Being Shirley

by Michelle Vernal

  “I loved it and they’re both sound asleep now,” Annie said proudly. She’d spare her friends the finer details of her evening. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I made some sandwiches if you are hungry.”

  “Actually, I’m starving.” Kassia sounded surprised as she locked the door behind her. “I will just check on the boys and then I will come through. You go ahead.” She gave Annie a gentle push in the direction of the kitchen.

  Annie found Mama seated next to Alexandros, waving a sandwich under his nose not unlike she had done a few short hours ago with the spoon under Nikolos’s nose.

  “You need food if you want your body to heal, Alexandrosaki mou,” she bossed. Now that she was over her fright, she was back to being the Mama they all knew and loved. Annie sat down opposite her with a fond smile.

  He would not get any peace from her until he did as he was told, so Alexandros frowned and took a small bite of the sandwich. As he chewed mutinously, Annie caught a flash of what he would have looked like as a small boy. She could see Mateo in him and she wondered whether he would take after his uncle in personality as he grew, too.

  “The same goes for you, Mama-mou.” Spiros passed the plate over to his mama as Kassia joined them at the table.

  “Mateo is snoring again and Nikolos has his thumb in his mouth, sound asleep.” She smiled and sat down, pushing her hair away from her face as she did so.

  “Kas, do you want a glass?’ Annie lifted her wine glass. “Anybody else?”

  Spiros nodded before frowning at his brother. “No, Alexandros. The doctor said alcohol doesn’t mix with the pain medication he has given you. A water will have to do.”

  “Mama?”

  “Tea, Annie, please.” The old woman leaned over to stroke her son’s cheek. “You must listen to what the doctor has told you, Alexandrosaki mou, and be a good boy, yes?”

  Annie smiled as she heard him answer, “Yes, Mama.”

  It didn’t matter how old you got; your parents were always your parents, she thought as she flicked the switch to re-boil the kettle. She let Mama’s tea steep as she fetched Alexandros a glass of water and opened another bottle of wine. “Mama, Georgios sends his best wishes. He wants us all to come to lunch once Alexandros is up to it.”

  Annie didn’t miss the sudden spark of interest in Mama’s eyes as she nodded and told her to tell him that the Bikakis family would love to come to his taverna for lunch. She remembered the idea that had begun to germinate earlier. Once things had settled down, it could be time for a spot of matchmaking—oh yes, Georgios could be just the distraction Mama needed.

  As she poured the wine, she listened to Kassia as she spoke to Alexandros.

  “Thank you for what you did today—from the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

  Annie watched him wave his good hand dismissively.

  “I didn’t do anything that anybody else wouldn’t have done.”

  “Yes, you did. You saved our son’s life, and Spiros and I will never forget that.” Her voice thickened. “I know we haven’t always got on well and that at times I have not been kind. I am truly sorry for that but today has shown me how fragile life is and how easy it is to forget that. I have spent too much time worrying over things that don’t matter so long as we all have each other.” Her gaze met Mama’s across the table and the older woman smiled at her encouragingly as she reached across the table and patted her hand. Kassia blinked rapidly, determined to finish. “I want us to start fresh, Alexandros. A new beginning—do you think we can?” She looked at him hopefully. His cheeks had flushed, unaccustomed to such an outpouring from his acerbic sister-in-law.

  Annie felt her own throat tighten as she waited for Alexandros to take the olive branch that was held out, pleased to see that Mama and Kassia had obviously mended their own bridges too. Spiros concentrated on the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table as though they were objects of intense fascination.

  “Of course,” Alexandros said. “But there is something I need to tell you all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Annie lay on her back in bed with her eyes open, woozy from all the wine she had knocked back on an empty stomach. It wasn’t often she forgot to eat but tonight with sorting the children, she’d foregone dinner herself and by the time the others came back, the wine was going down rather too well to contemplate a sandwich. Well, she was paying for it now. She concentrated on the stars she could see from her window that decorated the black velvet sky. She hadn’t drawn the curtains; fully dressed and all set for sleep, she’d fallen into bed only to find that when she shut her eyes, the room spun. Wishing she could stop the merry go round and get off, she found herself turning the events of the evening over in her mind.

