Those You Trust: compelling women's psychological fiction

by Bernie Steadman

  I walked her the rest of the way back, collecting my tin of paint at the back door. I didn’t go in. I had a feeling that the taverna would not be a happy place to visit for some time. And I wondered, for the first time, if I might be in some sort of danger here on the island.

  Once home, I poured myself a glass of wine and lit the fire in the living room. The air was cold, but the fire soon warmed the space and began to seep upstairs. I flopped onto the sofa and covered myself in a blanket. So much had happened in the last few days, and I still wasn’t sure what it all had to do with me. I wanted to talk to someone, and was surprised when that person was Leo, not my mum. It was as if she were too far away now to be of any help, and she was complicit in my father’s desire to keep his past a secret. That was an odd feeling to process.

  I tried Leo again, but it went to voicemail. His unavailability made me uneasy. I know I wanted to keep it light, blah-blah-blah. I thought we had a good understanding and yet he hadn’t even left me a message. What kind of business was he up to? I knew he had to go to the bank to ensure his money had come through from the States, and then he was going to the town hall to discuss permits, but that wouldn’t take all day, would it?

  I scrolled through my phone for a while and had a look round my pinned boards on Pinterest. The Andreanakises might like a house similar in design to what I had done here, I thought, and began a new pinboard for them.

  I took the old photos out of their folder and scrutinised them some more. I thought one might be of a young Nyssa, with several children running around at the beach. It was taken in the fifties, I thought, looking at the clothes. The staring wasn’t getting me any closer to learning about my family, though, so I put them away again.

  Finally, having put it off all day, I rang and spoke to Mum. She had a few questions to answer. ‘Mum, why haven’t you told me anything about my other set of grandparents? I’m living in Nyssa’s house and I know nothing about her.’

  ‘Darling, it’s your father’s story to tell, not mine.’

  What the hell did that mean? ‘Well, Mother, he isn’t telling me anything at the moment, is he? And he hasn’t for the whole of my life. And, frankly, someone needs to before I really lose my temper.’

  ‘Anna, things are… complicated. Don’t be angry.’

  ‘But I am angry, Mum. I feel like an idiot when everyone knows things I need to know and they won’t tell me.’

  ‘Your father, he has many regrets. He is…’

  ‘What? What is he? Silent as the grave? Miserable? Just what is he, Mum?’

  ‘He’s not very well. Don’t worry, the doctor has him on medication for his, you know, waterworks.’

  ‘Is he going to be okay?’ My voice trembled over the phone. Oh God. I might be mad at him, but he was my dad.

  ‘Of course, nothing for you to worry about.’ She hesitated. ‘I will ask him to speak to you when you come home. It’s time you knew the truth.’

  At last. ‘Yes, it is time. I’m sorry I shouted at you. Are you okay?’

  ‘Yes, we’re fine. So, tell me about you. Are you ready to come home yet?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll come for a visit soon. I want to see Dad. And you, of course.’

  ‘A visit? Tut.’

  It continued in that vein: had I changed my mind? Was I ready, having had my little adventure, to go back to that lovely husband of mine and have babies? Ah, the baby question. Babies she so desperately wanted, and I never did. Not with Will, anyway. She went on a bit longer. So long that in order to prevent implosion, I poured another glass of wine, dug out olives and crisps and wondered what to make for supper. I’d bought a large chicken for me and Leo to share. Seemed a bit extravagant for one.

  I was relieved when there was a knock on the door. I said a hasty goodbye to my mother and pulled it open, expecting it to be Leo, but it wasn’t. Instead, there stood Alex and Cathy from my Greek class. Alex had a bottle of wine in his hand.

  ‘Good evening, Anna,’ he said. ‘I just met Cathy at the taverna, and we wondered if you could use some company this evening?’

  ‘Please do say if you have plans,’ said Cathy. ‘We don’t want to intrude, but I’d love to see what you have done with the house, and then we could go out to eat, perhaps?’

