by Maeve Binchy
They hardly dared to say his name, so fearful did they feel about him.
• • •
It was fantastic in the harbor as the old ladies in black clothes carried their cages of hens and baskets of shopping off the ferry. There were families meeting and greeting each other. There was music coming from a café.
“Do you know, it's straight out of…” Maud began.
“Central casting!” Simon finished happily for her.
And together with their backpacks they walked up the Twenty-sixth of March Street and found Vonni's house. They knocked at the door, wondering what kind of person would appear.
She was very small and wiry, with long hair twisted in a braid behind her head; she had heavy lines on her face but a bright smile.
“You look as if you need a good breakfast. What would you like?” she asked.
“Avga, if that's all right…” Simon said.
“Or indeed anything at all,” said Maud politely.
“Avga indeed. You've been learning your Greek.”
“So far I just learned ten words, food things, things we might be able to afford,” Simon admitted.
“Ah, if only you had been here when my magnificent hens were laying, you would have had beautiful avga,” Vonni said. “But we'll do the best we can with shop eggs instead.”
“Can we help you at all?” Maud wanted to establish how helpful they would be.
“Not at all. Haven't you been up all night on that boat. Go out and put your things in what I must stop calling the henhouse.”
“It might be a henhouse again when we've gone,” Maud said reassuringly.
“No, I don't think so. My friends tell me that I should use your room to let next year. I'm getting slower and there are other craft shops. Bigger and better than mine.”
“We'll help you as much as we can …” offered Maud.
“And restore you to your rightful position,” Simon said.
Fiona had been right. They were like some marvelous, mad double act.
Muttie called on the Carrolls’ house in St. Jarlaths Crescent. Declan was just leaving for work.
“And will you tell that nice fiancée of yours that she did a great job settling our Maud and Simon in. They rang to say they got there safely and this Vonni is great altogether.”
“I'm so glad to hear that.” Declan was pleased to be able to report such good news.
“They said the place was like paradise—maybe you and Fiona will go there on your honeymoon?” Muttie suggested.
“She hasn't agreed to set the date yet. She keeps saying there's plenty of time.”
“She's a very sensible girl,” Molly Carroll said approvingly. “You were blessed the day you laid eyes on her, I tell you.” She spoke with a sense of satisfaction, as if she had personally gone out into the highways and byways and found Fiona herself.
“And what took Fiona out there in the first place?” Muttie was interested.
“It was a few years back—she went with a group of friends,” Declan said. He knew from Fiona that there had been a boyfriend and that it had all ended badly, but she seemed edgy and ill at ease when they talked about it, so he had let the subject fade into the background. He felt that wherever they went on honeymoon it would not be Aghia Anna, scene of many good friendships and solidarity but also a scene of too much drama and pain.
Fiona was very pleased that the whole Greek adventure was going so well. It brought her mind back to the island and all the friends she had made there. She sent two postcards. One to David in England, David the gentle Jewish boy who had been so wonderful that summer and whose father had died so he had eventually persuaded his mother to sell the business that he had never wanted to run.
Dear David,
I have two seventeen-year-old friends who are “working” with Vonni and having the time of their lives. They say the henhouse has been refurbished and there are five cafés by the harbor now. All our other fiends are there. Wasn't it magical?
I have fallen in love, properly this time and it's the real thing. He's asked me to marry him and I've said yes. Have you done anything like that?
Love,
Fiona
Dear Tom and Elsa,
I can't stop thinking about Aghia Anna because I have two teenage fiends out helping Vonni for a couple of weeks and I remember those great days and nights we had out there. I am sure California is just as wonderful.
I have met a marvelous man, a doctor in the heart clinic where I work, and we're going to get married. I suppose it's like knowing the real thing when you've only known phonies before. Anyway, when we set a date for the Big Day you'll be invited…
Love,
Fiona
“I don't know what I did before those twins came here,” Vonni said to Andreas and Yorghis. “They are so quaint and old-fashioned and yet they're willing to do anything at all. I took them up to Kalatriada and we saw all these boxes of things going from a place that was closing down. Much too many to carry on the bus, so Simon took the bus back here, found Maria and brought her car up, and we had the whole lot home by nightfall. Much too bright a lad to be a lawyer.”
“Don't let Takis hear you say that.” Andreas laughed.
As it happened, Takis was passing by, taking his little evening stroll around the village.
“Don't let me hear what?” he asked.
“She was speaking ill of your profession.” Andreas and his brother, Yorghis, laughed.
“Ah, Vonni, you're just the person I was hoping to meet. Remember those papers I was talking to you about. Will I bring them round to your house tonight?”
“No, Takis. I have two Irish children there. Can I come up to you instead?”
“Certainly,” he said and continued his walk.
Andreas and Yorghis exchanged glances. This had something to do with Vonni taking a trip away. But she wasn't going to tell them and they weren't going to ask.