  Instead of the expected histrionics from Mama at Alexandros’s announcement, she had merely looked resigned. She listened stoically as he told them that as soon as his plaster cast was off and the doctor had told him he was good to go, he was heading back to Brazil. He would stay, he’d told them, with an, eh-hem, “friend.” She shook her head sadly as he finished. It was clear Mama was simply too exhausted from the emotions of the day to summon up her usual response to her youngest son’s shenanigans.

  “I am only a phone call away, Mama,” Alexandros added, not liking her quiet response. He was equipped to deal with his crying, hand-wringing Mama. Not this calm version who suddenly looked shrunken and old as she announced she was tired and going to bed. They all watched in silence as she shuffled from the room.

  “You could have waited. When are you going to grow up?” Kassia shot him a look, to which Alexandros scowled.

  Annie watched Spiros roll his eyes. He loved his wife and he loved his brother—he really did—but sometimes he could bang their heads together. So much for their fresh start, she thought, reading his mind.

  To head off the argument before it could start, Spiros got to his feet and told his brother he would see him to his bed. He kissed Kassia on the top of her head before he helped Alexandros to his feet and told her he would turn in too. “It’s been a long day. Goodnight, Annie. Thank you for looking after the children.”

  She waved his thanks away before she got up too. “You don’t need to thank me, Spiros, you know that.” She held the door open for them once more. As Alexandros limped past, leaning heavily on his brother, she added, “I hope you both sleep well.” She doubted Alexandros would. He wouldn’t be very comfortable with that arm of his but then perhaps everything that had happened combined with the pain relief the doctor had given him would knock him out.

  “What a day.” Kassia sighed wearily when the two men had gone and Annie had sat back down. She topped up their glasses.

  “I’ll say.” Annie smiled her thanks before she took a sip. She looked over at her friend, who leaned back in her chair with her eyes shut. “You patched things up with Mama then?”

  She opened her eyes and rubbed at them, leaving red marks underneath them. “You saw our fight?”

  “Yes. I was coming back from the beach and I saw the two of you having an argument and that’s when Mateo ran past after his kite.”

  Kassia shook her head. “It was my fault. If that car had hit him, I couldn’t have lived with myself.”

  “No, it—”

  “Yes, Annie. I should have been watching him. Instead, I was telling my mother-in-law that she needed to let me raise the boys my way.”

  Annie went round the table to comfort her and Kassia leaned her head onto her shoulder. Her weariness was palpable.

  “We talked on the way to the hospital, Mama and I.”

  “I thought you might.”

  “I was honest with her, like I should have been with myself. It was never her problem; it was mine.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I told you how I felt after Spiros lost his job. The choices other people take for granted as their right were gone and the life we had, it changed so fast. I was so angry and I directed some of that onto Mama. I tried to apologise
for what I’d said to her that afternoon but she told me I was right and that Eleni’s was our home now too. All she wants is for us to be happy here and not grateful. She said she would learn to stop interfering and let us find our own way.”

  “She said all that?”

  “Yes, she is a very wise woman. I probably should listen to her more often.” Kassia raised a weak smile as Annie sat back down. They’d drunk their wine in silence after that. Her friend needed the quiet to process the day.

  Now, as she blinked in the darkness of her bedroom, her stomach rolled. Uh-oh, she knew what was coming next. Annie flung the covers back and charged for the bathroom. She made it just in time and with nothing left to heave, flushed the loo before she splashed cold water on her face. Good grief, she looked like a Chucky doll, she thought as she caught sight of herself. She wiped her mouth before she headed back to bed. Not surprisingly, she slept well.

  ***

  The next morning, an air of shell shock still hung in the air and with the strong painkillers the doctor had prescribed beginning to wear off, Alexandros proved to be a crotchety patient. He only brightened when his brunette friend came calling; he managed to don his brave face for the hour she stayed to fuss over him. Annie, too, felt a bit worse for wear but she’d gotten through the day and made it into Georgios’s. To her relief, the taverna had been quiet and Georgios had sent her home early.