  In truth, I was delighted to see them, even though they were the last people I was expecting. It had been quite a day. Although we had been meeting as a gang for weeks, and had had drinks together, I really hadn’t sorted out my social life, and frankly, I needed friends I could talk to, not sleep with. I held the door wide. ‘Come in! It’s great to see you.’

  I gave them the grand tour, and they were appropriately appreciative, and we opened the bottle. ‘Stay for dinner,’ I said, ‘I could do with some company and I’d like to cook for you.’

  It was the first time I’d cooked for anybody in Crete, but with these two, I felt no pressure. They sat at the kitchen table and ate nibbles and chatted to me while I cooked. It was as I had imagined life would be with Will, but we had ended up in a cold, marble-and-black kitchen that was rarely used, and certainly not by friends.

  I chopped vegetables and added a whole bulb of garlic sliced across the middle into a roasting pan, then oiled, seasoned and herbed the chicken and put lemon inside the carcase. Into the oven it all went, and I sat with them around the kitchen table. Another glass of wine was poured, and I was glad I’d struggled home with the extra bottles. It was the first time I’d felt relaxed all day, and I wondered if they would listen and help me to make sense of what was happening.

  ‘Anna, tell us what happened when you went to Paleochora with Cassia,’ said Alex. ‘I was quite worried about you, especially Cassia and her brother.’

  Cathy’s green eyes lit up. ‘Yes, do tell. I must say it has been a lot more exciting here in the last couple of weeks than it has been for the last two years!’

  While the food cooked, and the aroma of baked chicken, garlic and herbs filled the house, I told them about Constantinos, and about Maria and Spiros, and about Delphine Kokorakis. It honestly didn’t make a lot more sense at the end of the tale than it had at the beginning, and they were just as horrified as I was about Spiros and poor Maria.

  I sliced green beans and steamed them on the hob, adding them to leftover tomato sauce. It was almost ready.

  ‘Okay,’ said Alex, as I took plates from the shelf and warmed them in the oven. I sliced bread and warmed that, too. I was starving. ‘So Mrs Kokorakis and you will help the old couple into a new house, Constantinos will go back to Athens, and Maria has lost everything.’

  I ran a hand across my forehead, pushing my hair back. ‘It’s awful, isn’t it? It’s so difficult being a stranger here. I have no idea if there is any way to actually help Maria, but I’d like to try.’

  ‘No, neither have I, but Spiros deserves all he gets,’ added Cathy. ‘I know he likes a drink, but to do that and call it an accident? It could have been murder! Beggars belief.’ She got up and found the cutlery drawer, placing three settings in between our glasses. ‘But I’m sure our collective brains can sort something out. What do you say, Alex?’

  Alex turned his almost translucent pale-blue eyes to me. He looked serious, as usual. ‘I also would like to help Maria, but I have a feeling Mr K is not a reasonable man. It might be better not to get involved. It could be dangerous.’

  That brought the mood down. I didn’t reply. How could I abandon Maria now? Instead, I cut up the chicken and loaded up the plates, hoping they were as hungry as I was. Conversation quietened as we tucked in, although there was furious thought happening all around the table. I have to say, it was a pretty decent plate of food.

  ‘Maria needs a job,’ said Cathy, pointing her fork at me. ‘She knows food. There will be a taverna out there that needs her skills, I’m sure.’

  ‘I can ask around,’ said Alex. ‘There is no hurry, of course. She will be busy until the autumn.’

  ‘That’s true, but at least we can look out for her. And we shouldn�
�t assume she’s helpless. Not Maria.’ We laughed at that. She was a feisty character, was Maria, and not easy to crush.

  ‘Delicious meal, thank you,’ said Cathy around a mouthful of chicken. ‘I had no idea you were such a good cook.’

  ‘Truly wonderful,’ added Alex and he gave me a dazzling smile. ‘I could manage a little more, if there is any,’ he said.

  ‘Man after my own heart, Alex,’ I said, heaping our plates again. Cathy looked horrified. No wonder she was a tiny thing.

  ‘Learning to cook was an occupational hazard of growing up in a restaurant,’ I said. ‘I think my mum expected me to take over when they retire, but I wanted to get away. Art and design were my strengths at school. But here I am anyway, in Crete, cooking Greek food.’