“So what happens now?” Vonni asked Takis that night.
“I have let them know that the money is available for bail.”
“You didn't say who it was?” She looked anxious.
“No, but this is the point: they can't just accept a lump of cash from somebody without knowing where it came from. It could be laundered money or drug money. So we have to say who you are.”
“What a fuss about nothing. It's his money—I made it over to him,” Vonni said.
“They have to do things by the book. And Stavros didn't know that he had that money, you see, so they are bound to be suspicious when it appears out of the blue.”
“Yes. I suppose. So what do I do?”
“There are a few formalities.”
“Do I get to see him?”
“Um …no …not while he's still on remand, but of course when you bail him out you can see him then. I mean, he'll want to thank you.” Takis spoke doubtfully.
“I don't need to be thanked,” Vonni said. “It's what any mother would do.”
• • •
Vonni told the twins that she had business in England.
Simon went down to a computer in the Anna Beach and booked her a cheap ticket from Athens. “Will you want to go to Ireland since you are over that way?” he asked.
“No, thank you, Simon. Just England will do,” Vonni said.
“Better wait until we are in Ireland to make you welcome,” Maud said reprovingly. “And you'll come for Fiona and Declan's wedding, won't you?”
“Yes, but Vonni might have friends and relations of her own there.”
“Not to speak of.” Vonni was crisp.
“Will I help you pack?” Maud suggested. “I could do some ironing or whatever you liked.”
“No, I'll just take a couple of things. Hand luggage. What you could do, which would be a great help, is to go and buy my ticket on the ferry for me, and go up to the hospital and say I'll be away for a bit but that you will give them a hand.”
“And will we say how long you'll be away?” Simon wanted
to be prepared.
“Just a couple of days. I'm not exactly sure …” Vonni began.
“So we'll just say …” Simon said.
“That you'll stay for as long as it takes …” Maud finished and Vonni smiled at them gratefully. It was much easier to go away now that the twins were there looking after her business and her home.
They went down to the ferry to wave Vonni off. Andreas was there too, in his big leather boots. He had brought a little parcel of cheese and olives in case Vonni forgot to have lunch.
“Go well, Vonni, be home soon,” he had said.
Maud and Simon watched with interest.
“Do you and Vonni have a special friendship?” Maud asked.
“Yes, that's what it is, a very special friendship.”
“Did you ever think of getting married to her?” Simon wondered.
“Yes, I did, but it was the wrong time. I should have thought about it and asked her earlier. It was too late when I had the thought.” The old man's face was far away for a moment, but then he cheered up.
“I have a good idea—my brother, Yorghis, is coming to dinner tonight, when he closes the police station. Maybe you could come too and meet him?”
“Yorghis?”
“The head of police?”
“Your brother?” The twins sounded like international criminals on the run.
Andreas looked from one to the other. “Yes, like me he is on his own. We often eat a meal together and look down on the lights of the town.”
“Oh, please, Andreas, we haven't done anything wrong!”
“The time we knocked the orange stall over, we spent hours gathering up all the oranges and dusting them for him. He was very happy and …”
“… and when we went swimming in the harbor we didn't know it wasn't the right place because of the boats and we said sorry over and over and the harbormaster said To Pota, which means it doesn't matter …” Simon was anxious to explain.
“So please don't call Yorghis,” Maud begged.
“We don't want him to hear about us,” Simon added.
“And Fiona would kill us; she said she would beat us with a stick until we bled all over the place!” Maud's eyes were enormous.
“Fiona said this? Fiona?” He seemed taken aback.
“Yes, do you know her?”
“I do—she was here one summer—but she didn't seem the kind of person who would beat someone to death. Rather the reverse …”
“Really?” Maud was very surprised. “She always seemed fairly frightening to me.”
“And Declan, who is the son of Muttie's friend, seems fairly anxious to please her.”
Andreas had long lost control of the cast of thousands who figured in the twins’ conversation. “So—Yorghis will be here about eight,” he said, going back to something he did understand.
“If you don't mind …”
“We'd really prefer …”
“We'll be more careful in future …”
“About orange stalls and harbors.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Andreas said eventually. “Just be at the taverna at eight o'clock.”
Dear Fiona,
This is just to explain that we met your friend Yorghis, the chief of police, socially last night. We want to stress it was a social meeting. He turns out to be the brother of Andreas, who owns the taverna. We had dinner there last night and Yorghis was very pleasant and not at all interested in the orange stall incident. The harbormaster had said nothing about our swimming in the wrong place, so I'd say that there are no problems there.
We are having a wonderful time here and cannot thank you enough for telling us about this lovely place. It's hard to believe that the henhouse was ever a henhouse: it has a window in the roof and paintings and plates on the wall. They must have been very comfortable hens.
People say that you were very quiet when you were here. But then maybe we all change. They are all pleased to hear about your engagement.