  The following morning had dawned brighter. Annie woke clearheaded and ready for whatever the day may bring her way. What she hadn’t expected it to bring was Georgios. He had appeared at the back door and clutched such a large bouquet of flowers she could barely make out who was behind the beautiful red blooms. Mama, who had been sitting with a cup of coffee having finished serving the breakfasts, had turned into a coy teenager at the sight of him. She leaped up from her seat with surprising sprightliness to take the bunch from him before she exclaimed over their beauty and buried her nose in their soft petals to peer shyly up at him. Annie had to bite her lip at the way she fluttered her eyelashes and giggled. She’d made Georgios a drink and left them to talk at the kitchen table, desperate to find Kas to tell her what was going on in the kitchen. She had a sneaking suspicion that the distraction she had said Mama needed had just shown up at their back door without any prompting on her part.

  Two Months Later

  Annie turned thirty-two today. Thirty-two! When did that happen! She shook her head and gazed out to the flat expanse of water. She sat at a table borrowed from Eleni’s dining room and carried by Spiros and Alexandros down to the pebbly beach. A glass of bubbles rested on it. Those undulating arid hills turning golden in the early evening light and the intense aquamarine water were a panorama she had fallen head over heels in love with these last six months and this was her very own Shirley Valentine moment.

  She’d told Kas that all she wanted for her birthday was to sit at a table by the sea on her own with a glass of champers as the sun began to set low in the Cretan sky. This was her version of her favourite scene in the movie, and although she’d felt a bit of a plonker sitting there alone at first, it had given her a chance to ponder everything that had happened over the last year. So what if it wasn’t the Shirley Valentine beach on Mykonos and she hadn’t left her husband—nor was she middle-aged, for that matter—but she’d still been on her own journey and what a journey it had been. She saw a young couple, arms linked, as they strolled the path that traced the shoreline. Annie raised her fluted glass to them. They smiled nervously down at her and walked just a little faster as she called out, “It’s my birthday—cheers!”

  She would meet the others for dinner at Georgios’s later once the sun had officially set. Her lovely extended Greek family. It was to be both a birthday dinner for her and a leaving dinner for Alexandros. Georgios’s and Mama’s “friendship” had definitely softened the blow he had delivered by announcing he was leaving. Although Alexandros did seem a little bit put out that his mama was no longer devastated by his impending departure. He was a big baby, really. She knew he would enjoy being looked after by his English lady friend in Brazil.

  Mama and Georgios’s burgeoning romance was lovely to watch, they all agreed, and the thought of them made Annie smile as she took a sip of her drink. The bubbles tickled the tip of her nose. They had been so shy around each other at first but now that they had their family’s approval, they were being so risqué as to actually hold hands in public. Proof that you were never too old for a new romance—there was hope for her yet!

  She’d been right, too, in a romance being just the distraction Mama needed. She gave herself a mental pat on the back and let the soothing shush of the water swishing over the pebbles wash over her. It was the sound of profound peace, she decided, glad that Kas had found it so at last too.

  The boys were still the apple of their Yaya’s eye, of course, but these days she was too busy with Georgios to be worrying about what they were eating and when they were sleeping. Mama had been true to her word and left her daughter-in-law to it in that department. So much so that Kas had confided the other day she sometimes wished Mama were around a bit more often because she was actually missing the extra help! Be careful what you wish for and all that. Her friend was happier in herself, though, and enjoyed her life here in Elounda at last and felt settled—much to Spiros’s relief.

  The sun sank a little lower; shards of burnt umber shot across the darkening sky. Annie sighed contentedly. It was so beautiful, this pocket of paradise she had found. She took another contemplative sip of her drink. Carl had telephoned to wish her happy birthday that morning; he’d been full of the joys of his re-kindled romance with David. Although, he had gone on to inform her they had agreed there was no rush to get to the altar. That meant she didn’t have to worry about flying home for a big do in the near future; he’d quickly added, not that he didn’t miss her. His big goss was that he’d bumped into Tony with his new girlfriend at the mall and it had been awkward. Annie had been unable to resist asking what she was like and Carl had told her with relish that she was a frowsy brunette whose fashion sense was stuck in the nineties. They were a good match, he’d sniped, and she’d laughed. “I do miss you, you know, Carl.”