  ‘And looking very comfortable while you do it,’ said Alex. ‘You may be ready to change more than just your home?’ His blue eyes twinkled. I hadn’t noticed before how gentle he was because he was always so quiet and reserved. ‘Change of career, perhaps?’

  It hadn’t occurred to me until then that I was free to do exactly what I wanted with the rest of my life. It gave me a fluttery feeling in my chest; that the universe might be offering me something entirely new and different from what had gone before. ‘You know, you may be right,’ I said, grinning at him. ‘As I was walking back from the market I saw so many gardens with chickens, sometimes a goat and vegetables already being planted for the summer. I’d love to live a little closer to the land and have some of that for myself.’

  ‘And of course, you can now.’ He touched my shoulder. ‘We must all be open to change. After all, I never expected to be living on my boat at my age. I thought I would be working in computers until I was in my sixties, but fate took a hand, I made good investments, and here I am, enjoying the good life.’

  ‘Living the dream, eh, Alex?’ asked Cathy.

  ‘I have a few investment accounts to keep my brain busy, but yes, you could say I am living the dream.’

  I’d never thought about how old Alex was. I’d assumed he was in his late forties, but he could easily have been younger. He had the permanently brown, weather-beaten face of a person who spent many months out at sea, and his hair was so blond it looked silver. ‘Will you go off sailing when the weather improves?’ I asked him.

  ‘Yes, I go round the islands. People charter the boat and I crew for them.’ He tipped his glass at me. ‘I could do with a cook in the summer months.’

  I laughed. It sounded wonderful, pottering around Greek islands on a boat, cooking lovely food, but the idea was ludicrous. I still had to earn a living for the rest of the year. ‘Love the idea, but I don’t think it’s quite for me, thanks, Alex.’

  He looked disappointed. ‘Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.’

  I did, he lived on board a beautiful sailing boat in the bay.

  ‘Oh, Alex,’ piped up Cathy, and I could detect a definite simpering. ‘Anna and I would love to come and see your boat one day. Perhaps you could take us out for a little sail and show us the ropes, as it were?’

  Nice work, old gal, I thought. I’d love to have a nosy round and see how it all worked. Just in case I should ever change my mind.

  We arranged a possible day out for later in the spring and I refused their offer of help to wash up. While Cathy went to the bathroom I asked Alex to see her safely home; she was definitely the worse for wear.

  ‘You do not need to ask, I will make sure she is safe. And Anna, I will help you if you ever need me, too.’ He gave me his telephone number and email address on a card. ‘Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.’

  He gathered me up in a hug and thanked me for dinner. I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one feeling a bit lonely out here, despite living the dream. Sometimes it’s nicer to share it with someone. Then Cathy came down and she gave me a hug, too, and I felt better than I had in days. Oddly, I hadn’t missed Leo at all. This felt like the start of friendship, with people who didn’t want anything from me except my company. It felt good.

  It was quite late, gone eleven thirty and I was getting ready for bed, when a text came through from Leo. Sorry not been in touch. Something has come up. Staying over in Chania. Xx. To the point, I supposed, and it was a message. Fine, I sent, see you soon. I hoped it felt as dismissive as I intended it to be.

  12

  A couple of days later, there were two letters lying on the mat behind the door when I came downstairs. One was a formal invitation to dinner with the Kokorakises and a ‘few close friends’ who would like to meet me, apparently. They had chosen the following Saturday night, over the Easter weekend which was awkward as I still intended to go home for a visit, but I guessed the parents could wait a few more days.

  I had mixed feelings about the invitation. On the one hand, entry into the wealthier parts of society could bring me work and recognition for that work. On the other, Kokorakis burnt down people’s houses. Well, not him personally, but still. Why would I want to ally myself with such a man? On the other hand, Delphine was trying to help sort out the situation, and I wanted to help her. I took Maria’s warning about Kokorakis seriously, but I didn’t feel able to refuse.