You have nothing to worry about. Our meeting with Yorghis was just social and he sang songs for us after dinner, which he wouldn't have if anything was wrong.
Vonni has gone to England on business, so we are looking after the shop. Maria, who lost her husband in a boating accident, comes in to work every day to speak real Greek to people, but mainly we are in charge.
Thank you again.
Love,
Simon and Maud
Fiona had completely forgotten having threatened the twins with serious beatings and the wrath of the police chief out in Aghia Anna, so she was mystified as she read their letter. And, like almost everyone who came in contact with Simon and Maud, she felt the world tilting slightly. Only one thing puzzled her. Vonni gone to England on business? Vonni didn't have any business in England. What business would take Vonni to England?
They were very welcoming in the bed-and-breakfast where Vonni stayed. She told them she had never been in England before.
“Imagine! When you think how near it is to Ireland! But early in life I married a Greek and went off to the Mediterranean. And England didn't figure very much.”
The couple who ran the place were interested. “What an adventurous life!” they said in awe.
“It can be too adventurous,” Vonni said sadly.
“Well, we can point you in the direction of some nice scenic attractions,” the wife said, sensing a sadness here.
“No—the only scenic attraction I need to be pointed at is the prison,” Vonni said.
And so they told her there was a bus that went right past their door and they asked her no more. They just refilled her mug of tea.
Restful people. She had been lucky to find this place.
The next morning, Vonni stood at the bus stop and watched ordinary people doing ordinary things. Girls were going to work in shops, women were taking children to school, men with worried faces were looking at their watches.
These were people with families—men, women and children who lived normal lives. They weren't going with a briefcase full of certified checks to see a son now estranged for decades with the intention of bailing him out of prison. Their hearts were not heavy with anxiety as hers was. They knew what the day was going to bring, while she had no idea what was going to happen.
The heart clinic was going from strength to strength. Frank Ennis called by to tell them that there had been a wonderful article in a U.S. newspaper about the place. Apparently they had treated the wife of an American journalist who was spending three months in Dublin and had gone into heart failure and been cared for exceptionally well. Frank Ennis kept stabbing at the paper and saying that you couldn't buy this publicity for any money.
Clara had been pleased but unimpressed. This was what they tried to do for everybody. It was of no more value because it had been done for a columnist's wife.
“At least he said the place was clean, airy and well equipped, Frank!” Clara said. “If you'd had it your way, it would have been a poky dungeon …”
Hilary was watching Frank's face: it seem to fall a little. Hilary was beginning to think that Frank's interest in Clara was more than professional. She had told this to Clara, who pealed with laughter at the very idea.
“Frank!” she cried in horror. “I would rather be a nun for the rest of my life.”
Hilary stuck to her belief. “He rings up to know are you going to be there, and he doesn't bother coming if you're not.”
“You'll need more skills than that if you are going to set up as a private detective or a psychologist!” Clara laughed.
Kitty Reilly was passing by with Fiona, full of religious fervor. “I think there's too much laughing in this clinic,” she said disapprovingly.
“We never laugh about our work, Kitty,” Clara apologized.
“But in your free time, you could have said ten prayers while you and Hilary were laughing there—and think what good that would have done.”
“I know, Kitty, you're probably right, but after prayers a
good laugh is all right, don't you think?” Fiona had her hand to her mouth to control herself.
Later she regaled Barbara with the story in the treatment rooms.
“This place is better than working in a circus sometimes,” Barbara agreed. “What are you frowning about now?”
“I can't think what Vonni is doing in England. She doesn't know anyone in England except David. I wish I knew what she's doing there.”
Stavros shared a cell with Jacky McDonald from Scotland. Jacky was there over a misunderstanding as well. They had little in common apart from the unfairness of their imprisonment and the lack of anyone to post bail for them. So it came as a shock to them both when Stavros heard that there was a serious possibility that the funds were coming for his release.
“Who could it be? Your da?” Jacky asked enviously.
“It must be—but where he got the money I don't know. Maybe my grandfather died. He owned some barbershops. There could have been money there, I suppose.”
“You don't know if he's dead or not?” Jacky was incredulous.
“No—how would I?”
“What about your mother?”
“God, no, she's a hopeless drunk, probably dead from drink now. Anyway, if she did get her senses back she wouldn't help me.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I got this awful drooling letter from her, way back, apologizing and saying she loved me. Jesus!”
“And what did you say?”
“What anyone would say. I said, You live your life and, please, let me live mine.’ No, it couldn't be her.”
• • •
Through all the formalities, they were very polite to Vonni. She even saw signs of sympathy in fairly impassive faces. They were making it easier for her and she was grateful.
“And will I get to see him?” she asked.
“We had instructions not to tell him who it was from. The lawyer in Greece was very adamant about that,” a fatherly man told her gently. He was the kind of man who would never have understood the years of history between Vonni and her son.