  “I miss you, too, sweetheart,” he’d told her before ringing off.

  She had spoken to her parents that morning too. They were setting sail on their second cruise in a week’s time, having thoroughly enjoyed their first taste of sailing the Seven Seas. Their jet setting was helping soften the blow of her being away and Annie was pleased at how happy and animated they’d sounded about their trip. It seemed her mother’s diet was a distant memory these days now that she’d fallen in love with the cruise ship’s daily buffet. “You want to see all the food, Annie.” She’d gushed and made Annie smile. “Who knows—” She’d continued excitedly, perhaps they’d cruise the Greek islands next. “I hope you do, Mum,” Annie had replied realising she meant it before she rung off.

  Her glass was nearly empty, she realised. “Cheers, Roz.” She raised it and drained what was left before she sat back in her chair, filled with wonder at how this time here had seen her move on with her life properly. No longer was there sadness lurking at the peripheral edges. The sun was seconds off dipping behind the hills and it was time she went. She glanced towards the road. A figure watched her from the path. She frowned. The dark outline of a man moved towards her and as he drew closer, Annie gasped. It was Kristofr, the man she had met at the Acropolis!

  “Hello, Annie. I am on my holidays and so I have come to see if you have found your Yanni.” He joined her at the table as the sun set.

  The End

  From the Author

  Michelle Vernal is the author of the three other novels. She lives with her hubby Paul and their two boys in the gorgeous wee South Island town of Oxford in New Zealand. It is a place where the cheese scones are superb and there is always loads more going on than meets the eye.

  If you enjoyed Being Shirley then taking the time to say so would be s
o very much appreciated. Michelle would also like to invite you to subscribe to her monthly newsletter via her website link provided below. To say thank you when you sign up you will receive a free copy of Wounded Birds, her short story introducing you to Jessica from Second Hand Jane. Read on for an excerpt Second Hand Jane:

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  SECOND HAND JANE

  Prologue

  To: Niall Fitzpatrick

  From: Jessica Baré

  Subject: First Draft Amy’s Story

  This story starts with a children’s book published in 1969, a fairy tale bought by a mother in Northern Ireland on behalf of her youngest child to give to his sister for Christmas 1973. It’s no fairy story, though, nor is it just the sad relaying of brutal facts that ended in Lisburn in 1983. It might have finished there, though, if not for her family and had that little book not found its way to me. I don’t mean to sound proprietary because neither the book nor the story I am going to tell you belongs to me. This is Amy’s story and in order to tell it to you, I have to begin where it all began.

  My full name is Jessica Jane Baré or Second-hand Jane as my friends have started to call me. Why? Well, it’s because I love the pre-loved—just like that old cliché, someone else’s junk is my treasure. My real passion, though, is for old children’s books—it’s something about the smell of them, I think. It conjures up the innocence of a bygone era of children called Dick and Ann and tea at five o’clock, trapped forever within their much-thumbed pages. I covet the Ladybird Series 606D books in particular—the classic fairy tales every child grows up with: Rapunzel, Cinderella, The Elves and the Shoemaker, and most pertinent of all, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. It wasn’t the bold black typeface, however, that had me poring over the books as a child and hoarding them as an adult but Eric Winters’ fabulously detailed illustrations. They brought those stories to life and were the source of a childhood fascination with witches, fairies, princes, and princesses. The delicate colours of the foxgloves planted by the thatched cottage’s flag stone path, the grand white Bavarian styled castles in which as a little girl I had no doubt I would one day grow up to live in, were a world away from the suburban pocket of New Zealand I inhabited. When a young imagination is fuelled, though, the impossible becomes possible. Good versed evil within those pages and always won. If only we could hold onto that analogy forever.