wondered if perhaps he had somehow got hold of Antheia to do it for him. I allowed myself to be carried along by this impossibility and I turned quickly, with barely concealed excitement, towards the footsteps that I could now hear crunching my way.
“You like the flowers?” The voice was heavily accented with Greek and my heart deflated. I peered into the darkness as Stefanos came into view.
“Thank you. They’re very pretty.”
“Pretty flowers for a pretty woman.”
Despite myself, I blushed and turned away looking at the flowers. “What are they called?”
“Anemones. In Greek the name means ‘Daughter of the winds’. They made me think of you. Bold, fearless flowers. They are important for my family and we buy them for special occasions. My mother’s niece was called Anemone, of course.”
“Yes, of course. Daughter of the winds? That’s nice.” I stroked the blooms with ill-disguised fatigue. “I don’t mean to be rude but it’s been a long night, Stefanos. What do you want?”
He stepped closer and frowned. It appeared that even in the velvet of the night my bruises could be seen clearly enough.
“What happened to your face?” he asked reaching out a hand.
I instinctively ducked backwards out of his reach. “Oh, I got into a fight last night in a bar. It looks worse than it is.”
“Really?” He seemed to consider this for a moment with his hand hovering above my cheek. “Police?”
“No. And I don’t want to involve them. It’s nothing really.”
“Why did she hit you?”
“He. It was aman that hit me.”
“No! Who was it?”
“I don’t know his name. And to be fair to him, Idid hit him first... With a bottle.”
Stefanos let out a soft whistle from between his teeth as his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline in surprise and, from the twitch in his cheek, he appeared to be choking on a smile.
“This seems an odd thing for you to do?” he questioned, seeking reassurance and with it, more details.
“He grabbed my... He grabbed me and I hit him instinctively. I happened to have a bottle in my hand at the time. Look, I’m embarrassed, to be honest. I goaded him into behaving badly, so I am as responsible as he is.”
“No, no, no.” Stefanos shook his head and held up his hands to stop me in my tracks. “There is never an excuse for a man to hit a woman.”
“Stefanos, please, I’ll discuss the morals with you another day but right now I would like to go to bed. Do you mind?”
“Of course.” He stepped in closer to me so our bodies were almost touching, “But I don’t have to leave,” he said, suddenly very serious and looking at me with his head slightly bowed so that he had to look at me through his long, dark eyelashes.
“Yes. Yes, you do have to leave.” I was self-conscious as I said it, but even more ashamed by the fact that I was a little sorry that was the case.
He stroked my swollen cheek with a gentleness that didn’t look possible with his big hands but this time I didn’t flinch away.
“If you need anything, Antheia can get hold of me. Okay? And I’ll come back.”
“Okay. That’s v
ery kind of you. Now go.” I placed my hands on his chest and gently pushed him away. He was warm and steady under my palms and I let my hands linger for longer than was necessary. The temptation to give into him, to be held and comforted, was like a glowing coal only needing a little more oxygen to flame brightly.
Stefanos put his hand under my chin and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me so I took a step backwards, scared that I might do something I was certain to regret.
“Goodnight, Stefanos.” I tried to keep my voice steady.
“Kalinichta.” He took my hand and kissed the back of it, inhaling my scent.
I pulled my hand out of his, turned and walked into my room closing and locking the door behind me. I pushed my back to the door and listened to my heart booming in the darkness. I thought about placing the chair under the door handle for added security but knew that I wasn’t so desirable that someone would break down a door to get to me.
I made my way over to the bed in complete darkness and slumped on it after I found it with my shins. What on earth just happened there? Had a guy fifteen years younger than me really looked at me with brown eyes brimming with desire? I must have concussion. After I was sure that Stefanos had left, I turned on the little lamp by the side of the bed and retrieved the note Eddie had given me from my bag. What I saw made me smile and I clasped it to chest smiling.
“Eddie,” I muttered to myself, “you are a star!”
Chapter sixteen
Cyprus, 1974
There was no one to see Pru as she slumped with her forehead against the warm rough wall of her apartment building. No one was there to puzzle about her oversized housecoat or the visible blue hospital gown that hung limply below the hem of Betty’s coat. Not one person could see that she was barefoot and dishevelled.
“Not long now,” she thought, and pushed herself upright.
The pain in her stomach was making her sweat now, but at least it was helping to focus her mind. The painkillers were beginning to wear off, and Pru hoped that some clarity would return to her mind now that she was no longer under the influence of their prescription drugs, designed to keep her quiet and compliant. Even though she was dripping with perspiration, she shivered against the cold. Goosebumps sprung from her skin, catapulting her fair hair to attention along her arms. The backs of her hands ached where needles and tubes had been forced into her veins. She could still smell the disinfected air of the hospital clinging to her hair and it made her want to vomit.