  The other letter was the bill from the builders, which I paid immediately through internet banking. They wouldn’t know what to do with themselves, receiving their money so quickly. I then spent a couple of hours completing the restaurant project invoice and sent my bill along to the owner. I’d be lucky if I saw payment for that within three months.

  Then I had a much needed proper think about the practicalities of running a business on Crete; paying tax, sorting health insurance, trying for my work visa again, buying a car, all the stuff I’d been avoiding thinking about. I felt better when I stopped for coffee later; I’d made a big decision that needed making. I would call Cassia and ask if she could help me out with the more complex forms, and then I’d complete them, and begin the task of becoming a Greek citizen. Now that the UK was finally out of the EU there was no other option if I wanted to stay permanently, and I liked the idea of dual citizenship – it matched how I felt about myself – a woman balanced between or possibly bestriding two cultures.

  I took my coffee out into the garden, and breathed in the cool air, still dusty from the builders’ rubble. I had to stop waiting for life to happen, and make my own. First, a car. Next, the garden. There would be room for a vegetable patch in one corner, but probably not enough room for chickens. The sun, which was trying its best to break through cloud, was at the back of the house during the heat of the day, which was the worst direction. It would bake in summer. But if I could plant some trees to make natural screening and provide some shade along the back wall, and incorporate lots of mulch and new soil, I might have a chance. And I needed to get started straight away if I wanted veg this summer. But where on the island would I get soil? Did they have garden centres in Crete? I brought the laptop out and balanced it on my knees. And how did we do anything before Google? After ten minutes browsing, I made another decision. I had to get a car, preferably today, to transport it all. I sipped my drink. Exciting times.

  The little grey cat crept through a hole in the wall and rubbed around my legs, looking for food, of course. Mrs P followed the cat, but came via her gate into the little lane, and leant over the back wall to chat.

  ‘Kalimera, Anna,’ she said. ‘You had a nice time last night, yes? With your friends?’

  ‘I did, thank you. I hope we didn’t make too much noise and keep you awake?’

  ‘No, I like to hear you enjoying yourself. It has been a quiet house for so long.’ She straightened her headscarf, tying it more tightly behind her head. ‘I must shop for food today,’ she said, ‘but perhaps we can share tea later when I come home? You have not yet been to my house since you arrived.’

  ‘I would love to! Thank you so much. But, are you fasting for Lent? Will it be okay for you to give me tea?’

  ‘We do not eat animal products, oil or fish leading up to E
aster, but everything else is fine. I can still bake. Shall we say four o’clock? That is the time for you English to have tea, is it not?’ She waved at me and chuckled her way round to the road.

  Excellent, a chance to get to know her a little better at last.

  I rang Cassia and she agreed to meet me in town, next to the car sales dealership. I was happy about managing the Greek for a transaction, but I’d only ever had a car on a three-year renewing lease, and had little idea of what to look out for.

  ‘Cassia, thank you so much for coming,’ I said, and kissed her on both cheeks. Something had changed in our relationship since we had shared the horror of what had happened to her brother. It felt warm, more like friends than teacher and pupil. I wasn’t expecting to see Tinos standing there as well though.

  ‘Hello, Anna,’ he said. ‘I thought I would be more help in choosing a car than she would.’ He laughed, and received a punch to his good arm from his twin.

  ‘That may be true,’ I said, ‘but you’ll both be better than me. It’s good to see you looking better, Tino.’

  He smiled at me, wistfully. ‘I feel that I have lost part of me, but I can, and will start again elsewhere. I am young after all,’ he said, and winked. I hadn’t been winked at so much in years.

  An overweight, balding man in a suit too tight for him stood just inside the sales room door, eyeing us up.

  ‘Okay,’ I said, ‘we should see what Mr Charisma has to say. I can always go to Chania if the deal isn’t good enough.’ We strolled around the dozen or so cars on the lot, and I took a fancy to a smallish white one. Tinos gave his approval when he had checked the mileage and looked under the bonnet. Why do they do that? Men? What can you see under a bonnet that tells you anything useful? I just liked the simplicity of the controls, and that it had working air conditioning and wasn’t yellow. Or orange.